Chapter 51
Kassandr’s beast thrashed restlessly within him, as it had since his father had made his insidious demand of Saga.
She had saved their people from the Urkans and had fostered the first step toward peace with the clans beyond the river.
As far as Kassandr was concerned, his father ought to be falling at her feet. Giving her anything she demanded.
Instead, he’d strong-armed her into a marriage with Kassandr.
I will never marry you.
Her words burned through his skull, setting fire to his veins. Once he had wanted this—desperately so. He had to admit there was still a part of him willing to have her by whatever means necessary. Perhaps, this part of him said, she will grow to love you.
No, another part of him countered. Not this woman who’d been held captive all her life—who saw marriage as yet another cage.
Now he stalked through the remnants of Kovograd Fortress, his mood darkening with each step. He lost himself to time, but eventually, Kassandr found himself rattling Saga’s locked door. It wasn’t long before Alasa unlocked and cracked the door open, eyes widening before she dipped into a curtsy.
“My lord,” said Alasa, not moving from the doorway to allow Kassandr entry, “she is indisposed at the moment.”
“Who is it?” called Saga from within the room.
“Kassandr,” he replied, trying to keep his voice steady as his beast howled and scratched, desperate to get to her. “I must speak with you.”
Alasa shook her head, knuckles white where they gripped the doorframe. “You mustn’t. It is improper—”
“Let him in,” said Saga, to Kassandr’s great surprise. Reluctantly, Alasa stepped aside, allowing Kassandr entry. But his feet soon faltered, and he damned near choked on his own tongue.
Steam rose in undulating waves from a large wooden tub set near the hearth.
And there, within that tub, sat Saga Volsik.
Her bared back faced him, and his eyes hungrily traced the curve of her shoulder, then jumped to a bead of water sliding down her spine.
Saga’s hair was still woven into a crown of braids, and it took all of his restraint not to cross the room to her and unbind it.
“You may leave, Alasa,” said Saga. On the surface, she seemed like a woman in control, yet the slight waver in her voice betrayed her.
“My lady—” objected Alasa.
“Do not worry after my virtue, Alasa,” Saga replied, her voice more level now. “He is, after all, my betrothed.”
Kassandr’s beast howled, and his lips curved into a lazy smile.
But the circumstances of their engagement surged back to mind, and his smile fell away.
Kass was dimly aware of the swish of Alasa’s skirts.
The thunk of the iron latch. But more than anything else, he was aware of the sound of rippling water as Saga moved within the tub.
He cleared his throat. Tried to recall why he’d come.
“I suppose,” said Saga, “you’ve finally caught me unclothed.”
Kassandr made a nonsensical, garbled sound. He shook his head, trying to clear his senses.
“You do not need to marry me,” he finally forced across his lips as his beast snarled and his body tried to hold the words back. “I will give to you the help you ask for. I will go to íseldur with you, and will bring strong warriors. We will fight with you all the same.”
Her spine grew rigid, and he wanted to drop to his knees behind her. Knead the tension from her shoulders.
“Now you do not wish to marry me?” she bristled.
“It was wrong what I did.” The words wrought shame and a deep sense of remorse. “To take away your choice. To think I know what is best for you. I should have asked for your decision and respected it, even if I did not like it.”
Her intake of breath was so faint, a man with ordinary hearing would have missed it.
“I wish only for your happiness.” Kassandr clenched his fists to keep himself rooted in place. “And so I will go to my father and…force him to do what is right.”
She was silent a long moment, and Kass pictured her chewing on her lip in thought. When at last she spoke, her words rocked him to his core.
“And if I do choose it? To marry you?”
For a moment, time seemed to stand still.
His beast gave a triumphant howl, blood pumping hot through his veins.
And for the first time in weeks, Kassandr allowed his old fantasy to replay in his mind’s eye.
Saga by his side, sharing the daymeal each morning.
Saga, sitting on a throne beside his, her clever wit strengthening his kingdom.
Saga, tangled in the furs of his bed, writhing beneath him…
A sharp breath escaped him, and Kassandr realized he’d been silent for far too long. “What are you saying?” he asked.
“I’m saying,” she said, toying with the water, “that perhaps you’re brash and drive me absolutely mad. But I’ve been betrothed twice before and I find you far preferable to my other promised husbands.”
Kass’s brows dipped low at the reminder of Magnus Hansson and Bjorn Ivarsson. His beast’s hackles rose, a fierce wave of protectiveness thrashing through him.
Mine.
He shook his head, trying to clear it. He’d allowed such thoughts to drive him before, and it had been the wrong choice. Now he knew better.
“Not good enough,” he growled, hating himself just a little. “Your reasons are lacking.”
Saga turned her face to reveal her profile. Kassandr’s eyes roamed over her tilted blue eyes, the slant of her jaw, the elegant arch of her neck, and desire surged through him with dizzying force.
“What if,” Saga whispered, “I told you that I admire your character?”
His knees nearly buckled. “My character?”
She nodded, though the corners of her lips tugged down. “It was despicable of you to take away my choice, Kassandr, and I do not know if I’ve yet forgiven you.” The rising steam eddied with her exhalation. “Perhaps it is a comfort to know that you had my best interests at heart.”
His beast ran circles inside his chest.
“I suppose I understand you better now,” continued Saga. “And though sometimes you make the most wretched of choices, I’ve found your character to be remarkably steady.” She lifted a shoulder in a delicate shrug. “I find that an admirable trait in a husband.”
Kassandr turned her words over. Looked for hidden meaning. “Winterwing,” he said, his voice a low rasp. “Are you telling me that you…like me?”
“ ‘Like’ is too strong a word.”
Kass could not help his cocky grin. “You have a fondness for me.”
“I tolerate you. You will make a tolerable husband.”
A low chuckle escaped him. Her words were playful, teasing even. And though they were not bold proclamations of love, they hinted at something. Forgiveness. A chance to start anew.
He shoved a hand through his hair, his mind awhirl. Kassandr had come to this room to release her from the shackles of marriage, but he’d never considered she might want it for herself.
“Very well,” he said softly. “If you do not object, then I suppose it is agreed.” A sly smile spread across his lips. “Shall we seal it with a kiss?”
Saga snorted. “That never was a Zagadkian tradition, was it, Rurik?”
He shook his head, then realized she could not see him. “No. But how can you blame me for trying?”
“Very well,” said Saga, her voice a near whisper. “Let us seal it with a kiss.”
Kassandr might have lost his mind, for he did not remember surging forward, only that he suddenly found himself kneeling on the floor beside the tub.
Claim! snarled his beast, the need to mindlessly rut barreling through his veins. Kassandr yanked on its leash, trying to cage it away. But the sight of Saga Volsik reclined in that tub had knocked all the sense from his skull.
A better man would have kept his eyes on hers, but Kass had never been known for his self-control. His eyes dipped to her knees, hugged to her chest. She held them with a white-knuckled grip that made him frown, and a shred of his wits returned to him.
“We need not—”
“I want to,” she interjected.
Kassandr hardly dared breathe for fear he’d frighten this beautiful creature away—this lovely woman who would soon be his wife. He trained his gaze on the fluttering pulse in her throat, longing to scrape his teeth along it, to sink into her flesh with his claiming bite—
Instead, he leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the edge of the tub, and took her mouth in a rough kiss.
Saga, to her credit, only faltered for a moment before her lips moved against his.
Fire blazed through him, burning up all his plans for caution.
Kassandr leaned farther forward, but Saga did not slink back.
Instead, she melted against him, filled all the broken places inside him.
A whimper came from Saga’s throat, and it spurred him on.
Kassandr leaned farther forward and cupped her face as he showed her with his lips just how good they could be—she his queen, and he her protector.
Her husband. His elbows had dipped below the waterline in the tub, but he couldn’t care, because Saga’s fingers clutched at his wrists, holding him in place.
She was barely keeping up with the strokes of his eager tongue, and Kassandr had to remind himself that she was unused to this—that he should go slowly.
But this was his Saga, and he’d yearned for her for so very long.
Kassandr was painfully hard, his cock straining against his breeches. And gods, but he longed to pull her from the tub. To splay her legs wide on the furs before the hearth and bury his face between them. What sounds would she make when he made her come? He had to find out.
But not yet.
As Kassandr broke the kiss, he felt he deserved an award, for it had taken every last shred of his will.
He eased back just a touch, though he was still leaning over the tub.
Saga’s blue eyes were glazed, her cheeks and lips flushed, and for a moment they stared at each other, breaths mingling in the steam.
“More,” whispered Saga, pulling on his hands—trying to bring his lips back to hers.
“Soon,” he said, his voice rough as broken stone. “We must save something for our wedding night.”
It gave him immense pleasure to watch her eyes darken—to give the maddening woman a taste of her own ale. After all, she’d been driving him mad with want since the day he’d met her. Now she, too, would suffer.
His beast was livid, railing against the sudden appearance of Kassandr’s self-control, and resisting its call to claim was the hardest thing Kassandr Rurik had ever done.
“I will care for you, Winterwing,” he promised her in a low voice.
“I will cherish you. I will protect you and stay by your side. Each day I will work to earn back your trust.” He studied her face in exquisite detail, noting the droplet of water clinging to long, black lashes; the tiny freckle just beside her ear.
He pressed one last, lingering kiss to her lips, and then he forced himself to stand.
His beast pounded against the cage of his chest, urging him to go back, but Kassandr forced himself to take one step toward the exit, then another.
He wasn’t sure if he breathed until there was a closed door between him and the naked form of Saga Volsik.
Kass sagged against the wall, bracing himself against his beast’s tantrum. Gods, but he was in trouble.