by Connie Mason
A head poked through the curtain, then Maida walked into the small chamber. “How do you feel, daughter?”
“My arm hurts but ’tis bearable, and I am a bit lightheaded.”
“ ’tis no wonder. Though the wound is shallow and should heal quickly, you lost a great deal of blood. I am brewing an herbal tea to fight infection. I will bring it as soon as it is steeped. Make sure you drink it all.”
“What about Wulf the Ruthless? Is he well?”
“You mean Wulf the Defender,” Maida said, smiling.
Reyna’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “Are we talking about the same man?”
“Aye, your father gave Wulf a more appropriate name and freed him. He is no longer being held for ransom.”
Panic seized Reyna. “Is Wulf leaving?”
“Aye, he will leave, but not until spring. There is something else you should know.” Reyna’s attention sharpened. “Your brother said Ragnar intends to ask you to wed him. That he regrets being harsh with you.”
“I do not want Ragnar.”
“Wedding Ragnar is for the best, daughter. Wulf is not the man for you. Come spring, he will leave and eventually wed one of his own kind. Consider Ragnar’s proposal carefully while you are confined to your bed.”
Two days later Reyna was out of bed and joining the family for meals. Due to Maida’s healing skills, Reyna remained free of infection and fever. She still favored her wounded arm but that was to be expected. Much to Reyna’s chagrin, she had no time alone with Wulf. Her brothers were always underfoot, as if guarding her from Wulf’s attentions.
The following days were spent smoking meats for winter consumption, gathering rushes and performing other chores necessary to get them through the winter. The men visited the cottages occupied by kraalls and their families, providing them with the necessities they lacked to see them through the winter months.
Wulf went out with the hunters nearly every day to see to the traps they had set, and one day he sent his spear through the heart of a deer. He carried it home, to the delight of everyone. Venison was tasty and highly valued.
One evening Wulf and Reyna finally found themselves alone after the family had sought their beds.
“How is your arm?” Wulf asked solicitously.
“Nearly back to normal except for some pain when I raise it above my head. That too will pass in time.”
“You will probably bear the scar for life.”
Reyna shrugged. “It matters not. How does being a free man feel?”
“My mind and heart have always been free.” He searched her face. “I miss you, Reyna.”
“I have not left, Wulf. I am here.”
“Not where I want you.” Very gently he cupped her shoulders and brought her into his arms. “This is where I want you. Do you know how frightened I was when I saw you fall? You could have been killed.”
“But I wasn’t. Instead I am here, in your arms.”
“I am surprised your brothers left us alone.”
“They expect me to wed Ragnar.”
“Will you?”
“No, not if he were the last man on this earth.”
“Come with me to the stillroom,” Wulf whispered. “Be with me to night. I have a feeling your parents will not let you refuse Ragnar.”
Reyna was tempted. She had no intention of wedding Ragnar, no matter how persuasively her parents argued for the match. She wondered what inducement her brothers had offered him to wed her. It mattered not; nothing would convince her to become Ragnar’s wife.
“What say you, Reyna? Will you come to my bed to-night?”
How could Reyna refuse such an invitation? She wanted to be with Wulf again before he left her forever.
“Wait here while I get my cloak.”
Reyna returned shortly, wrapped in her fur cloak. She preceded Wulf to the door, uncaring that someone might be watching. She opened the door, but before she could step outside, Wulf swept her into his arms, closed the door behind them and strode through the cold air to his hut.
“ ’tis snowing,” Reyna said, catching large, wet snowflakes on the tip of her tongue. “I wonder if Ragnar…”
“Forget Ragnar,” Wulf ordered. “This night is for us.”
When they reached the stillroom, Wulf opened the door, stepped inside and kicked the door shut. Then he set Reyna down on her feet.
“Keep your cloak on while I build up the fire.”
Reyna sat on the bed, her gaze wandering over Wulf’s body, watching the play of muscles in his legs and buttocks as he bent to his task. His leather-covered legs were sturdy as twin oaks, his buttocks taut. If any fat existed on Wulf’s virile body, she had yet to see it.
The fire caught; light filled the hut. Wulf watched the shooting flames a moment, then turned toward Reyna, his face taut with desire. His eyes never left hers as he shed his jacket and tunic and beckoned to her.
Reyna stood, threw off her cloak and walked into his arms. It felt like coming home. How could she wed a man who was not Wulf? The question went unanswered as Wulf lowered his mouth to hers, his tongue thrusting between her lips to taste her. She returned his kiss eagerly, stretching on her toes to meld her body to his.
She clung to him sweetly, wildly, yielding her heart and soul to him, if only for this one night. Making love with Wulf might mean nothing to him but sex, but it meant a great deal more to Reyna. Their mouths were still joined as he slowly undressed her, his large hands roving over her body. Then he laid her down on the bed of furs.
Reyna felt his loss when he left her to remove his own clothing. Her gaze roamed over him slowly, checking his body for bruises or wounds sustained in the raid. She saw a few minor cuts already healing and a large bruise on his left hip. When he knelt on the pallet, she caressed his bruised hip.
He trembled beneath her touch. Her hand slid down his thigh. He grew hard as a rock. Her gaze moved to his erection; her fingers followed. He groaned. Her touch was pure torture. When her fingers slid up and down his sex, he jerked and cried out.
A wildness seized them both. Her hands were everywhere on him, caressing, grasping. His mouth devoured her, laving her breasts with his tongue, suckling her nipples. He kissed his way down her body. She writhed, grasping his head. He stroked into her cleft and caressed the sensitive petals. She raised her hips to meet his touch.
Then he lifted her legs to his shoulders and lost himself in the musky sweetness of her scent. She writhed, she cried out, arching into each flick of his tongue. Then suddenly she grasped his shoulders and pushed him away. Startled, he gazed up at her, his lips glistening with the evidence of her arousal.
“Lie down,” she whispered. “I want to taste you.”
Wulf’s heart began to pound. Did she mean what he thought she meant? Eager to find out, he stretched out on the furs and waited, his breath locked in his chest. She gazed at him a long moment before her tongue flicked out, lapping up a dewy pearl at the tip of his sex. Wulf nearly jumped out of his skin.
Reyna reared back. “Am I hurting you?”
“Nay, do not stop.”
His words spurred her on. She grew more aggressive, taking him fully into her mouth as her questing fingers sought the sacs below and squeezed them. Somehow he found the strength to watch her. Her pale hair, spread out over his stomach and thighs made the muscles of his stomach clench. Then his thoughts shattered as she licked down the rigid length of his cock and back over the tip.
Several heartbeats later, Wulf could take no more. “Enough!” He barely got the word out. Grasping her waist, he dragged her on top of him, spread her thighs to straddle him and thrust upward, impaling her. He watched her closely. Her eyes sparkled like emeralds, full of mysterious facets and sparks in the flickering firelight.
Lust roiled through Wulf. He was hot, so very hot. He couldn’t think beyond satisfying the painful demand of his loins. He withdrew nearly all the way. Reyna made a mew of protest. He thrust again, hard and deep. Her breasts, lush and swollen, rose and fel
l provocatively before his face. He caught a nipple in his mouth. Reyna was his; no other man deserved her. The thought that Ragnar might have the right to bed this majestic woman made him furious. Could he stop the match? Would he?
Wulf thrust wildly into her hot center, and then he reached down between them to rub her sensitive nub, already erect and throbbing. She rose and fell upon him unceasingly, taking him deep, her inner muscles caressing his rigid length.
She rode him to ecstasy. When he felt her body spasm and begin its rise to glory, he pressed his fingers hard against the tight knot of flesh between her thighs and felt her body explode beneath his touch. Her climax set off his own. They came together, their cries filling the silence around them. A long time passed before Wulf lifted her off of him. When he turned his head to look into her sweet face, her eyes were closed and she was smiling.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
She rolled toward him. “Take me with you when you return to your farmstead.”
“Do you mean that?”
She looked away, her lip caught between her teeth. “I don’t know.”
“Would you really leave your family after all they risked to bring you home?”
“Mayhap. Would you promise to wed me and remain faithful?”
Wulf sat up, his expression unreadable. “You want us to wed?” He held up his hand. “No, do not answer. You must know I cannot wed you.”
Raw pain pierced her. “Why? Is it because I am a Dane?”
“Wedding a Dane would dishonor Astrid’s memory.”
Reyna’s stomach clenched. “Astrid has been dead two summers and longer. You must have loved her dearly.”
Now it was Wulf’s turn to look away. “Astrid and I were well suited. She carried my child.”
“Life goes on, Wulf. You above anyone should know that.”
“I have spent two years of my life avenging her death.”
“ ’tis past time to let it go.”
“Will you be my mistress? We can live together in my hall and I will make sure everyone treats you with respect.”
Reyna shook her head. She wanted more than Wulf offered. “No, never! I could not bear it. If Ragnar still wants me, I will wed him,” she lied.
“You will not wed Ragnar,” Wulf roared.
“You have no say over my life, Wulf. Wed me or let me go.”
Wulf was torn. Thor’s hammer, what was he to do? Could he wed a Dane after what her countrymen had done to Astrid and his aunt? How could he ever forget what he had been told about the raid? Astrid had tried to run but the size of their babe in her belly hindered her. She had been caught, raped, and left to die in the dirt, her belly ripped open.
He violently shook the image from his mind, fearing that it would never leave him. But what was he to do about Reyna? Could he wed her with hatred for Danes still alive in his heart? True, he had become friendly with her family and had killed Hakkon, the man responsible for the raid that had killed Astrid and his aunt, but his enmity toward most Danes was as strong as ever.
“Wulf, what are you thinking?”
“I want you as my mistress. And in time, when Astrid’s memory fades, mayhap I will feel different about making you my wife.”
“I am in your bed, Wulf. We made love to night, and not for the first time. Have you no guilt?”
“We give each other pleasure. There is no guilt in that.”
Reyna shoved him so hard that he rolled off the narrow pallet onto the cold floor. Then she leapt to her feet and struggled into her clothes.
“Where are you going? The night is still young.”
“The night is over for us, Wulf the Ruthless, and all the nights to come until you leave our shores.”
“My name is Wulf the Defender, remember?”
She pulled on her cloak and rounded on him. “My family got it wrong. You are still Wulf the Ruthless to me. What you did for them was completely out of character for a Norseman.”
So saying, she turned and stormed out the door. Groaning, Wulf rolled onto the pallet and pulled the furs up to his neck.
Why did Reyna have to bring up marriage? Everything was going so well between them. He had no reservations about making her his mistress. They were good together in bed and compatible in other ways. The more he thought about never seeing Reyna again, the more he began to questions his feelings for her.
Did his hatred for Danes prevent him from wedding Reyna? Was he mad to let her go? With his mind in turmoil, Wulf surrendered to sleep.
Wulf awoke later than usual the next morning. He didn’t hurry to the hall to break his fast but spent time in the steam hut first. Borg joined him and they spoke of various things that had nothing to do with Wulf and Reyna. When he finally arrived in the hall, Reyna was nowhere in sight.
The thralls set food before him and Borg. Wulf was hungry and ate with relish, waiting for Reyna to appear from her sleeping alcove. Normally she was an early riser. Maida sat down to join them.
“Is Reyna being a slug-a-bed this morning?” Wulf asked.
“Reyna left with Ragnar a short time ago to visit his family. They are expected to return by nightfall.”
“Alone? When did Ragnar arrive?” Wulf asked with a calmness that belied his inner furor. What was she thinking to go off alone with Ragnar?
Maida gave him a puzzled look. “Dag is with them. Besides, Ragnar is Reyna’s friend and possibly a husband-to-be. Why should she be afraid to be alone with him?”
“Has she decided to wed him, then?”
“I do not know. They spoke in private before they left, but I have no knowledge of their conversation. Nor did I refuse her permission to visit Ragnar’s family. The distance is not so great that they cannot return by nightfall.”
Wulf glanced out the window. “The weather looks threatening.”
Maida shrugged. “Reyna and Dag will be welcome to spend the night in Ragnar’s hall. She is well loved by his family.”
“Where is Ragnar’s farmstead located?”
Borg sent Wulf an assessing look, but Maida apparently saw no harm in divulging that information.
“Ragnar’s farmstead lies but a short distance to the west. About a two-hour walk from here.”
Wulf nodded, finished his breakfast and rose. “I am going hunting.”
“I planned to spend the day in the smoke house, else I would accompany you,” Borg said.
Wulf left the hall and went directly to the stillroom for his weapons. He strapped on a sword, pushed a battle-axe beneath his belt, pulled a wolf pelt over his shoulders for added warmth and picked up his spear. Once he was armed for what ever danger he might encounter, he left the stillroom and headed west at a brisk pace. If he were lucky, he would catch up with Reyna.
Reyna had no idea why she had agreed to accompany Ragnar to his hall. She supposed she was angry enough at Wulf to want to spite him. How dare Wulf refuse to wed her after leading her to believe he cared for her! Did he think so little of her that he believed he could bed her and leave her without a care for her feelings?
Worse yet, he had asked her to be his mistress. What gall! What arrogance! Better she wed Ragnar, she thought, than become mistress to a man who could bed her with impunity but refuse to wed her because she was a Dane.
They hadn’t walked far when Dag stepped into a rabbit hole that had been covered with a fresh layer of snow. He fell heavily to the ground, twisting his ankle.
Reyna dropped to her knees beside him. “How badly are you hurt, Dag?”
Dag shrugged. “ ’tis naught but a turned ankle.”
“Shall I find you a sturdy limb to lean upon?” Ragnar asked.
Reyna helped him to his feet. “Aye, that would be helpful.”
Ragnar hurried off while Dag tested his ankle. “Try to put weight on it,” Reyna said.
Dag’s ankle refused to hold him up. Apparently the injury was more serious than he’d thought.
“Sit on that fallen log and remove your boot so I can look at it,”
Reyna said.
Dag shook his head. “Not a good idea, Reyna. If I take off my boot, I might not be able to put it back on and my foot will freeze.”
Ragnar returned with a sturdy limb. “This should do,” he said.
“Since our farmstead is closer than Ragnar’s, we should return home,” Reyna advised. “I need to take care of that ankle.”
Supported by the limb, Dag found he could stand and even walk, albeit slowly. “I am capable of hobbling home, no need for you to return. Mother can take care of me without your help.” He glanced at Ragnar. “I trust Ragnar to see you safely to his hall.”
“I will protect Reyna,” Ragnar bragged. “Return home, Dag. You look like you are in pain.”
“I cannot let you return home alone, Dag,” Reyna protested.
“I am a warrior, Reyna, armed and capable of defending myself. Go with Ragnar. You two have a great deal to talk about.”
With a jaunty wave of his hand, Dag limped off in the direction from which they’d come.
Frowning, Reyna said, “I do not like it.”
“There is naught to fear, Reyna. Hakkon is dead; he cannot hurt you or your family.”
Reluctantly Reyna turned and trudged after Ragnar. Ragnar’s land was more than an hour away on the shores of a branch of Limfjorden Fjord.
As they continued along, making their way across the wet snow, Reyna felt a strange prickling sensation on the back of her neck. W ere they being watched? Glancing about, she saw nothing to arouse suspicion. The trees bordering the path they followed were bare of leaves and the shrubbery withered.
“Ragnar,” Reyna began, “I have a strange feeling that we are being watched.”
Ragnar looked around him. “There is naught to be frightened of, Reyna. I am glad you decided to accompany me instead of returning with Dag. This gives us a chance to be alone. I have something to ask you.”
Reyna feared she knew what was coming, but she had no idea what she would say if Ragnar asked her to wed him. She had no reason to reject him, not after Wulf had tossed her aside. Wulf didn’t want her because she was a Dane. It was just as well, she told herself, for she couldn’t bear to be with a man whose mind was consumed with his dead wife.