Chapter 37
Raye’s request splashed into the silence, rippling out loud and harsh through the room.
She’d just asked Kalfr to take her, in public.
She’d asked him that, here, before all these watching strangers.
And now — a helpless hope flared behind her eyes — maybe Kalfr would refuse.
Maybe he would laugh it off, or wave it away, or say they needed to head back to the byrgi.
Maybe he would say, another day, next time…
But instead, he just… looked at her. Looked at her, with his dark long-lashed eyes, still not betraying a trace of his thoughts behind them.
Not saying yes, but not saying no, either.
And when Raye shot a searching look at Silfast, that was impatience in his beady gaze on hers, and maybe a command, too.
Saying, perhaps, Is that all you can do, woman? Prove this.
Raye closed her eyes for a breath, clawed up the dregs of her courage, and then moved her shaky hand to the sash of her lovely new dress.
“Please, Kalfr,” she whispered again, as she tugged at the sash with her fingers.
“Please, allow me to” — gods, what had Silfast said?
— “to milk you, together with your ástvinur. To — anoint this altar with your fresh Bautul seed, before all your kin.”
Kalfr’s expression hadn’t changed, apart from a brief glance down toward her trembling hand, and Raye looked helplessly toward Gaelfr.
He was supposed to be part of this too, damn it, and — oh.
He… liked this. He approved of this. He had to, with that warmth and triumph glittering in his eyes, and he leaned closer into Kalfr, and took a deep inhale against his throat.
It was enough that Raye could gulp down a breath too, and she forced her hand to keep going. To keep pulling at her sash until her dress fell open in front, and revealed the close-fitting lacy black chemise she was wearing beneath.
Kalfr’s eyes widened at the sight, and then flicked toward Gaelfr, who was now nibbling gently at his neck. “Ach, I have dressed our mate for you, ástin mín,” he murmured. “What do you say? Shall you allow her to seek your pleasure and your blessing with me, upon this altar?”
Kalfr’s eyes fluttered, his head slightly arching back, while Raye waited, her heartbeat ringing in her ears.
Was this part of the test, too, or even another punishment?
Making her stand here, trembling and exposed, before all their kin, while Kalfr took his time deciding whether he would deign to allow her to touch him? In public?
But finally, finally, Kalfr twitched a shrug, and a curt nod. “Ach, then,” he replied. “She can try.”
She can try. It stung hot and humiliating in Raye’s cheeks, pitching low and painful in her belly.
Right. Of course Kalfr didn’t want her, of course he didn’t care, because he…
he still hated her, didn’t he? For everything she’d done to him, and to Svein?
And how had she forgotten that? How could she have begun to imagine anything else, especially considering the things he’d done with her, these past days? Worse than you…
It took all Raye’s strength to nod, to keep the misery from showing on her face — until her eyes caught Gaelfr’s again.
He was smiling at her, gentle and encouraging, without a trace of his usual challenge or command — and next he angled an intent look sideways, toward Silfast. Making sure Raye would look, too, and see…
Oh. Silfast’s harsh face was surprised, and grudgingly approving, too.
As if he was pleased by this. He wanted to see Kalfr commanding Raye, punishing her — and maybe, maybe Kalfr knew that too.
Maybe this entire scene was just part of him gaining that war-band, and keeping her and Svein safe.
He needed to show his power over her, needed to prove she wouldn’t betray him or his kin.
It was something to cling to, another sliver of courage in the mire, and Raye’s shaky hand caught at Kalfr’s fingers, and tugged him toward the now-empty altar.
One of the orcs was spreading what appeared to be a soft, clean-looking fur upon it, and when he caught Raye’s eye, he flashed her a quick, genuine-seeming grin.
As if he approved of her actions here, too. As if he wanted this for Kalfr.
Raye’s glance around at the other watching faces found them with similar expressions — warmth, curiosity, encouragement.
Not at all with the mockery or hatred or glee she might have expected, and maybe…
maybe this was really meant to be a good thing, for her.
Maybe this was really a chance to prove herself, to gain the clan’s support and forgiveness, and to help Kalfr, too.
But even so, by the time Raye was standing beside the altar with Kalfr, her legs were trembling, her eyes blankly catching on the new fur, on the way the light from the nearby fire flickered and danced upon it.
Gods, how was she supposed to do this? Where was she supposed to start?
Would Kalfr mock her, or ignore her, or refuse?
But then… Gaelfr. Gaelfr, thank fuck, nudging her forward onto her knees on the altar, and guiding Kalfr onto it, too. And maybe that meant he would take charge of everything else, too…
“Lie him down, woman,” came Gaelfr’s voice, low in her ear. “Treat him as the powerful voreur he is. As one whose favour you long to gain.”
Gods damn it. They were still putting it all on her, then, but maybe — Raye shot a furtive look toward where Silfast was still watching — maybe they needed to. She needed to. She could do this.
So with a tentative twitch of her hands, she found Kalfr’s chest, and eased him down and backwards.
And thank the gods, he didn’t resist, and accordingly sank onto his back on the fur.
His body looking surprisingly tall, suddenly, his bare chest rising and falling, his eyes flickering in the firelight.
Raye swallowed as she watched, as something like longing, or maybe grief, clutched deep in her chest. Her mate. The father of her son. The one she’d hurt and banished. She wanted to show him, and honour him. She wanted to touch him, and please him. She wanted to prove this, and do this.
She only scarcely felt Gaelfr’s purposeful nudge behind her this time, because she was already moving closer to Kalfr. Sinking onto her heels beside his tall waiting body, so she could move her hands, and… touch him. Touch his warm, heaving bare chest, its skin slightly clammy beneath her fingers.
But he hadn’t refused it, his eyes holding on her face, so Raye spread her fingers wider, and stroked downwards. Down over the jut of his ribs, the hard ridges of his abdomen, the cut of his hips, before sliding back up again. Just… feeling him again, after so long. Learning him again.
He’d liked being touched, Raye remembered now, and without warning, a memory flared up from years ago.
A night a month or two after they’d met, when he’d turned up at her door shaky and sweaty, his eyes unnaturally wide.
And after Raye had fed him a hearty meal, she’d set him down and touched him, caressed and massaged his stiff body all over, until he’d been calm and steady again.
And then he’d kissed her so gently as he’d turned her onto her back, and filled her with his pleasure and gratitude.
And Raye could keep thinking about that, as she touched him.
Could hold it close and safe as her hands skimmed over his bobbing throat, and began massaging his stiff shoulders.
Until she could feel the tension easing, fading, just like before, and she might have even smiled at him as she slid her hands downward again.
And though Kalfr’s expression hadn’t changed, his watching eyes still carefully inscrutable in the firelight, Raye could feel the change in the air. Yes, he wanted this. He wanted her to touch him, to please him.
Behind her, Gaelfr hadn’t spoken again, and hadn’t touched her or Kalfr, either — perhaps still wanting Raye to do this, to lead this.
But now his hand slipped around her, and began tugging purposefully at her dress.
It was still hanging open in front, revealing that clingy black lace beneath, while still giving her some coverage, too.
But not now, not anymore, because Gaelfr was easing the dress fully from her shoulders, and Raye was…
allowing it. Allowing him to reveal her body clad in only the hip-length chemise, her arms and shoulders fully bare, her curves filling out the black silk.
She did look rather curvier than before, she vaguely noticed, her breasts and thighs fuller, her belly softer.
And once Gaelfr had set aside the dress, he made a show of caressing his hands against her belly, possessive and approving.
As if he was proud of his efforts to feed her and fatten her.
As if he was showing off his handiwork for Kalfr’s approval and appreciation.
It was ridiculous, surely, but Kalfr kept watching, and if Raye wasn’t mistaken, that was a twitch in his still-tied trousers.
She’d been carefully avoiding his trousers so far, but the front now looked noticeably fuller than before, and Gaelfr’s hand nudged against her elbow, guiding her hand closer.
Saying, as clearly as if he’d spoken it aloud, Touch him. Undress him.
It helped, and Raye wanted to keep touching Kalfr, too.
Wanted to skim her hands down over that hard, tantalizing bulge in his trousers, to feel it swell and vibrate beneath her touch.
To know he wanted this, he wanted her, and Raye’s tongue brushed her lips as she pulled his trousers apart, drawing them downwards. Revealing…