Thirteen
Princess Emeline
H e’s cruel.
I don’t understand why.
He is angry with me for something, but what did I do? Is it because I avoided him after last night—the best night of my life?
I thought it was what he wanted, and I was reserved for my forward behavior. But I clearly know nothing at all.
I help the Northman women cook a feast for their tribe as we have cause for celebration. I didn’t think my proposal through, but Skarth did. He knew I would be wanted by both kingdoms, which is why I believe he is outraged.
He is angry I would put my life at risk this way. But doesn’t he understand I would rather die free than live a life shackled with invisible manacles?
I need to speak with him, but he’s not acknowledged me since he crudely dismissed me as nothing but a puerile child. He speaks with the Northmen, talks of battle, no doubt, as I’ve overheard talks of sending for over thirty ships of men to arrive for the battle at Carhampton.
Wessex will be outnumbered, but King Egbert will send for reinforcements. All kingdoms will fight this war, for they wish to please Wessex. This is far bigger than I thought.
Focusing on the large iron pot over the fire, I stir the stew as I need to do something with my hands. I fear the silence otherwise.
I’ve learned the Northmen drink an alcoholic concoction similar to ale. It is called mead. A woman offers me a cup crafted from a cattle horn. I accept, with no intention of drinking it, but when I see Skarth appear with two women on his arm, laughing shamelessly, I take a long swallow.
It doesn’t taste bad, just very strong. It is also sweet, I think from the honey it’s been brewed with.
They are such resilient farmers. The Saxon people could learn from them instead of fighting. But I don’t think a treaty will be had anytime soon.
The woman laughs when I pull a face once I’ve swallowed down half the mead.
Most are accommodating, but I know they merely tolerate me, for I serve a greater purpose to them all.
The men gather, a sign it’s time to eat. There are many of them, and I do not know how their hierarchy works, so I step aside and allow the women to dish up the meal. I nurse my mead, discreetly watching Skarth as he openly flirts.
I thought after last night, things would have changed, but all it’s done is make me feel a fool.
I help myself to more mead as my appetite has long gone. This is the only thing that quenches my appetite—well, the second thing, for the thing I want won’t even look at me. I swallow the entire cup of mead, wiping the fallen liquid with the back of my hand.
“Careful, Princess, any more and it will be an early night for you.” It’s Ulf who stands by me, the arrogant bastard who seems to be enjoying my discomfort.
“Do not tell me what to do,” I say, reaching for the jug of mead.
“I wouldn’t dare,” he mocks, grinning. “I know you do not do anything you don’t wish to.”
His comment has nothing to do with my drinking and everything to do with our kiss. The kiss I should regret, but don’t.
I don’t tell him that, however.
“You do not have anyone else to annoy?” I smugly state, sipping my drink.
“There is no one else I would rather annoy than you. Skol!” he says, banging our cups together.
I assume skol is the phrase they use to applaud something, not that there is anything for me to celebrate. I hate that Skarth is ignoring me, and I hate it even more when Inga offers him a bowl of stew and sits beside him so they can eat together.
“Not hungry?” Ulf says, following my line of vision.
“I seemed to have lost my appetite,” I reply, turning my back and sitting on a stool.
I expect Ulf to leave me be, but to my surprise, he sits by me and places a bowl of stew in my lap. “Eat.”
“Fancy another face full of food, Lord?” I tease, smirking as I happily recall the image of Ulf covered in porridge.
“For a princess, you are impossibly disobedient.”
I arch a brow and mock, “What a shrewd observation.”
His full lips pull into an amused line. “Are you sure you are not part Viking?”
“I do not know what I am,” I confess, finishing my mead in one long gulp. “I do know, however, that all I am to you is your opportunity to become infamous in Wessex and beyond.”
I expect him to agree or respond with sarcasm, but he does neither.
“You insult me, Princess.” He leans in close, taking my breath away when he whispers, “I kissed you before this opportunity arose, before Skarth hatched his ingenious plan.”
“I was always a trade.” I dare not move, too afraid of the consequences if I do.
“This is true, but now, things have changed. You cannot deny that.”
He’s right.
When he kissed me, our plan was in its infancy. Does this mean he kissed me out of free will?
“You turn the loveliest of pinks when you are uncomfortable,” he says, so close to my ear, his lips brush it. “I wonder where else you flush.”
“I cry your mercy!” I exclaim, pulling away to face him.
We are a hairbreadth away, and I hate that he stirs something in me. He is infuriating, arrogant, and will exploit me to get what he wants, yet I can’t seem to push him away.
My gaze drops to his lips and I remember how they felt pressed to mine. How he felt. He felt good. But so did Skarth.
“Whatever you are thinking, I’d very much like to know.”
“And I’d like to leave now.”
Jolting upright, I quickly walk away, needing to put space between Ulf and me. I don’t know what it is about him, but he annoys and entices me all in the same breath.
As I stomp through the mud, I realize the world has tilted slightly, and I think the reason for that is because I am drunk. The mead was stronger than I thought.
I stop near the barn and pat my faithful horse on the nose.
I don’t know how I ended up in this position, where even though I am out of the palace walls, I am still very much a prisoner to my duty of being the Princess of Northumbria.
I am suddenly exhausted.
But there is no rest for the wicked, it seems, when I hear someone come to a stop behind me. I know who it is before he speaks. I’ve been bound to him since I was twelve years old.
“I believe you are drunk, Princess.”
“And I believe your female companions are missing your company, Lord.”
I turn around to face Skarth, folding my arms. I’m cold, as I am in borrowed clothes two sizes too big, but I’d rather freeze to death than tell Skarth that.
“Stop being such a spoiled little monster,” he has the audacity to say. “We are here because of the deal you made.”
“Spoiled?” I spit, narrowing my eyes. “Everything I have ever done was for the sake of others! And now that I refuse to be mistreated, refuse to be treated as nothing but property, I am spoiled? Fuck you… Northman .”
This word is one I’ve heard the Northmen use quite often. I am not sure what it means, but it sure as…fuck feels liberating to speak it.
“You mock the company I keep,” he says, his blue eyes pinning me to the spot I stand. “But it’s obvious the people you chose to interact with have turned you into a foul-mouthed brat.”
He is referring to one person in particular.
“At least they talk to me,” I counter quickly, for I won’t allow him to belittle me for the language I choose to use. “And you are not my father. I can speak however I wish.”
“No, I am not your father, thank the gods for that.”
This conversation is going nowhere as the more he speaks, the angrier I become. “Leave me be. I came here to be alone.”
He appears wounded. I asked him to leave, but he started this war between us.
“You have not acknowledged me all day. Last night, I—”
But when a snicker leaves him, I regret opening my mouth. “What were you expecting, Princess? To awake in my arms where I whispered sweet longings into your ear?”
“I did not expect anything.” The truth is, however, I did.
I expected it to mean something to him because it meant something to me. I’ve never been that way with a man before—vulnerable and trusting—and this is how he responds. Treating me no better than the men before him.
His steps are measured as he strolls toward me. The shiver that racks my body has nothing to do with the cold wind.
“I understand it was the effect of the battle and nothing more,” I quickly project. “Let’s not speak of it again.”
But that doesn’t stop him from coming.
My heart threatens to rip from its cage as he reaches out, clasping my wrist. He pulls me toward him, pressing us chest to chest. He towers over me, but I don’t cower. I look up at him, daring him to do his worst.
What he does, however, is ruin me forevermore.
“Do not lie to me, Emeline. You forget I know you better than you know yourself,” he declares, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek. He doesn’t remove his fingers, and I lean into his touch. “I know you have been aching for my touch.
“You’ve practically begged for it since I can remember.”
I suddenly don’t like his tone or accusations and attempt to pull away, but he doesn’t let me go, for he isn’t done.
“My needy little princess…always wanting more. Did you think your inexperience was a temptation for me?” he mocks, chuckling arrogantly. “You forget, it may have been the first time for you, but it wasn’t for me.
“It may have been special for you, everything your amorous heart desired, but it’s not like I haven’t done it before. And I have done a lot before…and I plan on doing a lot more come morning. Sorry to disappoint you, Princess, but your cunt is nothing but a distant memory.”
“How dare you!” I shove him away and slap his cheek so hard, I fear I’ve broken my hand. But the pain is worth it. “You are nothing but a filthy heathen!”
Cupping his cheek, he smirks. “And you are nothing but an inexperienced little girl.”
He knows how to wound me because that is the worst thing he could possibly say. Or so I thought.
“But maybe you are not so inexperienced, after all?”
“Now you more than insult me,” I cry, narrowing my eyes.
“So you did not lie in Ulf’s bed?”
My mouth hinges open, revealing my guilt.
“Did he force himself on you? Were his advances unwanted?”
All I can do is wonder when my Northman turned into the cruelest man I know.
“Answer me, Princess. You are quick to judge me, while it seems I do not know you at all.”
Refusing to allow another man to belittle me ever again, I pull back my shoulders and stand proud. “No, to both your questions.”
He stands strong, but I can see I wound him with my response, and I don’t intend on telling him all we shared was one kiss. It’s no business of his.
“What I do and who I do it with is none of your business,” I state with conviction. “And the same applies with you. Bed whomever you like. It makes no difference to me. Last night was merely something for me to learn from because you are right, I am an inexperienced little girl, and there is only one way to change that.”
He insulted me, so now I insult him. He believes me to be nothing but a whore, so I will behave like one.
“I attained what I wanted from you, so thank you, kind lord. But I am not interested in being yet another mistress to a self-absorbed, stupid arse. I will cherish our time together and think back on it fondly. Or maybe as a comparison for future conquests. I am not sure yet.”
A feral growl leaves him, but he can go back to the hole he crawled from.
Shoving past him with intent, I bump my arm into his. “I bid thee farewell. I hope you are not too exhausted come morning. I would not want you to slip and fall on your sword.”
A not-so-subtle warning that we are no longer friends, and he best sleep with one eye open.
I walk away, unable to wipe my smile clean because no longer will I stand for a man treating me like dirt. Last night didn’t go as I expected it would—it was better.
Excitement swells in my belly, and I take off into the darkness, my feet unable to keep up with my exhilaration as I run freely with no destination in mind. But it’s not about the destination, rather the journey, and for the first time ever, I’m excited for what’s ahead.
My loose hair whips in the wind, and an animated scream leaves me as I roar into the night sky.
I don’t understand why Skarth is behaving in such a manner. Is he angry with me because of Sigrith? I would usually be beside myself with apprehension, but I realize it’s time I worried about myself.
No longer will I be used and abused by anyone.
I continue running into the wilderness until I can run no more, then I take my time exploring this foreign land like a smart predator does. It’s quiet when I arrive back. Most are asleep inside their homes. Others by the fire.
I’ve not planned on where to sleep, so I head for the barn as my loyal horse is the only man I trust. However, when I pass a longhouse and see a fire burning brightly inside and hear impassioned moans, it seems not everyone has retired for the night.
I should walk away—that’s what any God-fearing Christian would do—which is why I mask my footsteps and skulk toward the doorway to get a better look.
The door is ajar, allowing me to see inside. At first, however, I don’t understand what I’m seeing. It’s a coupling of arms and legs and lots of bare flesh. I grip the doorway and take a closer look inside, and that’s when a gasp escapes me, for I now know what I see.
Two women and one man lost to the throes of passion.
I am utterly fascinated because I never knew this was possible, but it clearly is when I witness a man’s bronzed, muscled arse pumping back and forth at a hypnotizing speed. He sinks into the lax woman who lays on her back.
Her moans are smothered because her mouth is draped by the woman who rocks against her mouth. She rides her face how one would ride a horse and when the man lowers himself, taking her nipple into his mouth as he viciously humps the other Northman, I see the woman is Inga.
Vomit rises, and I cover my mouth to stop it from expelling and mute my anguished screams, for I know who this man is.
Skarth stuck true to his word of occupying his time till morning.
He is brutal. There is no kindness to his touches. But I suppose there never was. This is who he is.
Inga arches backward, moaning as Skarth pleasures her. Her long blonde hair cascades around them, encasing the three of them in a world made solely for them. The woman Skarth plows is merely an object as it’s clear the real attraction is between him and Inga. But she and Ulf were together, I thought.
That doesn’t seem to make a difference to the Northmen.
They take whatever they want, and it seems Skarth wants it all when he pushes Inga away, only coaxing her onto her hands and knees. He pulls out of the woman, who cries out in pleasured pain.
“On your hands and knees as well,” he orders, his deep, husky voice touching me low even though I don’t want it to.
She quickly does as he orders.
Both of the women’s arses are on show, and now is the moment I should turn around. But I cannot.
Skarth’s long hair is out loose, falling delicately across his broad back. The thin plait held together with beads catches the light from the fire and under the glow, even though I hate him, he is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
He radiates raw, carnal passion, and I am envious of the women, for they have what I will never have again.
Skarth cups their round, firm arses before slapping each one hard, so hard both women jar up the bed from the force. They don’t whine, however. They come back for more.
Anchoring Inga’s hips, Skarth enters her slowly.
Her moans reveal her approval, but when the other woman cups her cheek, drawing Inga’s mouth to hers, it seems everyone approves. Skarth commences pumping into her violently, the noises leaving his parted lips animalistic. He likes it.
Just as he slams into Inga, he retreats just as quickly before entering the other woman.
My eyes widen as I cannot believe what I’m seeing as Skarth humps both women brutally. But the sated moans that spill past their locked lips expose their pleasure. He doesn’t stop. He viciously plows them both—in, out, in, and out before it’s just a flurry of bodies and a collection of moans.
My cheeks are hot, and just like last night, I’m wet between the legs. But hunger aside, I want to murder each woman for touching what is mine.
I hate Skarth the Godless with every breath I take because I am certain he hoped my curiosity would get the better of me, and I would look inside. Why else would he leave the door open?
This is his way of showing me that I may have won the battle, but he will always, always , win the war.
Inga’s body trembles before a wild cry leaves her.
Skarth pulls his member out of her before falling onto his back, his chest rising and falling evenly. Although the world is upside down, he tips his head backward slowly so he can see me clearly as I stand by his doorway, tears in my eyes.
We stare at one another, and what I see reflected back at me scares me, for I see nothing at all.
Inga straddles his lap, taking his enormous length into her as she rides him hard. With sunken eyes still locked to mine, he allows the other woman to mount his face, where she mimics Inga. Both women come together, kissing passionately over the man I love.
I’ve seen enough and quietly escape into the night, but no sleep will be had tonight.
I was awake before dawn, and that’s because I’ve not slept. Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was Skarth and the two women lost to the throes of passion.
Deciding to get an early start on the day, I collected some rocks, twigs, and anything else I could find because I can’t get the battle of Carhampton out of my mind. The landscape is to the Northmen’s advantage. With the coast close by, this allows their men to arrive via ships with ease.
But they need to remain undetected so this will be a surprise attack.
Sitting on the floor with the rocks and twigs spread out before me, I use each object as a marker for the terrain at Carhampton. It’s easier for me to envision the battlefield this way.
Northmen gather around me, watching on in curiosity as I mumble strategies under my breath.
I rode through Carhampton with King Egbert, so I know the land well.
“The coast from here,” I say to myself, shifting a twig to sit alongside a large rock, “is more accessible from the sea. If the Northmen’s ships sail in from this point, they can use the coverage from the mountains and large rocks.”
Sitting back on my heels, I close my eyes and touch each rock and twig, envisioning the landmark they represent. I can see it clearly in my mind.
“King Egbert’s men will attack from land, not the seas. They’ll have the advantage on land, while the Northmen on water. But what if, what if the Northmen ambushed them? The terrain is vast. What if the Northmen tricked them?”
“And how do you suggest we do that?”
Ulf’s interested voice has me opening my eyes, seeing the crowd of Northmen has doubled in size.
He stands before me, arms folded as he looks at the grid I’ve created.
Licking my lips, I push a pile of rocks into the middle of the imaginary battlefield I created. “These are the king’s men,” I reveal, staring at the rocks and picturing my plan.
“And these the Northmen.” I point at the three twigs aligned like soldiers.
“If your men are concealed here”—I gesture toward a pile of leaves which denotes a wooded embankment—“you can wait in hiding. The king’s men will be too focused on the Northmen coming in from the seas and also attacking on land that they won’t see this ambush.
“Once all of the king’s men are in the middle of the battlefield, you attack from the other side, boxing them in. They will be fending off men from behind, each side, and also advancing forward. It’ll be a massacre.”
“How do you know there is an embankment there?” Ulf asks, thumbing his lip in deliberation.
“Because I have passed through there on horseback. I know the terrain well. The men and women can easily be concealed with vegetation.”
“And we are supposed to just take your word for it?” It’s Inga who speaks, and when I meet her eyes, I can’t help but scowl.
“Take my advice, or do not. But when you are defeated and have lost more than half of your men, do not complain as it will be too late.”
“How many wars have you fought, Princess?” She snickers, attempting to belittle me.
“Do not underestimate me,” I warn, which excites the onlookers as they smell what’s brewing.
“Why not show us then?” Inga suggests, throwing her arms out wide. “Fight me and let us see who the better warrior is. If you beat me, I will no longer question your word. What you say, I will do.”
“And if you beat me?”
She grins, a sure sign she believes there are no ifs about it. “If I beat you, then you must fight for your own freedom. You are on your own on the battlefield.”
“Inga!” Ulf scolds, angered.
But I wave him off. “All right. It’s a deal.”
Inga laughs, confident she’s already won this war. “She is a big girl, Ulf. She does not need you to fight her battles. She’s made that very clear.”
Ulf clenches his jaw, clearly not happy with Inga, but like I affirmed last night, I don’t need a man to protect me. I can win my own war.
Coming to a stand, I accept the sword and shield Ulf offers me. He doesn’t hide his worry that I’ve accepted Inga’s challenge because I know there is no going back now. Inga arms herself, a confident smile hinting she thinks this will be an easy fight.
I wonder if she wore that same smile when Skarth was plowing into her relentlessly. The thought provokes my anger, and I get into position, ready to take this witch down.
The Northmen gather in a circle with Inga and me in the middle. They watch on with interest, howling at the prospect of seeing blood spilled. I never take my eyes off Inga because even though I can fight, I know she can too.
She waits for me to make a move, but she has no idea who my teacher was. Skarth taught me that all good things come to those who wait, and when Inga grows impatient, it appears my waiting has paid off.
She attacks me, and I defend, but when she smirks arrogantly, already believing this war is won, I decide to taunt her as that will make this victory all the more sweet.
She strikes out, and even though I can block her attack, I don’t. I allow her to knock the sword from my hand. It crashes to the ground.
The Northmen cry out loudly, encouraging Inga to finish the job.
She charges for me again, and I defend with my shield. She swings her sword, it smashing into my shield, and when I sidestep her attack, she strikes me in the ribs. I’m winded, but I’ve sustained much worse. However, when I drop my shield, gasping in air, Inga thinks she’s won.
“Finish her!” the Northmen scream, revealing where their loyalty lies.
I fold in half, hands on my knees as I stage breathlessness. “Please do not harm me,” I pathetically cry, pretending to be afraid.
Inga shouts something in her language, and when I raise my eyes, I see Skarth watching on closely.
His arms are folded across his broad chest, a slanted smile spread across his full lips, for he knows like a cat, I’m merely playing with my meal. He’s taught me better than to surrender, so when I reach for my fallen sword, he nods in approval.
But I don’t need his approval. I don’t need anything at all.
With a roar, I stand and swing, slapping the sword against the back of Inga’s legs. It catches her unawares, and she falls onto her knees. Before she has a chance to fight back, I stand in front of her and place the tip of my blade to her throat.
She clenches her jaw, glaring at her sword only a step away. “Never turn your back on your enemy,” I calmly state. “But you like being on your knees, mayhap?”
I arch a brow, wanting her to know I saw her last night with Skarth, offering her arse to him, conceding to her carnal lust.
With a snarl, she turns her cheek, admitting defeat.
“I win,” I smugly state, offering her my hand.
She slaps it away, rising on her own, and pushes past the shocked Northmen. They underestimated me, all but one.
Skarth continues staring at me. And I at him.
Ulf follows my line of sight, appearing to realize just who taught me everything I know.
Skarth turns his back, soiling my victory, but this isn’t about him. It’s about me and how I’ve just proven myself to the Northmen. They no longer look at me with animosity but rather with curiosity as I am nothing like the Saxons they’ve met before.
“Come take a walk with me, Princess.” Ulf gestures with his head that I’m to follow. He doesn’t look behind as he knows my curiosity will get the better of me.
I give my sword to Erik, who smiles a toothless grin. His mother still despises me, and that’s okay as I did kill her husband. Even though he was a filthy rat, he was her filthy rat. I seem to understand her stance well when I look for Skarth, but he’s nowhere to be found.
I follow with my head held high, wondering what Ulf wants. I wonder if he’s mad at me for embarrassing Inga. But she embarrassed herself by underestimating me.
Ulf walks into the forest and stops when we’re covered by thick foliage. I stop a few steps away.
He doesn’t turn around to face me right away. He simply tips his head toward the sky and inhales deeply. “Skarth taught you well.”
“He did.” I’m not sure why he needed privacy to divulge that, so I guess he has something else to say.
“You are not like anyone I have ever met before.” He lowers his chin and turns slowly to look at me.
“Thank you. I think?”
He smiles, which is a rare sight as it appears genuine. “We will follow your plan,” he states with conviction. “It’s smart, and it will work.”
“Of course it will,” I affirm with confidence. “The king’s army will be too occupied with trying to survive that they will not see the ambush. We lie waiting until the perfect time to strike. Not a moment before.”
“And you’re okay with your people being crushed this way?”
“Yes,” I reply without pause, “for they were okay crushing me. Wessex and Northumbria both deserve to pay for their sins.”
“Whatever will your God say?” Ulf teases with a grin.
“I fear He has already passed judgment on me.”
“And what does He say?”
Ulf walks toward me slowly, his piercing eyes burning a hole straight through me.
“That I am a sinner. And even if I repented for the rest of my days, it would never be enough.”
“Your God sounds very boring.”
He stops mere inches away, towering over me in not only stature but presence as well. He looks at me with nothing but interest, like I am a mystery he wishes to solve.
“Perhaps I was never meant to bow before anyone?” I pose, suddenly feeling warm.
“I think given the right circumstances, you would enjoy being on your knees.”
Now, I know we are no longer speaking of religion.
He reaches out and thumbs my bottom lip softly. I want to push him away, but I welcome the tenderness of another.
“Would you consider it with me?”
“Consider what?” I ask from around his thumb.
“Consider being with me.”
He slips his thumb into my mouth when it parts in surprise. What is he saying?
“The thought of any harm coming to you…it makes me want to kill whoever wronged you, Inga included,” he confesses. “When you made that deal with her, I would have fought her to the death to protect you.”
I don’t know what to say.
“I thought you and she—” I leave my sentence unfinished as he can work out the rest.
“Just something to pass the time.”
“And what of Sigrith?” The way he reacted when he discovered her fate led me to believe he has feelings for her.
“Sigrith and I,” he commences, removing his thumb with regret. “She was someone I cared for very deeply.”
“Then I assume you are angry with me for the position she’s now in?”
“No, Princess, I am not angry with you. It was Skarth’s job to protect her. That’s why he left us. Did he tell you that?”
I nod.
“Did he tell you we were once the best of friends? That we would have died for the other? Just how our fathers would have? But now, we fight like enemies because his arrogance would not let anyone help him. What was done to his family, he saw to be his fault.
“No one could have stopped it. Not even the gods themselves. But Skarth will never forgive himself for it.”
I didn’t know of their past, but it explains their rivalry. It pains me to know Skarth suffers this way. It also reveals how much he cared for me to leave Sigrith behind.
But I don’t understand his behavior. He treats me like dirt, but is there a reason for it?
“He has an evilness inside that will destroy him and everything he touches.”
“I do not believe that,” I argue as I know Skarth. “He is wedded to a brave, beautiful woman named Cecily. She would have never married him if that were true.”
“He married a Saxon?”
I bite my lip, fearful I’ve revealed too much.
“He is more lost than I thought.”
“Cecily is a good woman,” I say, defending both Skarth’s and her honor.
“If that were true, why is he here? Why is he risking his life for you? Why is he in Inga’s bed?”
I lower my eyes as I don’t have the answers.
“Did you like it when I kissed you?”
I’m not sure what this has to do with our conversation, so I keep my eyes downcast.
“Because I liked it.”
“I am not fooled by you, Lord,” I say, shaking my head. “I merely serve a purpose, and once that is met, you will discard me. I interest you, for I am something you wish to understand. But I do not mistake this for something it is not.”
I know Ulf’s interest in me is pure curiosity. I’m something rare in his world, but once he tires of me, once the novelty wears thin, I will just be a means to an end. And I know without a doubt he would trade my life to get what he wants.
“You misjudge me,” he says, lifting my chin with his finger. “You interest me as you are something I want. I will never understand you, how can I? You are a Saxon. But that doesn’t make a difference to me.”
He leans down while I hold my breath.
“Your strength sings to mine,” he confesses, his lips a hairbreadth away. “I do not understand it. But I want to.”
Our breaths soon become one, but he doesn’t close the space between us. And neither do I.
I can’t deny the attraction I feel for him, regardless of knowing the truth. His disgust at Skarth marrying Cecily is a sure sign that our differences could never be put aside. He will always choose his people, and me? I’m not sure who I would choose—in more ways than one.
“My bed is always warm for you, Princess,” he declares, heating my cheeks. “And I know, no matter how hard you try to resist, it’s my bed you will end up in. Maybe not tomorrow or the day after, but you and I, we are connected…whether you like it or not.”
“Or not, Lord,” I reply, but there is no bite to my tone. “I will not be enslaved to any man ever again.”
“Who said anything about being enslaved? We are equal. But I will dominate you, and you me, where it matters.”
“And where would that be?” I’m almost afraid to ask.
“Wherever you want it to be, Princess. On the battlefield. In the kingdoms. Or in my bed,” he adds, grinning as I whimper. “Although, I would not need a bed, for I am ready for you—always.”
With eyes locked to mine, he closes the small distance between us, and just when I think he’s going to kiss me again, he turns his cheek.
I stop myself from falling forward, hiding my disappointment—not that he pulled away, but that I continue allowing myself to fall under his spell.
“I will tell the men and women of our plans. We will decide who will sail out tonight to gather our people.”
“All right. That seems wise. I am unsure how long it takes to sail to Scandinavia?”
He arches a brow. “You know of my people?”
“I know a lot of things, Ulf the Bloody.”
“It seems so.”
I need to put some distance between us, so I push past him even though I have no idea where I’m going. But the freedom is what entices me to continue.
I don’t know what it is about Ulf, but sometimes, he has me forgetting the world exists beyond us. It terrifies me.
I don’t know if what he says is true. If he, in fact, feels what he says he does. I don’t know anything at all, it seems. The one thing I thought I did know was that Skarth would always be with me. But I was wrong.
Tears fill my eyes, and I don’t even know why I’m crying. I weep for so many things. For the girl I no longer am. And for my broken heart, broken by the man who I can’t seem to stop loving, regardless of everything he’s done.
Tears blur my vision, and I don’t think they’ll ever stop, but I hear it a second too late…before my world is thrown into darkness—thanks to a king’s guard who steps out from behind a tree.