Beowulf's Claim (Viking Warriors Book 3)

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Beowulf's Claim (Viking Warriors Book 3) Page 11

by Jessica Knight


  “Is that why Beowulf isn’t here? Is it something to do with the Jackals?”

  He stops tying the logs for a moment and takes a curious glance at me. “No one knows why they left. I’m assuming Lady Sassa knows, but she won’t say a word if Lord Grimkael asked her not to.”

  My hopes deflate so much my shoulders sag. “Oh. Right, of course.” I push a piece of hair behind my ear and sit on one of the steps.

  Where are you, Beowulf?

  Abram kneels in front of me and takes my hand in his. Already, his young hands are coarse with callouses, and his nails are filthy, showing true grit. “I do not know much about you and Wulf.”

  Oh, I can’t stand it when people call him Wulf. It makes him sound like an animal.

  “But he is the most capable of all of our warriors. He and Trident are the best. He shall be fine.”

  “Everyone always meets their match,” I mutter.

  “Wulf already has. It’s Trident,” he says with confidence.

  “Right.”

  Abram leaves me to take a sip of his tea and gives me a reassuring smile before working on the door again. I want to believe him. I want to believe Abram, more than anything in this world, but I’ve seen the worst of what the Jackals have to offer me. There is someone there to watch out for, and that scares me more than anything.

  “Please, come home soon,” I beg to Beowulf in my heart. There’s so much I want to tell him, that I need to tell him, but he needs to get here safe in order for me to do that.

  “I’m going to go for a walk. Is that okay? It’s good for me to build my strength back up.”

  He stands straight and drops the log he is working with. “Do you need my assistance, Lilith? I know Wulf helped you—”

  “I’m fine. I promise. It’s just a quick walk.” I need to clear my head and rehearse what I want to say to Beowulf. I do not like that Abram thinks I always need help. I know I can be headstrong, but I’m independent. I must know that I’m able to care for myself after everything that’s happened. It’s important to me. I do not need my hand held every step of the way.

  “Aye. Well, if you aren’t back by time I finish the door, I shall come looking for you.”

  “Deal. There is more tea inside. Help yourself.” I point to the kitchen and start to weave through the woods to get to the trail.

  I clasp my hands together and tune in to the nature surrounding me. I’m not going to be able to walk outside much longer before it is too cold. I’ll have to take my walks in the castle. I already feel a difference within myself. I’m stronger. I do not sleep as much, and I’m happier. I’ve been in the mindset to be more forgiving too, not just with myself but with others. My mind is starting to get healthy again, and I want to keep it that way.

  Even with the chill in the air and the snow on the ground, the sun is out, and it feels wonderful. It takes my mind off Beowulf and my lack of memories. I’m in the moment, just… being. I can smell the snow, hear the trees swaying the slight breeze, and the tall grass on either side of the trail rub together.

  It’s beautiful, and it does my spirit just right because I feel better already. Being cooped up all day around the man you’ve known for years, yet at the same time, only days, can really mess with a woman’s mind.

  I’m looking down, watching my every step. I’m lost in thought, and soon find myself nose to chest with a stranger. His arm wraps around me to keep me from falling. I yelp as the bone of my hip collides with his sword. I don’t like it. His arms are not comforting like Beowulf’s.

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going,” he says.

  When I finally meet his stare, I notice the gray eyes staring at me with desire and not concern.

  “Um, it’s fine. I was just leaving.” I try and wiggle my way free of his grasp, but his fingers tighten around my mid-section, biting into my skin.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he sneers, breathing his foul breath on my lips.

  My heart hammers in wild abandon in my chest when I realize I’m trapped with nowhere to go. I look around for a weapon but see none I can reach.

  What am I going to do? I try and push him away.

  “Get off me!” I scream, but my weak budges hardly do anything to his massive figure.

  His hand roams lower, almost to the curve of my ass, and on instinct, I lift my fist, pull it back, and throw it in the air. My knuckles smack right against his nose, and blood starts to gush. I start to laugh uncontrollably. Oh my goddess, I can’t believe I just did that.

  “You fucking bitch!” he snarls, touching the blood flowing down his lips. He spits red onto the ground and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’ll pay for that.”

  “Oh, shite,” I yelp, lunging away from his attempt to grab me again. I run, sprinting down the trail to get to the castle, but my endurance is weak. My lungs burn. Everything is starting to hurt. The pain from his sword knocking against my hip makes me scream when it starts throbbing again. His armor clinks together, and the louder it gets, the closer he is. He is catching up.

  I let out a scream. I must let someone know where I am. That I need help.

  Suddenly, I hear a loud thud against the ground. I swear I can hear the crack of a few ribs from where I’m standing. Taking a chance, I peek over my shoulder to see who I have to thank for saving me from that vile man.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Beowulf

  I’ve had a hell of a week. I’ve gotten pulled out of a burning home, I’ve had to give my own brother a fucking funeral, and I can’t seem to find my nephew anywhere. The last thing I expected when I came home was to find Argent coming after my fucking woman with blood pouring down his face.

  Argent is groaning, holding one hand over his nose and the other against his ribs. I probably broke a few when I tackled him to the ground. This man is a piece of shit blacksmith in the village. He is arrogant. He thinks because he makes the armor and the swords for the warriors and the Lord, he can do whatever he wishes.

  I bend down and grab him by his blouse, lifting him off the ground half-way. He is wheezing, struggling to breathe through the pain. When I think about what he planned on doing to Lilith, I lift him off the ground and toss him a good fifteen feet before stomping my way to his side, pressing my foot against his ribs. He cries out, begging me to stop, but I don’t until I hear another bone crack.

  I won’t stop until every bone is broken.

  “You bastard. You think you can lay a hand on her?” I kick him in his side, and he throws up on the ground. It reeks of pure mead and beer. “You think you have the right?” I bend down and lift him up again.

  “She’s fucking mine,” I whisper, and I don’t miss the shiver of fear that trembles through his body.

  “I’m sorry, Sir Wulf. I didn’t know.” He holds up his hands, blood coating his palms. He looks so pathetic, begging for me not to hurt him anymore. His greasy hair, dirty face and black teeth. He’s disgusting. A parasite. He deserves everything he gets.

  “You tell everyone you fucking know she is off-limits. She is mine. And I’ll kill anyone who threatens her. Is that clear?” I growl, sheath my sword, and spit at the foul man as he runs away.

  Turning back to Lilith, I wrap my arm around her and throw her over my shoulder and march away from the mother fucker who dared to threaten her.

  A familiar boulder to my right lets me know we are far enough away. I grip her tight, despite her struggles against me. “What in the hell were you thinking going out there alone?”

  “How dare you?” she screeches. “Oh, the audacity you have Beowulf! Put me down!”

  “No.”

  She hits my back with her small fists. I hardly feel it. It actually feels pretty good. “You shall put me down now, or… or—”

  “—Or nothing. I’ll spank you if you don’t listen to me,” I warn, lowering my voice to a deep growl. The thought of bringing my hand down against her bare arse instantly gets my cock half-hard. It’s impossible
to keep my lust in check. I know she can hear it.

  I’m not in the mood for her arguing. I have too much to think about. I need to bathe. I’m filthy, still covered in soot, ash, and sweat.

  “Beowulf, you can’t go around and pick up women and throw them over your—”

  “—Oh, shut up, already,” I grumble, and when we get back to the cabin, I drop her on the furs. I ignore her protests about being unreasonable, and that she’s able to take care of herself. She can. I’m so fucking proud of her for punching Argent in the face. It’s sexy as hell that she has such fire, but I’ve been traveling all day. I’m tired and just want to forget everything.

  Forget my brother died.

  Forget my nephew is missing.

  Forget the woman I love doesn’t love me.

  I take a step back and lift a brow when I notice a new door. It’s sturdy. The workmanship is good. Great even. Someone must have fixed it while I was gone. I continue to the bathing room and pump the well for water to fill the basin. I light a fire underneath the tin over the makeshift firepit, and soon the water starts to boil. With a heavy sigh, I dig my heel into one of the loose boards and bend over to grab my secret bottle of mead.

  I shuck my pants off, along with my armor, and toss the blasted thing against the wall. Shite, I forgot to grab a fur to dry myself off with. Not caring one bit that I’m naked and my cock is swinging between my legs, I pop the cork off the bottle and take a swig of the mead. Damn, that’s good after a day like today.

  “What are you doing?” Lilith yelps, staring at me with wide eyes and pink cheeks.

  “Taking a bath,” I grunt, picking up a clean fur from the shelf. I feel her eyes on me, and it makes me flex my muscles.

  “Warn a lady next time, if you would,” she says.

  The fur is soft when I throw it over my shoulder. “It’s my house. I can be naked if I wish.” This time, the heat and annoyance in my voice isn’t playful. I’m barely hanging on. And if she pushes me, I’ll fall. I’m angry, but it doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate her eyes on me. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I have it now, but all I want is space, no matter how much my cock takes notice of her pinked cheeks.

  I toss the fur on the floor and sink into the heated basin. It’s the biggest one I could find when I was building this place, and the damn tin is still too small. A good portion of my legs hang out the sides, and on a good day, it bothers me. Today? I’m just trying to drink my mead and forget about what happened over the last few days.

  Water flows into my mouth. I spit it back out before dipping my head under the warm heat. I stay there for a minute, letting the warmth coat my body, my lips, my head. I let it cloak my body and drench my long hair. I let the tears build up in my eyes, letting them mix with the water. I know once I emerge, I’ll have control of my emotions again, but right now, I must take the opportunity to give in, to mourn, to be devastated. Soon enough my lungs start to burn. I lift out of the water and gasp for air, running my hand over my face to get the water out of my eyes.

  I’m done now. I’m not a man of many weaknesses, but at the end of the day, I’m human, and losing my brother is tearing me apart inside. Trident pulled me out of that house, along with my brother’s body. He was gutted by those Jackals. Fire would have been a better death than what those fucking Jackals did to him. I remember the urge to surrender and let those flames take me, but Trident wouldn’t allow it.

  I’m thankful now, and I should tell him that. Right now, I want to work through my emotions. I just feel empty.

  A knock on the wall stalls my emotional breakdown, and to stop myself from turning into a sad sap, I take a long swig of mead and remember I’m six and a half feet tall and two hundred and eighty pounds of pure muscle. Men like me don’t get to be weak.

  “Come in.” I take the bar of soap in my hand and let the suds fall over my arms before I put it down and lather my body.

  “Beowulf, I… is something wrong?” she keeps her eyes averted, stealing glances every so often.

  “Don’t want to talk about it.” I dip my head in the water and grab the bar of soap again, scrubbing the soot out of the long hairs. I keep washing until the soap is white again and not gray from the ash.

  Lilith decides to come in, throwing caution to the wind about the cock sticking straight up toward the ceiling. I may not want to fuck, but it doesn’t mean my cock doesn’t take notice of the woman of my dreams. Hell, I’m having a hard time keeping my fingers wrapped around the bottle of mead, but I have to. If I take her now, it won’t be what I’ve always fantasied about. I’ll be too angry, to full of angst, and she deserves better than that.

  She flips her hair over her shoulder, trying to fan it over her breasts, and my eyes stick to the hardening beads of her nipples tenting her gown. Her throat bobs, and a sheen of sweat drips down her neck. I chalk it up to the steam from the bath, but I know better. Lilith likes what she sees, and that makes my balls ache. She needs to go so I can wrap my fist around my dick and stroke myself in the name of Lilith.

  “No. Talk to me. You’ve been there for me. This is me being here for you.”

  “Is that so?” I say sadly, staring into the glass bottle of the mead. “If you only really knew how many times you’ve actually been there for me.”

  “I can’t help what happened then, Beowulf. All I can do is try now.”

  I tilt my head back against the basin and stare at the ceiling. Ah, I need to fix that. There’s a space between a few boards.

  “Beowulf!”

  I flop my head to the left and drink down the mead. “My brother is dead, and my nephew is missing. He is out there, somewhere. I must find him. Even if it means killing every last Jackal to get him back.”

  Something that isn’t water hits my hand. It’s her hand. It’s squeezing mine, and it makes my heart hurt even more than before I came into this bath.

  “My goddess, Beowulf. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s life.”

  Her hand lands on my cheek, and her fingers lock on my jaw, forcing me to look at her. “Life hasn’t been very kind to you. I’m so sorry for that.” Her fingers stroke my skin, and just having her so close has my body shivering. I’ve waited so long for her touch.

  “It’s alright.”

  “It isn’t, but I’ll do what I can to help. When we find your nephew, I can help raise him. I love kids.”

  “Aye?” I ask with a half-smile. “How do you know?”

  “I… I don’t know. It’s more of a feeling, I suppose,” she laughs.

  Silence fills the room, but her hands on me are louder than words. My cock hardens painfully, and her breath speeds up. I slide my eyes to her and refuse to hide my desire for her any longer. I can’t do it. It’s too painful, and with everything else going on inside me, I need the weight lifted. I need to breathe.

  “Lilith, I—” she cuts me off by claiming my lips with hers.

  My hand comes out of the water, soaked with droplets as I place it on the side of her face. She leans forward over the water and brushes her lips on mine again.

  Everything I’ve ever wanted is happening. It’s in this one kiss. Just like our first time, she initiated the liplock, and it may not be our first kiss to me, but it is to her. And that makes it that much sweeter. I take my time, moving our lips in harmony, and taste her tongue on mine. A groan slips from my lips, causing a whimper to leave hers, and I swallow it, drinking the music of her down until it’s feeding me, feeding the hunger I have for her.

  I never want to stop. Twelve years. Twelve fucking years it’s been since I’ve felt her lips on mine, and it’s even better than I remember.

  She pulls away from me, gasping for breath and tears in her eyes.

  My heart sinks. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I got carried away, but I just… I fucking love you, Lilith. I’ve loved you since forever. I can’t do this life without you anymore. I can’t.”

  I take her hands in mine and bring our noses together. “Maybe over time, you can learn to lov
e me. I’ll take care of you. Just give me a chance to prove it to you.” Fucking hell, this mead must be getting to me because I would have never admitted that out loud.

  “I remember.”

  “Remember what?” My heart stops beating for a second. I don’t dare to hope.

  She stares at me like she is seeing me for the first time. Tears are non-stop falling down her cheeks, and her fingers are rubbing over every inch of my face like she can’t believe I’m in front of her.

  “Beowulf. I remember you. I remember everything,” she sobs. “Your lips. The kiss.” She reaches for her mouth, her hand shaking. “The meadow. I kissed you in the meadow. It was fleeting, but it was everything I dreamed it would be. The sun was hot that day, and I wanted to lay with you under it until the sky turned black, and the stars were out.”

  “Lilith, you better not be playing with me right now.”

  “You’ve always been there for me. Even when I was taken and you weren’t physically there, you were here,” she lays her hand over her heart. “I thought about you every day. You kept me alive in hopes I would see you again. It’s the only thing that kept me going.”

  I can’t take it anymore. I leap out of the tub, scoop her into my arms, and run to where the pile of furs are. The fire is going, but it isn’t what has my skin hot.

  “Lilith,” is all I can say, before crashing my mouth to hers again. Fuck, she remembers me. I must have fallen asleep in the basin because there is no way everything I’ve ever wanted is in my grasp right now.

  That’s not how life works for me.

  “I love you,” I tell her between kisses, hating to break us apart, even for a second, but I must let her know just in case she forgets again. “I love you so much, Angel. It’s only ever been you to have my heart.”

  “I love you too, Beowulf.”

  The words are my saving grace. My insides pull together, and piece by piece, the emptiness is gone, and I start to feel whole again. She’s always had that power over me. Lilith is the key to my well-being. She’s my soul. Without her, I’m a cold, ruthless killer that knows no bounds.

 

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