“I think you know exactly what I mean.” He grabbed her knee. “I watched you in the bathhouse today.”
“Oh my God,” she gasped.
“I watched you pleasure yourself,” he whispered in her ear as his fingers glided up her thigh, “No wonder Gunnar wants to keep you away from me.”
“Get yer filthy hands off me!” she exclaimed, but her cries were muffled by the noise of the crowd.
“That is not what you really mean,” he said, pulling her closer, moving his hand between her legs, “You screamed out my name. I heard you. Don’t worry, sweeting, I guarantee that you’ll be screaming for more once I am between your legs.”
“Leave me alone,” she cried, pushing him away.
“Let me show you what a real man can do,” he growled.
He lunged forward, grabbing Shannon around the waist, pulling her closer. Biting. Scratching. She tried to fight him, but he was too strong. He fondled her breasts, groped her buttocks. She screamed, but no one came to help her.
Where was Gunnar? He had promised not to leave her. Dear God, Shannon thought, trying to squirm out of Magnus’ grasp. Someone had to do something before she was taken against her will. Suddenly, she broke free and slapped Magnus hard across the face.
Magnus grabbed her shoulders and raised his fist, “No slave will raise a hand to me!”
“No!” she shrieked, falling to the ground.
Suddenly, a dagger flew by Magnus’ face, splitting the wood of his chair. Silence swept across the crowd. Tension filled the air. He turned and saw Ravenshield glaring at him.
“It’s time for you to leave,” Ravenshield growled.
Magnus shot Shannon a look that would kill. No woman would to make a fool out of him, and get away with it. She may carry the mark of Freya, but he was going to brand her in a different way. Not even Ravenshield would be able save her, he thought, throwing back his chair. This was not the time nor the place to seek revenge. There would be plenty of time for that.
“We’ll finish this later,” he spat, then stormed off into the darkness.
Gunnar headed straight for Shannon and helped her from the ground. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” she replied softly, leaning against his chest.
Shannon eased down in her chair, feeling her knees buckle. She felt numb all over. A sick rumble churned in her stomach. Her head started to throb. This was not a place where she needed to pass out or lapse into another vision. She inhaled slowly, trying to calm down.
“Here,” Ravenshield whispered, holding out a mug of ale, “Drink this. It will help you.”
Shannon wrapped her quivering fingers around the mug and took a sip. The ale soothed her parched throat. “Thank ye.”
He took her hand in his and whispered, “Please, forgive me. I should not have left you.”
Shannon couldn’t believe her ears. Had he actually apologized? To her? Impossible. She turned toward him, searching for something to say. Before she could utter a word, he continued,
“Shannon, I want you to know that I would not have allowed him to touch you. I did not mean what I said earlier about selling you to another. You are more than just property to me.”
She turned and looked at him, searching his eyes. Compassion poured from them. Sincerity was written all over his face. Her heart leapt out of her chest knowing he meant every word.
“Let the revelry begin!” Olaf cheered raising his arms up in the air.
Music filled the air as fifes played on, villagers started to dance. Ravenshield rose from his seat and stood in front of her. A grin drifted over his face as he met her gaze. He lifted her hand and asked, “Shall we dance, my lady?”
Shannon smiled and replied, “Yes.”
Ravenshield took her by the arm and joined the other dancers. He gripped her elbow with one hand and took the lead, walking in a circle, twirling her once before leaning in. Her breasts brushed against him as the drumbeats pulsed through his veins. Flames of passion ignited inside his loins as he laced his fingers around her waist. With one swift move, he spun her around then pulled her closer, holding her tightly against him. Heat rose between them as he inched toward her lips. Just one kiss, he thought, feeling her breath against his skin.
“Torch Branle!” Olaf shouted.
Damn, Ravenshield cursed. He had missed his chance. But not for long. He watched as servants scurried around giving everyone a candle.
“What do we do with this?” Shannon whispered.
“Hold it in your right hand and follow me,” he said.
Shannon stepped within the circle and watched Ravenshield join the outer one. She locked eyes with him, waiting for the dance to begin. Soon, music filled the air with a haunting melody. The sound of the harp was hypnotizing, calming. The murmur of the drums matched her heartbeat, pulsing on without end. With a sidestep and a turn, she blended in with the others, weaving a mystical ring around the king and queen.
As she followed the others swaying and twirling, Shannon saw King Olaf light one of the candles. With each turn and bow, another torch was lit. Firelight multiplied throughout the crowd until two blazing rings traveled inside one another. Flames danced wildly in the breeze. The pulse of the drums grew louder. The sound of finger cymbals cut the air.
Just as Ravenshield caught Shannon around her waist, the music stopped. He leaned over and blew out her flame before extinguishing his own. Darkness fell around them. His hand glided up the small of her back as he leaned closer, feeling her body mold to his.
She felt so good, he thought, feeling her breath against his cheek. Every curve of her body called to him. Her skin was incredibly warm. He going to get his kiss after all, and nothing was going to stop him. Gliding his forefinger along her chin, he lifted her head and pressed his mouth tenderly against hers, savoring the softness of her lips.
He went further, tracing her upper lip with his tongue until she opened her mouth. While caressing her cheek with the back of his hand, he deepened the kiss, savoring the sweet taste of mead that lingered. She pressed against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Something carnal stirred inside his trews as he held her in his arms. Heat rose between them. The flames may have been doused in Dublin, but a fiery passion burned wildly within.
“Huzzah!” The crowd cheered as light spread throughout Dublin once again.
Ravenshield gazed down at Shannon and noticed the wanton look in her eye—she was more than willing to warm his bed tonight. She could not deny it. There was no use in trying to hide the deep-rooted yearning any longer. It was time to go, he thought, taking her by the hand. And the sooner they reached the longhouse, the better.
Chapter 14
Shannon wrapped her arms around his neck as he pushed her against the door. Viking or not, she wanted Gunnar Ravenshield so badly that it drove her mad. Something had changed in him, something moving. She saw sincerity in his eyes tonight, felt the power between them. In spite of their argument, he had saved her from a madman. She no longer saw him as a conqueror, but a man of honor who cared for her.
She could not wait to get inside the longhouse where they could be alone. They were far away enough from the crowd that no one would see, she thought, feeling his hands roam down her back.
“Gunnar,” she whispered as his hands snaked up her dress, hiking up the hem to her thighs.
“Yes?” he asked, massaging her bottom.
“Thank ye,” she said.
“For what?”
“For protectin’ me,” she said.
Ravenshield kissed her deeply, probing the moist cavern of her mouth with his tongue. He broke the embrace and nuzzled her nose with his. “Shannon, you must understand one thing.”
“What is that?”
“A true Viking protects his woman no matter what the cost.”
She looked into his eyes. “Gunnar.”
“I’ll not have another man touch you.” Ravenshield kissed her passionately as she hopped into his arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist,
straddling him.
“I want tonight to be special,” she whispered in his ear.
He slid his fingers between her dewy folds. She was more than ready for him, he thought, pulling down his trews. “It will be.”
Ravenshield slid his sex inside her and pumped vigorously. The door creaked in a steady rhythm as he pushed her body against the wood. Back and forth. In and out. Each plunge brought him closer to climax. He felt her slickness coat his cock as he pulsed faster. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead. A few more thrusts and he would explode. Hearing her moans sent him into a frenzy as he bucked forcefully. Suddenly, a wave of white hot passion burst and flooded her womb with his seed.
“That was wonderful,” she said breathlessly, feeling the last of her spasms fade.
“Yes, it was,” he whispered, “Let’s go inside where we can be alone.”
Shannon smiled and slid off his waist while he opened the door. Making love with Gunnar was something she couldn’t resist. Though they had their differences, she could look beyond them and see a man who cared for her. His eyes held a genuine compassion that infiltrated the wall that she had built around her heart.
“Alright,” she said quietly, stepping through the threshold.
Magnus watched as the door shut behind them. He could hear their laughter from the inside while he hid in the bushes. His anger simmered gradually until revenge overwhelmed him. Gritting his teeth, he balled up his fist and slammed it against the trunk of a tree. The dead thud melted into the darkness as a few pieces of bark fell to the ground. Gunnar had humiliated him in front of the entire village, and that infuriated him. No one would disgrace him and get away with it, he thought. There are other ways to get even, and no one would ever suspect he was behind it.
“You’re time will come,” Magnus growled, drifting back into the shadows, “Ravenshield, I will see to it that you will lose everything, including the one you call the Valkyrie of Fire.”
Chapter 15
Sunlight streamed through the longhouse window, gently waking Shannon from a peaceful sleep. She rolled over and buried her head beneath the covers trying to block out the light. After a night filled with wild passion, she just couldn’t bring herself to get out of bed yet. Her lips were still swollen from Gunnar’s kisses. The surface of her skin continued to burn from his touch. Last night was more than what she expected, she thought, feeling her inner thighs ache.
A smile curled her lips as visions of them making love flashed through her mind. She wanted to relive each position—against the wall, from behind, bent over the bed—the list could go on and on. He had brought her to climax multiple times, exploring every curve and crevice of her body. She sighed and thought of how delicious it had felt to have his tongue glide along the inside of her thigh, slowly unlocking the desire hidden between her legs. Just the idea of him licking her intimately caused dew to gather in the folds of her sex. She yearned for him, ached for his touch.
Her hips pulsed back and forth slowly, succumbing to the primal urge that he had awakened the night before. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she anticipated the pleasures that awaited her. The carnal feelings that had been suppressed for so long had been released. It didn’t matter if what she was about to do seemed improper or wanton. Shannon craved his body, begged him to be inside her. She wanted him more than ever before. She had to have him. Now.
Shannon pushed the covers down and rolled over. She threw her arm on to his side of the bed, searching for him. Her hand skimmed down the blankets slowly, hoping to find him ready.
“Gunnar?” she whispered, opening her eyes. There was no answer—he was not there. She leaned forward and scanned the room looking for him.
A thick haze blanketed the room making it difficult to see. A sooty smell burned her nostrils. An uneasy feeling rippled in her stomach as she rolled off the mattress. She turned toward the window and saw a bright light shimmering from outside.
Fear shot through her as she crept toward the window. Something was terribly wrong. A thick lump had formed in the back of her throat. She peeked outside as terror scaled down her spine.
“Dear God!” she gasped, covering her mouth with one hand. One of the longhouses had caught on fire. Flames leapt high into the air. Smoke billowed up into the sky. The blaze spread quickly, engulfing the roof.
Shannon quickly scooped up her dress that was crumpled on the floor and pulled it over her head. She could hear screams from outside. With a sharp turn of the latch, she opened the door and dashed through the corridor making her way into the main hall. She unbolted the door and sprinted outside. Villagers raced toward the fire, carrying buckets of water to douse the flames. From out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gerta barreling down the path toward her.
Shannon reached out and grabbed her arm. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Dirk Bjornsson’s longhouse is burnin’ to the ground,” Gerta wheezed.
“Is he alright? Where are the others?”
“Dirk is fine. Everyone is accounted for except one. Ravenshield is lookin’ for a child that didnae get out.”
“Who?”
“He came from yer village, lass,” Gerta went on, “The lad’s name is Braelin.”
“Braelin!”
Shannon snatched the bucket from Gerta’s hand and raced toward the burning building. This cannot be, she thought, watching the flames grow higher. Braelin had not been shipped off with others to be sold. Instead, he was trapped in an inferno, fighting for his life.
She joined the others who battled the wild flames that were swallowing the house. With a mighty heave, she threw the water from the pail and saw smoke rise from where it landed. Shannon turned and ran to the well to fill it up again. Part of the longhouse collapsed throwing cinders and smoke into the air. There was nothing left to do, she thought. Though the building could not be saved, she had to believe that Ravenshield and Braelin would make it out alive.
“Please,” she prayed as she ran toward the well.
The sound of the fire overwhelmed her ears. Smoke stifled each breath. Her hope was fading as cries filled the air. A lump form in the back of her throat. It would take a miracle for them to survive, she thought, wiping tears from her eyes.
She had to face the truth even though it was difficult. The little boy that she had tried to rescue from the raid did not stand a chance. Braelin had been so young, so full of life. She could still see his smile. His laughter echoed throughout her mind.
Breathe, she said to herself as a river of tears streamed down her face. Not only did she lose Braelin, but also Ravenshield. Her heart ached, ripped apart by an unforeseen disaster. Unforeseen? No, she thought. She had witnessed it in one of her visions but was too unskilled to know what it meant.
Damn it, she cursed. Why couldn’t she had been brave enough to warn Ravenshield? If she had said something, then Gunnar and Braelin would still be alive. Overwhelmed by emotion, Shannon dropped to her knees and sobbed. Gravels dug into her skin, but she was too numbto fill the pain. Nothing compared to the agony that filled her heart. This was worse than any nightmare. Wake up. She had to wake up...
“Look!” a voice cried out from the crowd.
Shannon’s lifted her head and peered through the smoky haze. There was a shadow that had appeared in the doorway. She rose from the ground slowly and stared straight ahead. Impossible, she thought, watching the figure grow clearer. Her heart skipped a beat. Her hands started to tremble as she watched a person stagger out of the longhouse.
“Ravenshield,” she whispered and took a step forward. Shannon blinked several times, wondering if her mind was playing tricks on her. Her throat tightened. Sweat trickled down her forehead. It was him. And he was carrying Braelin in his arms.
Shannon tore off down the trail, running toward him. Her legs pumped harder, her heart beat faster. Smoke stung her eyes, but she pressed on. She could not get to him quickly enough. Part of her worried that he would disappear in the thick smoke if she took her eyes off of hi
m. Run faster, she said to herself.
“Gunnar!” she screamed, watching him stumble and fall.
Suddenly Dirk bolted out from the ash-filled cloud and helped Gunnar off the ground. He scooped the boy up in his arms and turned to Shannon.
“Grab his arm,” Dirk ordered, “I’ll take the boy. We have to get them away from the fire.”
“I’ve got him,” she said, holding on to Gunnar’s arm.
“Get him out of here!” Dirk bellowed as a black cloud of smoke rolled out of the longhouse.
Shannon turned to Ravenshield and asked, “Can ye walk?”
“Yes,” he choked, teetering back and forth.
“Let’s go,” she coughed.
Shannon latched on to his arm and led him farther away from the burning building. Cinders floated in the air. Smoke stifled each breath. Every stride brought them closer to safety. In spite of the thick cloud of smoke, she trudged forward. There had to be a break soon, she thought, putting one foot in front of the other.
Suddenly, she felt gravel under her feet—they had reached the footpath. Exhilaration flowed through her veins as the haze began to thin. They were getting closer to a clearing. She could see it. Step by step, she led Ravenshield to the hillside away from danger.
“Sit down,” she said, lowering him to the ground, “We’re safe now.”
Ravenshield choked and gagged, gasping for air. His hands shook. Soot covered his face and clothes.
“The boy,” he coughed, “Is he alright?”
Gerta kneeled beside Shannon with a bucket of water and answered, “Braelin will be fine. Dirk’s wife is tendin’ to him now.”
“Good,” he whispered.
“Here,” Shannon tore part of her dress and dunked it in the water, “Let me wipe yer face.”
“Please,” he wheezed, feeling the material graze his face.
“Ye could’ve died in there,” Shannon breathed, choking on tears.
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