Chapter Twenty-One
Restored
Aaron didn’t believe it—Kara—here—a hallucination brought on by thirst and sleep deprivation.
But Erling’s scream jolted him out of his half-daze.
The bastard teetered, then nearly fell over before he regained control of his legs.
Aaron watched with panic as he lurched at his wife, the knife still lodged in his neck.
“Bitch,” Erling screamed, reaching for her. “You’ve saved me the trouble of finding you.”
Kara spun out of his grasp.
“Kara,” Aaron yelled. “Run.” His jaw clenched—goddamnit.
She didn’t hear him. He fisted his hands and threw his head back.
Erling would never touch her again. Never.
His whole body convulsed. Then, with one last desperate attempt, after hours of working the bindings, his hands ripped free.
He instantly dropped to his knees, then scraped a hand over his face to wipe away the sweat and tears.
Cursing his own weakness, Aaron rocked back on his heels.
Find the strength to get up. He gazed ahead.
Erling’s fevered stare sent waves of fear through him.
Although Kara tried to maneuver around him, Erling barreled toward her, uttering threats of violence. “I’ll kill you.”
Then she tripped. Erling laughed savagely, bent down, gripped her by the throat, and dragged her to her feet.
Aaron’s desire for vengeance carried him like wings. He reached Erling in three strides, grabbed a fistful of his hair from behind, forcing his head back. “Let go of my wife, now.” He wouldn’t say it again. Erling sputtered and let her go.
She scrambled away.
Then Aaron released a primal scream, the world around him melting away.
He slammed Erling to the ground, straddling his chest. Erling sucked in air, clawing at Aaron’s face.
His mouth twisted as he ripped the knife from Erling’s flesh.
Aaron shoved the bloodstained blade under Erling’s nose. “Lick bladet rent.”
Erling’s eyes grew wide in disbelief. But he opened his mouth and licked his own blood off the steel. He gagged as he swallowed. Aaron grinned and threw the dagger aside. “You enjoy the taste of your own flesh and blood.”
Erling’s torso bucked underneath him and Aaron responded by pressing his elbow into his throat.
He applied just enough pressure to deprive the bastard of half the air he needed to take a full breath.
Erling stared up at him in surprise, his eyes bulging and red.
“I don’t want you to stare at me, close your eyes. ”
Erling did as he was told.
Spurred by the hatred swelling inside, Aaron shifted, pressing his thumbs into Erling’s eye sockets until he heard two, simultaneous pops.
Erling writhed and kicked and screamed. Blood poured from the corners of his eyes.
Final judgment—guilty of kidnapping, torture, cruelty, murder, and incest. Sentence—death by the hands of a husband who loves his wife more than anything above or below the heavens.
“Put me out of my misery,” Erling begged, flopping around like a fish out of water.
Aaron rose, glaring down at him. “Kara.” He turned, eyeing his silent bride standing a few feet away.
She approached slowly, her gaze never leaving Erling’s form.
“I leave final judgment to you. This man pleads for mercy.”
Her gaze swept the ground. When she spotted what she was looking for, she walked over to the knife and scooped it up. She returned to Aaron’s side, offering him the weapon. “Silence him forever.”
Aaron took the blade and drove it through Erling’s black heart.
Shivering with fear over her husband’s poor condition, Kara reached for his hand.
When he turned, the look on his face told her what she needed to know.
His arms, chest, and neck were covered with bruises and scratches.
And the blood? She wanted him to remove his tunic so she could examine his body.
But not here. Where were Erling’s guards?
“Aaron,” she said. “We need to leave this place.”
“We’re safe,” he assured her. “Two of his men are sleeping off hangovers. The others are on patrol west of here, likely searching for you.” He hugged her to his chest, his heart thundering against her cheek.
“Why vakker kriger, why did you risk everything to find me?” He tilted her chin upward and ran his thumb along her jawline.
“I begged you stay, you promised me.” His knees buckled.
“Aaron?” She propped him up as best she could. Didn’t he know how much she loved him? That she’d give her life for him?
“Thirsty and hungry,” he explained. “My weapon belt is hanging in the trees over there.” He pointed.
“I’ll fetch it,” she said, loosening her grip. “Stay here.”
“No,” he said sharply. “Together.” He wrapped his arm about her waist and they walked toward the trees.
When they reached the branch, a noise from inside one of the tents startled them.
Aaron pulled his sword, then whirled around, pushing Kara behind him.
A man emerged from the middle shelter, his expression a mix of surprise and fear.
As soon as he recognized Aaron, he raised his hands over his head in surrender.
“Erling Solheim is dead,” Aaron said. “Do you wish to follow in his footsteps?”
“No, milord,” he croaked.
“Then get back inside your tent and don’t come out until the sun sets.”
The man nodded and disappeared.
Aaron stared overhead, dark clouds were gathering. Thunder rumbled in the distance. “The gods send a storm to wash all this filth away.”
She wanted to take him in her arms and kiss him.
But she knew he was barely hanging on and needed sustenance and rest. What injuries were hidden by his clothes?
She stumbled to his horse a few yards away and retrieved his water skin.
She gave it a firm shake—nearly full. Rushing back to him, she pressed it into his hand with urgency. “Drink.”
He opened it, then drank insatiably. He reached over and grasped her shoulder. “Thank you.”
She eyed his graceful form. As shaky and bloody as he appeared, she knew what gathered below the surface. The glint in his eyes reflected well the fierce beast inside him. She’d witnessed firsthand what destructive forces drove him. “Tis I, who owe you a world of gratitude and favor.”
He dropped the water skin on the ground and latched onto her arms. “Do you know what slow death you saved me from?”
Horrified by the thought, she preferred not to know. “Home,” she whispered. The effort of talking made her feel sick to her stomach now. All this violence. All this death. She wanted none of it. Her husband needed food and rest. And after he recovered, love.
A few minutes later, both mounted, Kara and Aaron headed westward, back to Jarl Sigurdsson’s steading.