Chapter 19
Silence followed for several minutes after Boyce’s grave news. Rhodes stood before her, his frame blocking the glow of the hearth, his expression carved from stone.
“You’ll stay here,” he said firmly. “Do not leave this chamber.”
Fawn rose quickly from the bed, fire sparking in her green eyes. “I want to know what’s happening. You can’t keep me shut away like some—”
He caught her hand, stilling her protest, his grip like an iron shackle though not cruel.
“Nay,” he said, his tone final. “I’ll speak with Boyce and return when I have answers. You’ll remain here.”
Her lips parted, her chin tilting in defiance, but the command in his eyes left her no ground to stand on. Frustration churned in her chest as he released her and strode to the door, pulling it shut behind him with a decisive thud.
Fawn dropped down on the bed, her mind churning.
The fire in the hearth’s solar burned high, but its heat did little to chase the cold that had settled deep in Rhodes’s chest.
Boyce stood stiffly, his face lined with worry, his broad shoulders rigid, his tone grim. “The men are uneasy. They’ll be reluctant to face a witch. Fear has its claws in them already, fear of what she might do, and of that hellhound she keeps at her side.”
Rhodes paced a short line across the wood floor, his jaw tight with annoyance. “Then they need not face her. I will.”
Boyce’s eyes widened. “Alone? That’s folly.
She’s no common foe to meet blade to blade.
” Boyce pressed on, his voice rising with rare force.
“You don’t know what she is capable of! Spells, curses, things that no shield or sword can turn.
If something happens to you, Rhodes, what then? What of the clan?”
Rhodes turned a sharp tongue on him, the air in the chamber taut as a drawn bow. “Enough. I lead this clan. I rule it, not you. Now leave me.”
The words struck like a lash, snapping the argument short. Boyce’s jaw worked, his fists clenched, but at last he gave a stiff bow of his head and stepped back.
Silence pressed heavy after his departure.
Rhodes moved to the narrow window, resting one hand against the cold stone of the wall. Snow rattled against the shutters, each sharp tap echoing his unease.
This was her doing… the witch. The same shadowed figure who had twisted his fate that night by the fire. Could it be true? Could she be behind the slaughter, the fear festering among his people, the whispers of hellhounds?
The thought gnawed at him. He had faced warriors, raiders, men twice his size and strength, and never once faltered. But a witch… that was a foe he did not understand. Her power was unseen, unpredictable. And if she commanded beasts with the same certainty Fawn soothed them—
His hand tightened on the sill. This was for him to see done one way or another.
He dragged in a breath, forcing the coil of anxiety in his gut into steel. Whatever the cost, he would not let a witch unravel his clan or harm his wife.
Still, as the storm howled outside, the truth pricked at the back of his mind. For the first time in his life, Rhodes would enter a battle not knowing if strength alone would be enough.
He left his solar and made his way back to his bedchamber. He pushed open the door, his face shadowed with fury.
Fawn turned from where she stood near the hearth, the relief that rose in her chest dying when she saw his expression.
“Tell me,” she urged, worry in her tone.
“The witch is behind this,” he said, his voice vile with accusation. “All witches bring rot and ruin, curses, pestilence, death. They corrupt everything they touch. It is their way. They deserve nothing but to be bound to the stake and burned.”
Her breath caught as though he had struck her.
Heat flushed her cheeks, anger rising swift and sharp.
“You damn them all the same,” she said, her voice trembling with restrained fury.
“Every healer who eases a fever, every wise woman who tends a birth, every soul who dares live apart? You would cast them all into the fire for lies people spew?”
His dark eyes flared, his jaw turned rigid. “Do not defend them to me, Fawn. You know nothing of the dangers they bring. If this witch thinks to toy with me, I’ll meet her myself.”
She stared at him, disbelief turning quickly to anger. “Alone? You’re a fool if you believe you can stand against a witch with nothing but steel and pride.”
Her words cut sharp, but fear throbbed beneath them. She bit the inside of her mouth, holding back what she could never tell him—that her own mother’s power ran dark and deep, that even she herself had no defense against certain spells.
And if he faced her mum…
Her mind flew to Simon, the wolfhound that only padded at her mother’s side when she believed she would need his help.
He was vicious when protecting Theodora, gentle otherwise.
He had nudged Fawn’s hand for a scratch more than once and a hug as well.
He loved hugs. He was a sweetheart. But in battle?
Rhodes would never see that side of him.
She forced her voice to hold steady, her chin lifting. “You think yourself invincible, Rhodes, but witches do not fight like men. If you seek her out, you may find you’ve walked into a snare you cannot break.”
His gaze bore into hers, unreadable but unrelenting. “Then let her try. She’ll learn soon enough that I bow to no one, not even a witch.”
“I will not listen to such insanity and foolishness,” Fawn snapped, whirling toward the door. She seized the iron latch, intent on leaving before her temper, or her fear, betrayed her further.
But Rhodes was faster. He came up behind her in a rush, the heavy door slamming shut beneath his hand. His body pressed against hers, caging her between the wood and the heat of his hard body.
For a moment, neither spoke.
His arm slid around her waist, firm and unbending, keeping her still. His other hand splayed wide, above her head, against the door. She felt the weight of his breath against her neck, the brush of his face burying into the fiery tumble of her curls.
Her sweet scent—wild herbs and woodsmoke—wrapped around him, chasing the fury from his chest.
When he finally spoke, it was a whisper against her hair. “You do not deserve my anger.”
But no apology followed.
Fawn turned slowly and when she did, he pressed his body harder against hers and before she could utter a word, his lips came down on hers in a demanding kiss.
He stole her breath and any desire to continue to argue.
She didn’t want to fight, debate, or worry.
At the moment, all she cared about was… loving her husband.
Love.
She could no longer deny it. She loved the big fool that he was for even thinking he could conquer a witch. But then he had conquered her heart, so maybe, just maybe, he could at least come to terms with her mum. More so, who she was… a witch.
He tore his mouth off hers, a growl rumbling deep in his chest. “You have bewitched me, woman. I cannot stop thinking about you, wanting to kiss you, touch you, love you endlessly.”
Fawn waited to see if he would correct himself and say, make love to you endlessly, but he didn’t. He left his words as they were, and her heart hammered against her chest at the thought that he just might love her as she loved him.
“I have a need for you that I have never had for any woman,” he grumbled as if it annoyed him. He brushed his lips over hers. “A need I fear will never be quenched. I will always need you, want you. It is like you are part of me and I cannot live without you.”
And she thought he wasn’t romantic. His words certainly proved otherwise.
She voiced the obvious, a thought that poked at her now and again when trying to make sense of how she felt about him. “We barely know each—”
“Nay,” he argued, “we know each other well, better than anyone. We were destined for each other.”
She smiled. “How can I argue with that?”
“You can’t,” he said as if he ruled it so. “You’re mine. Always mine.”
He lifted her with one arm, her legs going around his waist as he hoisted her up, as if out of habit, as if she had done so hundreds of times before now. His lips settled on hers, hungry and wanting, as he walked to the bed. He went down on the bed with her.
“I have no patience to linger, my need is too great for you,” he said, his breath harsh in her ear.
“I feel the same,” she assured him, her passion having mounted quickly, and wanting nothing more than to feel him inside her, filling her with pleasure.
Garments were fumbled with until Rhodes stood in a flash. “This will not do. I want to feel you naked against me.”
He reached down and yanked her out of bed, and together they fumbled at each other’s garments, hurrying to undress.
Once done, Fawn dropped down on the bed, her arms stretched out to him and her legs spread wide.
Rhodes took a moment, his eyes roaming over her, and with a quiet yet strong voice, said, “You are gorgeous, wife.”
He slipped into her arms and into her with ease, a perfect fit. She held tight to him, her legs locking around him.
With their passion fired by words and love, they set a quick, hard rhythm, clinging to each other, kissing, urging, sharing the intensity that only love can bring as their pleasure soared beyond reason.
They burst together with shouts, moans and groans of pure pleasure, Rhodes collapsing on top of her, and she held him tight as the last of her pleasure dwindled away and a shudder rocked her body.
Rhodes lifted his head and what should have sounded like heartfelt declaration sounded more of an accusation. “Bloody hell, wife, I love you.”