Chapter 4 #2
Her smile made her look like her other brother, Maardok—the good-natured giant—must have before his cheek had been marred. It felt as if she were trying to distract me from the argument, and I took great pleasure in telling her the truth.
“When the call went out that we were being attacked by sea raiders, I grabbed my blades and joined the men on the beach. Your brother engaged with me.”
Issa gasped, dropping her spoon to plant her palms on the table. I saw small claws emerge from her fingertips, but her expression appeared…delighted?
“Ye fought him? Ye ken blades?”
Unable to help my pride, I felt my shoulders straighten.
“Aye. My father taught me.”
“And ye wounded the Stormseeker?” Matthias pressed, eyes wide.
“Many men—males have underestimated me in the past.”
Issa began to chuckle, then outright laugh, holding her bulging belly. When Matthias saw my confusion, he hurried to explain.
“Lass, no’ many men can claim they can best our chief. Issa is thrilled that she’ll be able to tease her aulder brother.”
“Nay,” she gasped, “Issa is thrilled she has a new friend!”
I shook my head, still not understanding.
“I am his prisoner! I wounded him, but he won—he took me as sacrifice—a tribute!”
Issa slapped the table and laughed harder. Her Mate shot her a disapproving look, then shook his head at me.
“Battleborn of Islay dinnae think like that, Rowena. ‘Tis why I chose to give them my alliance.”
His Mate immediately ceased her laughing and glared at him. “Ye chose my clan because ye chose me.”
“I only found ye because I chose to join yer clan,” he reminded her mildly, then smiled and reached across the table to take her hand.
“I could love ye because ye were honorable, and ye’re that way because yer clan—yer family—is that way.”
I opened my mouth to object—Vrogul did take me as a prisoner—but then slowly closed it as I saw the pair of them share a sweet smile. Again, I wondered how they’d found each other.
Finally, Issa turned to me, still smiling gently.
“I dinnae ken why Vrogul took ye, Rowena. If I had to guess, I doubt even he understands it. Ye gained his respect and the respect of his warriors by besting him. Mayhap that’s why he took ye?”
“Do ye have a Mate back home, lass?” Matthias asked gently, and before I could fully consider the ramifications, I shook my head. The man exhaled in what appeared to be relief. “A family?”
“I have spent the last two years living on the outskirts of a village full of people who wanted naught to do with me, and when I defended them with my life, they were pleased to offer me up as tribute to save their own skin.”
The healer nodded.
“Then mayhap ye might consider finding a new home here, as I have. As so many of us have.”
A new home? Here?
You cannot escape. You have another month afore you can return to your world, even if you could find your way off this island. And what is there to return to?
Naught.
I swallowed.
“I am a prisoner,” I whispered. “An enemy.”
Matthias opened his mouth, but his Mate squeezed his hand to interrupt whatever he’d been about to say. When Issa grinned like that, she looked a little wicked. Like Vrogul.
“Ye are no’ my enemy, Rowena. I’ve always wanted a sister, and I’ve decided ye’re going to do well enough, as long as ye’re here in Battleborn Village. I’m hugely pregnant, ye ken. Ye have to keep me happy.”
The sheer audacity made me snort, but I found myself answering her grin.
“I think I understand what your Mate meant when he said the females run this place.”
“I usually get my way,” she said matter-of-factly as she pushed herself to her feet with a small grunt.
“Which is why ye’re going to go to the hot springs with me. We’re going to soak all this grime off, wash each other’s hair, and I’m going to find a gown that fits yer wee body better than aught I own.”
I found myself looking forward to it.
True to her promise, Issa pampered me all day. We ate well, and by the afternoon, I was clean, comfortable, and wearing the softest blue gown.
“It matches yer eyes,” my hostess declared, stepping back to admire me. “Too bad yer hair doesnae curl. ‘Twould look fetching, all that thick brown draped over one shoulder.”
Self-consciously, I tugged on my long braid.
“It curls when ‘tis shorter. I prefer it shorter, but—”
I swallowed.
“There was a woman in the village who was cast out when I first arrived—unwed and pregnant. The village women said ‘twas her unnatural curls which attracted a demon’s attention.”
Issa clicked her tongue against one tusk and rolled her eyes as she linked her arm through mine.
“Is that no’ disgusting? To blame a female for lust equally shared?”
Since she stood a head taller than me, she winked down at me.
“Ye’ll find, in our world, that desire is no’ a thing to be hidden. Or avoided. We celebrate it.”
Already today I’d seen evidence of such claims—one couple at the hot springs who didn’t seem to mind others could see them, and a female pressed against a wall of a cottage, with a male kneeling under her skirts while she writhed.
The sight had been…educational.
I wasn’t a virgin, but I had been smart enough to hide such information from the villagers who already thought me an outcast. But never had I imagined a male would care enough about a female’s pleasure to do such a thing.
And the fact that no one around me had considered it wicked or depraved made it even more fascinating.
Unbidden, my thoughts had gone to Vrogul.
Had he ever had his head—his mouth—beneath a female’s skirts?
I wondered what those tusks, which had made me shudder when he’d scraped them against my jaw, would feel like against the skin of my inner thigh.
Was his tongue as strangely formed as the rest of him?
These thoughts continued to plague me, much to my chagrin, even after Issa left me alone in Vrogul’s cottage.
“Think of yerself as a guest, Rowena,” she’d called laughingly as she’d abandoned me. “Ye’re among friends now.”
Was I?
Nay, he’d taken me as sacrifice.
Except…
Vrogul had arrived shortly after, backing into the cottage carrying two steaming bowls, with a loaf under one arm. I pressed my back against the wattle and daub wall of his cottage, trying to make myself smaller, as he struggled to place everything on the small table.
“I usually eat communally, but I thought ye might be more comfortable—”
His words broke off when he finally turned and got a good look at me. His gaze flashed down the length of the blue gown then back up again, and something flared in his dark eyes. A green spark, something unexpected.
“Ye look…” His tongue flicked against his tusk. “Clean.”
“A compliment?” To my surprise, the words came out teasingly. “My trews are drying.”
His nod was jerky, and his gaze kept dropping to skim over my body again.
“Ye look… That is good. Ye had a day—a good day? With Issa?”
What was wrong with him? My palms were sweaty, and I ran them down the wool of the gown.
“Aye. She is very kind.”
“She is. Kind, I mean.” He cleared his throat, then scooped up the bowl again.
“I’m going to…”
He backed toward the door.
“Eat. With my warriors.”
He said he usually ate communally, didn’t he? And I’ll admit I was a little relieved not to have to sit across from him during the meal, remembering the way his body had felt atop mine.
Remembering the sinful sights I’d seen today, and the wicked thoughts I’d had about him.
Vrogul’s nostrils flared, and he spun toward the door. But before he stepped out, he cleared his throat.
“The bed. Ye—ye should take it tonight. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
Surprised, I blurted, “‘Tis your bed.”
“Ye have yer knife?”
I pressed my elbow to my side, where the sheath hung from my belt.
“Aye,” I offered hesitantly. “Why?”
“Good. Keep it handy. In case I…”
I saw him swallow, then shake his head and reach for the door.
“Good night, Rowena. Sleep well.”
The door slammed behind him, leaving me with a fragrant-smelling dinner and more questions.
Sleep well? I doubted I’d be able to sleep at all!