Beowulf's Claim (Viking Warriors Book 3)

by Jessica Knight

  The temperature in the house lowers, and I throw another log in the fireplace to keep the flames blazing hot. I rub my arms to warm myself and drape a fur over me, running my hands down the soft pelt of the deer Beowulf killed a few weeks ago. Rian stirs in his sleep but doesn’t wake. When I see his sweet, innocent face, I start to get angry with Beowulf for leaving his nephew how he did. What if the boy woke up and found himself in a cabin with a woman he barely knows? He would be frightened.

  Oh, just wait until that big brute comes home. I shall give him a piece of my mind. If he doesn’t want anything to do with me, fine, but the least he can do is be here for his nephew. The more I think about it, the angrier I become. Beowulf is a better man than this. What in the world is going on with him?

  I grab the needle and thread and try to finish the shirt I was working on. My movements are jerky and frustrated. I’m taking it out on the poor material, and it didn’t do anything to me. The truth is, Rian can wait for clothes, but it is the only excuse I have to stay up to see if Beowulf comes home with another woman.

  Boots pound heavy on the steps, and I rock the chair I’m sitting in and get back to work. I don’t want him to think I’m waiting up for him. When the door opens, I immediately smell mead. My nose crinkles, and that familiar spark of anger returns. He left me and Rian here to go get drunk? Unbelievable.

  “What are you still doing up?” he asks. He may reek of mead, but his head seems to be on straight.

  I lift one shoulder and shrug, pushing the needle through the shirt. “I couldn’t sleep. I’m making clothes for Rian.” It isn’t a full out lie, but I wanted to see if Beowulf came home alone, and he did. Why does that give me hope?

  “You are still beautiful, even when you lie.”

  My mouth drops open on his accusation. “I’m not lying. He needs new clothes.”

  “I can buy him clothes from the tailor,” Beowulf says, and it strikes a chord with me.

  “Yes, I forgot. The warrior, so well-off, and the poor little servant girl that can’t do anything because everything she touches is sullied. Isn’t that how it always was?” I spit, throwing the damn shirt on the ground. It isn’t even a shirt anymore with how many times I’ve messed up.

  His silence speaks a thousand words. I scoff. “Of course it was.”

  “Stop being so damn stubborn. Who cares if I have money? I want to take care of Rian. I want to take care of you. Fucking stop being mad, woman. Accept what is,” he barks at me, and the loud boom of his voice causes Rian to stir.

  “What is? Please. It’s your way of controlling me.”

  He stomps forward, bending down until his nose is touching mine. “Damn right it is. I lost you once. I’m not going to lose you again. Do you know what that did to me?” he pounds his chest with his fist. “Searching for you all those years destroyed me, Lilith. You were my best friend. You are my best friend. I shall never do anything to jeopardize that. Ever.”

  Something in his eyes, a flash of regret moves behind his clear blue eyes, but he masks it with how angry he is a second later.

  “You’re going to stay in this fucking house, safe, well-fed, love me, be with me, and do whatever the fuck you please as long as you stay in the kingdom because I can’t go another day if I lost you again. Sit down. Shut up. And accept it!”

  His voice shakes with how irate he is. His chest heaves, and the fire glistens off the sheen of sweat coating his face.

  Rian mumbles something in his sleep and flips over in the bed. I have had it with the fighting with him, and I’ve had it with the sinking feeling in my gut when I look at Beowulf lately.

  “What are you hiding from me? Tell me the truth. If not for me, then for Rian because I won’t let him be around this tension. He has had enough trauma in his life!” I snap, my voice weak and on the edge of breaking. “Just tell me before it drives me mad.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I place my hands on his chest and stare at him with teary eyes. “Stop lying to me, Beowulf. Just stop.”

  He places his hands around my wrist, and his shoulders sag. Pulling me away from the furs Rian is sleeping on; he takes me to the room where the basin is for baths. “Promise you won’t leave me. Promise you’ll stay. Promise you’ll love me. Please. Please, Angel. I’m so sorry.”

  I’ve not known Beowulf to beg for much, and the fact that he is, it makes ice flow through my veins. “What did you do?”

  “Something I know you’ll never forgive me for.”

  I know in my heart of hearts, there is nothing he could do that I couldn’t forgive him for. “Just tell me, my love.”

  He shakes his head and drops it in his hands. I’ve never seen him so out of sorts. “I can’t. I can’t say the words.” Beowulf sits on the edge of the basin, and I insert myself between his legs, stroking his face with my hand to try and calm him.

  He wraps his arms around me, pulling me tight to his body. It’s too tight, and it almost makes it hard to breathe, but I don’t say anything.

  “One last time before you go,” he mutters, breaking my heart. “Give me one last time. I beg you.”

  “Beowulf, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Kiss me.”

  “Beowulf—”

  “Please. I need to feel your lips.”

  My resolve crumbles, and I lean forward, pressing my lips against his. He still tastes of mead, but I find it delicious since it’s mixed with his natural flavor. He kisses me as if it is the last time. His lips caress mine in a way that I have never felt from him before. It’s tender, gentle, and soft. My hands clutch his shoulders, and a whimper escapes me from the heartache pouring off him.

  “Beowulf,” I say, trying to snap him back to reality.

  “Not yet.”

  Instead of arguing with him, I give in to what he wants. Because despite myself, I want it too. The need pouring off of him is my last resolve, and I meet his kiss again. His hands stroke my face, my neck, and slide down my body until his wide palms land on my hips. He ignites a carnal desire in my body with the simplest touch. I try and hold on to what we must talk about, but the more his lips are on me, the further it drifts away.

  I’m straddling his waist now, rocking my hips back and forth over the long length in his pants. His fingers tug the strings that hold my dress together, slowly loosening the tight hold the material had on my body. The dress falls to my hips, exposing my breasts to Beowulf. A low rumble sounds from his chest when he sees them. His large hands grope and knead, plucking my hardened nipples, and it causes my sheath to get even wetter—something I didn’t know was possible.

  “Beowulf,” I moan as he takes one of my pink beads into his mouth.

  He doesn’t say a word. I have a feeling he is on the edge of breaking, so we continue our exploration of each other. I tug his shirt over his head and toss it somewhere behind me. Breaking the kiss, I rub my hands over the mountainous shoulders. The soft, thick hair tickles my palms as I marvel over how beautiful this man is beneath me. His skin is marred from years of battle. Pure strength and power exude from him. But the way his eyes pierce me suggests I’m his one true weakness.

  With one arm curled around my back and the other one pulling the dress down over my hips, he lays me down on the ground, the rough scratch of the hardwood floors imprint on my back.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against my skin, kissing his way down my body. “I love you. Never forget how much I love you.”

  “I could never,” I gasp as his fingers slide through my drenched folds.

  Soon we are naked; our bodies pressed tight against one another. His cock rests against my pussy, getting wet with every moment. His lips find mine again, and he changes the position of his hips, adding a slight curl to his thrust. He sinks his long cock inside me until the tip hits my fertile womb. One of his hands clutches onto mine for dear life as he rocks into me. Thunder shakes the cabin at the same time my first orgasm electrifies me.

  I int
ake a sharp breath. Rain slams against the windows.

  Beowulf lifts me up until my legs are straddling his thighs, and we are face to face. Our breath mixes. We are together in perfect harmony, pelvis to pelvis, chest to chest, and his fingers dig into my hair until his blunt nails scrape my scalp. With every whimper I make, he moans. Beowulf keeps me close as we make love, keep every part of our bodies connected.

  “I love you. I love you. I love you,” he chants under his breath every time he slides in to the hilt.

  “I love you, Beowulf.” My mouth falls open, the air is falling from my lungs faster than I can breathe it in, my skin is wet with sweat, but I never want to stop. The heat in my body climbs. I cling to him. Lightening cracks, muting the scream that leaves me from another orgasm.

  It sends Beowulf over the edge too. His teeth sink in the curve of my shoulder, grunting with every rope of warm come that heats my core.

  We stay in the position, gasping for air, bodies trembling, and our hearts pounding profusely. Everything we feel for one another is a barrier around us; nothing can get in, nothing can get out, nothing can break us.

  “I killed your father,” he whispers, finally breaking into tears.

  And then what keeps me safe in his arms, shatters. I can’t help but wonder if I ever really knew the man in front of me at all.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Beowulf

  I hadn’t known another way to say it. After what we just shared, the way our bodies connected, I knew I had to tell her the truth. A better time wouldn’t have been mere moments after we had made love, which was exactly what we just did, but my world was laid bare to her, and the only way to stay true to the love I had for her was to just spit out the truth.

  I knew the moment the words left my mouth; I lost her. She scurries away from me, back against the wall, and she grabs for her dress, trying desperately to cover up the body she gifted me with a few moments ago.

  “Let me explain—” I pull my pants up to cover my nudity. It doesn’t seem like the time to be exposed.

  “—Explain yourself?” she scoffs. “Explain? You had plenty of opportunities to explain yourself. Plenty, Beowulf. I can’t believe you. All this time, I’ve wondered, I’ve asked, I’ve cried over my father’s death, and not only did you know, but you did it.” She sobs, covering her mouth with her hand. I reach for her, but she slaps my hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Angel—”

  “Don’t call me that!” she cries.

  “He tried to kill me. I was only defending myself. He was angry about our friendship. Please, I would never just kill someone you love. You know me better than that.” I crawl on my knees toward her, trying to be as close to her as I can without physically touching her.

  “I thought I did,” she whispers, her eyes glossed over and fixated on the floor in a daze. “But the Beowulf I know wouldn’t have kept this from me for so long.”

  “I only kept it from you because—”

  “I know. You didn’t want to lose me. I know my father was an arsehole. I grieved him because he was my father, but I don’t miss him. It’s all the covering up you did, the betrayal, the lying. How could you watch me cry?”

  “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” I hang my head in misery. “So many times, I wanted to tell you.”

  “And you tell me after we make love like that?” she snaps, and I can hear her heart breaking with every word.

  When we were having sex this time, something was different. The energy, the emotions. I wasn’t sure if it was me giving off how much I needed her, but we clung to each other. We were closer than ever before, and selfishly, I’m glad I got to experience it with her because I know I’ll never experience it again. “I needed you.”

  “I needed my Beowulf! The one that doesn’t only look out for himself.” She stands, slithering her body back into her dress. Slowly, her long legs are covered, the blonde bush above her pussy disappears under the material, and her breasts are pushed up from the tightening of the string in front.

  “Please.” The emotion in my voice is enough to make her stop walking away from me. “I had to. This was my first scar. He gave this to me,” I run and stand in front of her, pointing to the long, jagged scar across my stomach. Her face is pale, and she looks like she is going to be sick.

  Lilith ducks her head down and runs by me until the door slams against the wall. She disappears into the night toward the castle.

  “Lilith!” my voice echoes off the trees.

  “Uncle Woof?” Rian’s little voice calls for me sleepily.

  I want to run after her. I want to carry her back into this house and lock her away until she agrees I had to do what I did, but what would that prove? Would I be just like the Jackals, locking her away for my own ends? Never letting her be free and happy?

  Besides, Rian is here now, and I can’t leave him. I tilt my head up and blow out a breath until my lungs sting with the need for more oxygen. I hold the need to breathe in and watch the fog from my lips dance to the sky. The frozen rain does nothing to ease the heat flowing through my body. My hair sticks to my neck and forehead, and I trace the long scar over my stomach, the rain steaming off my body.

  All I can do is give her space and hope she comes back to me. She has once; she will again. Won’t she?

  Doing the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life, I turn my back and head back inside. Rian is sitting up in bed now, a thumb in his mouth, and his big eyes blinking with sleep. “Sshh. Are you alright? Bad dream?”

  “Where’s mommy and daddy?”

  Fuck. I cannot deal with this right now. I don’t have any idea what to say to him yet. “Go back to sleep. We shall talk about it in the morning, okay?”

  “Where did Liliff go?” he yawns. “Can you lay wiff me? You keep me safe.”

  The words hit my heart hard. It means everything that he wants to be close to me. I know he is afraid to be in a new place.

  “I’ll always protect you, little man. Always.” I lay down, and he curls his head until he is using me as a pillow. “Lilith isn’t happy with me right now, so she went to get some air.”

  “When mommy is mad at daddy, daddy brings her flowers. It helps,” he yawns again.

  Is. He still thinks they are alive.

  “Smart man, your dad.” I try and keep my answer as neutral as possible. I don’t want him to go back to sleep with the thought of his parents dead. Tomorrow is a new day. For now, I’m going to let him sleep, thinking that his daddy is still getting his mommy flowers.

  “You’re a smart man too. Just get flowers,” he shrugs before falling back to sleep.

  If only love was that easy. It’s going to take more than flowers to win Lilith back. It’s going to take the power of a hundred goddesses, and hell, I’m not even sure about my faith in one.

  I play with Rian’s head of curls, helping him fall asleep. I stare at the ceiling, my mind swirling with a million different things. If I could go back in time and not kill her father, would I stop myself? If it came down to his life and mine, I’m choosing myself. I know for a fact I wouldn’t change a thing, and that only makes me feel worse.

  I’ve slayed more men than I can count, but that one kill, her father, I knew would change the rest of my life. Even though she ran from me tonight, I know we will work this out because that’s how the story plays out in my head. If she changes the ending on me, I’ll have to leave this kingdom because loving her and not being able to have her when she is so close; I won’t be able to survive that kind of torture.

  Oddly enough, I feel lighter knowing the truth is out there. I just hope she can find it in her heart to forgive me for lying to her all these years. Her father was an abusive man that didn’t know how to put down the mead. It’s why she said she doesn’t miss him, but I never thought my lying would hurt her more than the death of her own blood.

  I fucked up.

  I bring my fingers to my temples and try to rub the ache away. Now that I ha
ve who knows how much time on my hands, I should use it to focus on Rian to try and make the adjustment without his parents easier. This cabin won’t cut it anymore. I’ll need to add on to it. Rian had his own room before, and I’m sure the last thing he wants is for us to be piled high in the middle of the floor every night. I know I don’t want that, especially when Lilith comes back.

  An idea strikes me.

  I’ll add on a few more rooms. One for us, one Rian, and a few more for other children because if I have any say in it, she will be having our kids. Nothing makes me happier than to think about a little girl running around with her blonde hair and big brown eyes, or a little boy who wants to be a warrior like his father. I’ve dreamed of our future since we were sixteen, and I’m not about to change that.

  I fucked up by not telling her the truth, but I didn’t fuck up killing her father. I’d do it again if it meant my life was threatened or someone threatening to take her away from me. Every time, I will choose her. I will choose us.

  I close my eyes to try and get some sleep, but Lilith’s eyes haunt me. The way she looked at me… it was as if I was a stranger, and it fucking hurts. I rub my chest, trying to ease the shooting pain in my chest, but nothing helps. I want to be able to hold her and tell her how sorry I am.

  She’ll forgive you.

  I repeat those words over in my head until I somewhat believe it, but then the image of her fleeing from me makes me wonder again.

  “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath before rolling out of bed. Rian is sound asleep again, but I do not think I’ll be able to fathom shutting my eyes until she is near me. I lay my elbows on my knees and hang my head. That’s when I notice something by my feet. Bending over, I take the small cloth in my hand and smile. It’s the shirt Lilith was making Rian. The needle is hanging off the thread, swinging in the air. It’s almost done. If I knew how to sew, I would, but my fingers are too big. I don’t have a delicate touch of a woman.

  Maybe I can deliver it to the castle, and she will finish it for me, but I’ll say it’s for Rian. I’ll do anything to get close to her again. I’ll devise any plan. If I know the room she is staying in, I’ll climb through the window. Anything to get her to talk to me again.