Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
D espite the heated and rather sinful understanding we’d just come to, I was still surprised when, once back at the cabin, Bikkar tied another length of rope to the one binding my wrists together. He’d at least waited until we’d both cleaned up in his washroom before doing so. But then he led me over to his bed and tied that new length of rope around his wrist.
“Bikkar,” I said as I watched him tie the final knot. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Bikkar grunted in response. He sat his hulking form heavily on the bed and then rolled onto his side and closed his eyes. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you.” He pulled tight on the rope until I was on the bed with him. “We will sleep. The day has been long already.”
A fight. Two chases. Sex. I could understand. But the fact that he’d leave himself this vulnerable to me, and me the chance to escape, felt odd. I didn’t intend to leave now. But he must not have thought so. Which, fair enough. I hadn’t exactly respected his orc tradition and hospitality so far.
“Okay.” I settled in next to him—not that I really had a choice. The leash connecting me to him wasn’t all that long, and it was either sit awkwardly on the floor or lie beside Bikkar. I’d just learned being pressed against him wasn’t as bad a thing as I might’ve thought this morning.
But I didn’t sleep. Being this close to him still sent more thrilling fantasies playing through my mind. My memory replayed the entire encounter again and again, from the moment I’d escaped this cabin to the final thrust of Bikkar’s hips. Gods. If my party of mercenaries knew what I’d been up to while they’d run for their lives, they’d never let me live it down. But thoughts of them sent questions running through my mind. What would happen tomorrow after sunrise? Would Bikkar still turn me in to Caiburn at this point? Would my friends be waiting for me there? Would I spend the next few years in prison?
Bikkar rolled onto his side at the exact moment the question came to mind. He wrapped an arm around me as if he’d heard the thought. His hold was an immediate and all-consuming warmth. The feeling of his arm at my hip was becoming all too familiar, but I wasn’t complaining.
Bikkar groaned, a sound pouring from his throat. I turned over to make sure it wasn’t pain—maybe I’d hurt him more in the fight this morning than he’d let on. The concern for him—genuine as it was—surprised me nearly as much as his comfort in falling asleep right now so close to someone who could, maybe, kill him to free herself.
“Kendra,” he said in his sleep.
I froze, my heart in my throat. Bikkar’s brows were pressed together in concertation or pain. The name didn’t sound familiar, but then again, I was only well acquainted with those who traveled most frequently with Bikkar.
“Kendra.”
This time, it was more of a plea. A sadness as his expression in sleep darkened.
Answers fell heavily into place around me. Guilt sank my stomach.
It was someone Bikkar had lost. A love. A family member. Someone close to him.
Likely in battle. Likely to my party or someone like us. Mercenaries out for work and coin, with admittedly little regard for context or truths.
That was, after all, what had gotten me into this mess today.
The realization cut off any more fantasies or sinful wishes. There was only this left.
Guilt. Shame. And the truth.
I did deserve punishment from the law. Actual justice, not Bikkar’s carnal lust. And tomorrow, when Yule was over, Bikkar would bring me to face it.
That was all that could be, and it was foolish to think this rivalry between my party and his tribe would end any other way.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered as I turned away from him again. “I’m sorry for all of it.”