Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Through the darkened village, I lead us to an abandoned barn. It’s not usual for a standing structure to remain empty in these parts, but the old woman who owned this little homestead was said to have been a witch, so the villagers avoid it.
I stumble over a clump of dried grass already covered with a film of slushy snow. Uram shoots out a hand and catches me before I sprawl on the ground.
“Careful,” he says.
“I can’t see in the dark,” I grumble. “I’m doing the best I can.”
He clucks his tongue. “You should have said so.”
He holds on to me, guiding me around brambles and loose stones until we arrive at the rickety barn door.
Uram pushes it open and ducks inside first, bidding me to wait outside until he checks that it’s safe.
I don’t obey. I know full well it’s safe because I stayed here for a couple of days when I first arrived in this village, before I found the job at the inn.
“There should be a lantern in the corner,” I murmur. “And a flint.”
Uram doesn’t say anything, but his footsteps retreat to that corner, and soon, a yellow pool of light blooms from the lantern, illuminating the small space.
My new companion is so tall that the top of his head reaches the wooden ceiling.
I take the blanket with all my worldly possessions and carry it over to the pile of straw which had served as my bed during the time I spent here.
“You know this place,” Uram says.
It’s not a question, but I answer anyway.
“I have a knack for finding abandoned places. This one was better than most I’ve stayed in.”
“You move around a lot?” he asks, his voice neutral.
“Yes,” I reply, leaving it at that.
My clothes are wet, as are my shoes. I’m starting to shiver, but lighting a fire inside this decrepit old structure would be too dangerous. I’ll just have to make do with the damp blanket and that straw heap.
“Turn around,” I demand. “I need to change my clothes.”
Uram stares at me for a long moment. I wait him out, ready for his attack.
This is the moment of truth—we’re alone, and I’m defenseless against him, a strange man.
If he decides to force himself on me, this is when he’ll do it.
I grip the little pocketknife that Jasmine packed along with my other things, knowing it won’t do much against a man this large.
But if I allow him to come close enough, I might be able to hit something vital, like his neck.
But he utters a low curse, then turns his back on me. It hits me that despite my small size, the gesture is significant—as a warrior, he must be wary of putting himself in a position like this. It shows…trust.
Hurrying, I drop the knife onto the blanket and struggle out of the wet woolen dress. Then I pull my linen shift over my head and tug a fresh, dry one on, shivering in the cold. I wrap myself in that damp blanket, sit on the straw, and pull my legs to my chest.
“You can turn around now.”
Uram slowly faces me, his expression tight. “Your teeth are chattering.”
I grimace. “Not a lot I can do about that.”
He removes his large cloak and crouches by my side. “If I tell you I won’t hurt you, will you let me help you?”
In the dim light, his dark eyes seem bottomless, but when I scan his features, I’m not afraid. Maybe I’m too tired for that. There’s something about his careful movements that tells me he’s trying hard not to scare me, and for now, that’s enough for me.
I give him the tiniest nod, and he explodes into movement.
He reaches out, picks me up, and sets me on my feet.
Startled, I grasp the edges of my blanket tighter and watch as he spreads his cloak on the straw, then strips off his linen shirt.
Suddenly, he’s half-naked in front of me, green skin illuminated by the orange glow of the lantern.
I gape at him, unable to help myself. I’ve seen men shirtless before, of course, but none were built like that, with thick slabs of muscle or shoulders twice the width of mine. I knew Uram was large, since he towers over me, but seeing him like this…
I close my eyes tight. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”
He brushes his hand over my cheek, then takes my chin in his fingers. “Look at me, Rose.”
It’s the first time he’s said my name, and it sends a shiver of awareness through me. I obey him anyway, finding myself face to face with him.
“I will not hurt you,” he repeats, his words a solemn promise. “Even though my body calls to claim my mate. I want to sink so deep inside you, but I will wait until the day you beg me for it. Until then, you are safe with me.”
I gasp, swaying on the spot. The sensations he sparks in me are not entirely foreign, but my body has never responded this strongly before. His voice, his touch, even his scent—of fresh mountain springs and green grass—appeal to me in the most intimate way.
Uram’s lips turn up at the corners, and he drops his hands to my shoulders. “Ah, there is hope for us yet, little mate. Now, please, I need your blanket.”
Reluctantly, I let go, and he guides me to lie down on top of his cloak. He rolls up his shirt, offering it to me as a pillow, then lowers himself in the spot behind me.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice too high.
“You are cold,” he answers simply. “I will warm you up.”
He rears up and blows out the lantern, then molds himself around my body, tucking my back firmly against his chest. His heavy arm comes to rest over my waist, and his warm exhale ruffles the hair on my nape.
I hold myself stiffly at first, still worried he might pounce on me. But with every steady heartbeat I feel at my back, I relax some more. His body is deliciously warm, and as the heat gets trapped under our shared blanket, I slowly thaw out, becoming drowsier by the second.
“Thank you,” I mumble.
He lets out a low chuckle. “I should be thanking you. To finally hold my mate… It is everything.”
He pauses for a moment, then presses a kiss to the spot where my neck meets my shoulder. I shiver, but not from the cold. That single caress is enough to stir something deep in my belly, embers of passion I never knew existed.
Uram lets out a low groan and squeezes me against his chest. The hard ridge of his cock presses into my ass, recognizable even through his leather pants and my shift.
But he doesn’t rut into me, nor does he attack me in any way, so I slowly settle into his warmth, content to ignore his cock if he is, too.
I can’t help the way my nipples pebble under my shift, or the way my body goes soft and pliant at the thought of us…together. I’ve slept with men before, strangers who were content to help me chase away the loneliness for a night, but this feels different. It feels like more.
My thoughts drift, and Uram’s arms become my anchor, his words my lullaby.
“Sleep now, little mate.”