Chapter 8
RASHA
Stay awake. Stay awake. Stay awake.
I need to move, but I am so cold. Rubbing my chest to try to warm up, I hear Aslaug moving on top of the ledge.
Maybe she will be loving and come down here to cuddle with me so I don’t pass out?
Laying down on the ice near my carvings, I watch my blood trickle through them and realize how much I miscalculated my ability to withstand the cold.
My hips and shoulders ache in defeat. Maybe I’ll sleep and wake up to the sun warming me?
The skin on my cheek is stuck to the frosty ground, making it painful to move, but I see someone coming.
“Aslaug!” Shaw’s voice echoes in a harsh call across the fjord, and I swear snow rattles from the mountain. Ignoring me, she leaps off the ledge and bounds to her master.
Ripping my face off the ice, I can’t tell if I tore my skin or not due to being mostly numb. I move my sleeve over the cut on my arm and steady my weight, trying to move my limbs. My pants are wet with ice and snow making my movements stiff.
Shaw watches as I slide around. He is going to have cross words with me about coming here alone, which is not how I pictured this night going.
I’d rather keep the upper hand and make it to him with my chin held high.
But without Aslaug to lean on, it is harder to balance.
He sees me floundering, falling hard, and strides across the ice with his heavy, black coat engulfing his frame.
“What are you doing out here?” he says before he reaches me. I get to my feet, and he grabs my hips with his strong hands.
“I had to see for myself if there was a tomb. Are you out here trying to find the bow before I do?” My voice wavers in the cold, but I stay determined. He looks past me to Aslaug’s ledge and shakes his head.
“You took her out of the room when you promised you wouldn’t.” He switches topics to scold me.
“I’d rather talk about the longboat at the bottom of the fjord that you should have told me about, since she is a grown animal and broke out of my room all by herself.”
He turns to her, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they were somehow silently communicating. Aslaug rubs her body against my shaking legs and beams up at him. His hand is firm around my waist, and I feel his muscles relax as he uses his other hand to pet her.
“No one has ever found the bow, Rasha. One tomb under the ice doesn’t mean what you think,” Shaw murmurs, bringing my body closer to his.
I swallow the dryness in my throat. Opening his coat, he pauses and drops his hand from my side.
“Warm yourself for a moment, and I’ll take you back before we all freeze to death. ”
Did he come out here looking for me or for the bow to have an advantage over Harald? My thoughts are lost to the wind as I stand next to him, waiting for something to happen.
“Rasha, you can come closer if you want,” he says, and I glide into his solid chest. Burying my face in the heat of his tunic, I feel his arms wrap around and cover me with his coat. His chin rests on my head while I let his body heat warm my lungs so I can take a proper breath.
“I wouldn’t let anything happen to her,” I finally whisper, taking in his scent of burning embers and pine.
“She is a gift from the gods. I have failed them in the past, so I am protective,” he admits. His hands rub circles over my back, and I smoosh my face into the ties and seams of his tunic.
“Why didn’t you say she might know the way? Is she trying to show me the tomb or what she thinks I need to see?”
“She is bringing you to those she greatly misses,” he says. Our faces are so close that he could rest his cheek against mine. Our hot breath mingles, taking shape on the icy air and rising up around us.
“So there is a chance the bow is under the ice?” I ask again, trying to understand why he doesn’t trust me.
“I’ll explain, but first we need to get inside,” he replies, letting go of my body against his.
I back away and throw my arms out to find balance.
Shaw seems to have no trouble walking on the ice, and despite grabbing my hands a few times to prevent me from falling, we manage to make it back to land uneventfully.
On our way to the wall, we find evergreen branches to wipe away our tracks and stay low to avoid being seen.
When we are at the loose part that I came through earlier, Shaw kneels on one knee to whisper something to Aslaug.
Brushing her head against my hand in her own form of goodbye, she takes off into the darkest part of the forest.
“Where is she going?” I ask in alarm.
“Where she will be safe. I’ll check on her tomorrow before the feast. Besides, she needs to hunt, and it’s safer for her away from the clans.”
“You aren’t worried she isn’t healed fully?” I ask, wedging my body through the tight wooden slats.
“I am, but if she breached your room to find you, it means she is ready to be in the wilderness,” he explains.
It is harder for his bulky shoulders to fit through, but he does, and we throw our hoods over our heads to keep anyone still awake from recognizing us.
The village is barren and quiet. Everyone is sleeping, tucked into their cozy beds in the longhouses for the night.
Soon enough, we are standing in front of the stronghold.
“Do you have a tub?” Shaw asks, and I shake my head. Lingering together is dangerous, but I have no desire to go to bed cold and alone. He takes my hand, and we leave the double doors to meander around the side where the forge is.
“The forge has a tub?” I watch his hazel eyes catch my raised eyebrows.
“The forge is well stocked,” he replies and opens the door for me to go inside. Adding a stack of logs to the bottom of the kiln, he pumps the air from the top to reignite the fire below.
“You should take off those wet clothes,” he says as he walks around collecting things.
Touching my wet pants, I find the ties with my numb fingers and struggle to loosen the knot.
Getting naked in front of a man with the power to do anything he wants with me is a terrible idea, but he hasn’t shown a hint of aggression or need.
I abandon the frozen ties and look around instead. Weapons in all stages of being struck and welded are everywhere. Swords and axes in various conditions line the tables and drying racks. Tools, crowd buckets, and black stained clothes are hung over chairs.
Shaw carries heavy pales of snow into a back room, and I follow him. He’s already taken off his layers of fur and black suede, keeping only a white tunic on. Sleeves rolled up, he adds snow to a small wooden tub with a smoldering fire underneath.
“Thank you.” My voice is small against the snow splashing into the tub. Over his shoulder, he catches me staring and puts the bucket down. Dipping his hand in, he shakes his fingers with excess water and walks over to where I stand.
“I didn’t think you’d run off in the dead of night to go look for a bow. Are you always this impatient?” he asks, and my cheeks redden.
“I am not impatient. I need to find a way to stop this marriage and Harald.”
My body is at odds with the cold and the heat from the fire below the tub. I shrug out of my coat and try again to take my frozen tunic or pants off. My fingers shake so badly I want to scream, but he’ll think I really don’t have any patience.
“Rasha, let me help you.” His voice is soft like he is speaking to Aslaug.
Letting my limbs go slack at my sides, I look off to the side of the room, trying to will all the arousal out of my blood.
He takes a knife from the little table near his cot and finds the ties.
I feel his eyes on mine, and I stare back.
Without looking at my body, he cuts the ties and loosens my waistband.
I find the edge of my pants and shimmy out of them, breaking the palpable hunger between us. No one said I had to stay away from the touch of men, I only have to be a virgin, which is becoming less and less of a focal point. I don’t need to be a virgin to wield a bow that might not even exist.
“Do you need help with the rest of it?” he asks, and my willpower dwindles.
“Go on,” I whisper. This time I close my eyes as his rough hands trace the edge of my skin under the long, wet tunic. Raising my arms above my head, I allow him to pull the whole wet top over my body.
Being naked, wholly free, in front of him is a moment I might treasure till they light my corpse on fire. How can a sane man be this honorable? Taking my elbow in his calloused hand, he opens my arm to see the cut I made with my own knife, causing me to flinch.
“What did you do?” His question is quiet. Sudden nerves spread over my chest like I’ve made a mistake. Looking down at the cut above the crook of my arm my soggy skin still trickles tiny drops of blood.
“I made an offering,” I reply. Whatever he wants to say comes out in a grunt, and he squeezes his hand around my skin to stop the bleeding. I am no longer aware of the difference between pain and pleasure.
My pink nipples harden in the drafty bedroom.
We are too close. With his hands on the small wound, my desire for him to put his hands elsewhere is almost too much to bear.
He lets out a ragged breath, forcing me to come to my senses.
Stepping around him, I move into the steaming tub, thankful to be able to hide under the water.
“You could have died out there. I told you before I would take you. Can’t you trust me?” The concern in his voice makes no sense. I don’t know anything about him other than he cares for a creature gifted to him by the gods. I don’t even know why the gods favor him.
“What do you care if I die? And why should I trust you? For all I know, you could tell Harald everything you’ve seen me do tonight and be rewarded. You are a free man. At any time, you can take your cat and leave.”
“I am not free,” he bites out and comes to the edge of the tub so we can properly glare at each other.
“That makes two of us,” I challenge, bringing my forearms to the same edge, and we are once again touching. His tense thumb brushes over my ice-burned cheek like he’s fighting to regain his composure but wants to feel me against his skin all the same.
“You have a clan that admires you and women who look up to you. Stop being so reckless.”
“So rescuing your cat and trying to find a relic from the gods is reckless?”
He grinds his jaw together. “You’re the Maiden of Yule. Act like it.”
“Don’t Maiden me. I saved myself to be worthy of being a huntress. To serve the goddesses. And all my prayers, all my sacrifices, have gone unheard. That’s why I went out on the fjord tonight.”
“Your prayers have not fallen on deaf ears. If you want a reason why I am fond of you, or why for the next eight days we should trust each other, I don’t have one. But fate is foolish.” He stretches to stand and adjusts his trousers to hide his hard cock bulging against the seam.
“Shaw, you don’t have to go.” I don’t know what I plan on doing if he stays, but sending him away feels painful.
He holds his position in the doorway, finally gazing down at me. “I’ll be right outside,” he replies, taking his time to drink me in before leaving.
The water is exactly what I needed to thaw my frozen muscles.
Rubbing my thighs and arms, my thick blood starts to flow again, and turns my skin a rosy pink under the steam.
I don’t feel the least bit ashamed that he saw me naked.
Smiling to myself at how hard he must be as he waits, I decide I don’t need to wash my hair.
Getting it wet will only make me colder, so I lean my shoulders on the wooden edge and picture the fjord.
He knew where the tomb was because he found me.
Which means, like I thought earlier, there is something of value under the ice.
Settling in my new found satisfaction, I close my eyes and picture his hand cupping my breast instead of my arm, imagining the feeling of his calloused hands over my sensitive nipples instead of the warm water in the bath.
As much as there is a unique tie keeping us together, I cannot understand if it is fate guiding me to him or cruel temptation showing me I am on this journey alone.
Jorvik is obsessed with forcing me to marry Harald, and Harald expects me to have my virtue intact.
Fuck all the men who think I will be so easily pushed around.