Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up.
I curtsy. “Thank you.” I tug my hand free and wipe my fingers on the skirt of my gown.
He stares at me like I’m his dinner. His dark brown eyes remind me of a snake, and his bumpy, broken nose is long, reminding me of a horse’s snout. He is not a good-looking man. I can’t imagine myself being in a passionate embrace with him. The thought has my stomach rolling, and my instinct is to fly away like a bird.
“May I have the next dance?” he asks.
“Oh, I do not dance,” I say, grabbing a small glass of wine from the servant who is walking around the room with a silver tray full of the only thing that is going to keep this night going.
“Every lady dances,” he says with a big smile, showing his crooked teeth.
I’m no lady.
“Well, I hurt my ankle the other day, and moving around like I’d need to dance is something I want to stay away from. You understand?” I shuffle my weight on my other leg to show that it is bothering me. I didn’t actually hurt my ankle. I just cannot dance with anyone in this room. For a simple reason: I do not want to.
His smile trips with a bit of annoyance. It twitches for just the slightest second before the slithering mask slides back into place. “I see. I am so sorry to hear about your ankle.”
“Thank you. I have to make my way around the room. It was lovely seeing you.”
“You as well, Lady Sylvie.”
I walk away before he can take my hand to his lips again. I have the same conversation a dozen times. My heart doesn’t sing when I speak to them. I do not have this warm feeling swirling in my belly when I hear their voice. The space between my legs does not tingle. I feel nothing. A part of me is defeated. Was I looking forward to the party? No. Was there a part of me that may have hoped I connected with someone?
Yes.
Even under the disguise of not wanting to be here, there was that little flicker of hope. There was a little voice in the back of my head that told me this could be it. This could be the chance for me to get away from my parents if I fell in love.
But that was me dreaming again. I’m wondering if I’ve built the idea of love up in my head to create this unattainable life; I’ve hoped for myself. Maybe love isn’t instant. Maybe it doesn’t actually sweep you off your feet. Maybe it doesn’t exist at all.
My heart sinks. I’m such a fool for daydreaming for so long about nothing.
“Excuse me, please,” I say to another man that I know I have no future with before I grab my skirt with my hands and run away. I have no destination in mind, but the hot burn of emotion stings my eyes. The loud conversation gets more distant until it’s nothing but a low hum and a slight echo in the hallway.
I slam my back against the wall and slide down, doing my best not to cry. I hate that I actually wanted something to work out during this party. At first, I wanted nothing to do with it and almost ran away again, but after the meeting with my parents, my life is going to change. I stare up at the ceiling and the torches lighting the hall. Watching the flames dance back and forth is calming. Even with all the madness in my life right now, it brings me peace.
“Everything will be alright soon. When the Karstens receive our message, we shall get what is owed to us.”
Sniffling, I rub my nose on the back of my hand and turn my head to the doorway next to me. That sounds like my father.
“I don’t know about this. These parties are getting expensive, and Sylvie is wild. She wants nothing to do it. She is our only way out of this.”
My brows pinch together when I hear my mom’s voice. I get on my knees and shuffle to the doorway, placing my ear against the wood.
“Too bad. She will do what we say. We will make her do it. I do not care. If she does not get on board with this herself, then we will have an arranged marriage. We need the money.”
“What?” I whisper to myself, my heart racing when their words sink in.
“And when we go to war with Lord Grimkael and kill the Karstens. Not only will we take the kingdom, but their riches too.”
“I hope you’re right because I can’t continue to live like this. We shouldn’t have funded those damn Jackals. And now look? They are dead. Our money down the drain. Our kingdom is going in ruin. It’s all on Sylvie.”
“She will save us. I’ll make her.”
I shuffle back on my hands and knees, gasping. They are going to use me. They do not care about my happiness. They helped the Jackals? They want to marry me off, regardless of if I am in love or not? Who are these people? They are so desperate for money. I had no idea.
“Oh my goddess,” I keep my mouth covered while I run to my room. I feel as though I’m going to be sick. I trip over my gown a few times, but right myself before I fall to the hard ground. It’s hard to see from the tears blurring my vision. My life has completely changed. Everything makes so much sense now. The reason they have been cruel and putting me under so much pressure.
When I get to the tower entrance, I fling the door open and shut it right behind me,. I race up the stairs, holding onto the railing to help me up the winding steps. I can hardly breathe. The amount of effort it takes to stay upright is exhausting. Sweat drips down my temples, mixing in with the tears threatening to fall off my jaw.
Once I get to the top I slam my bedroom door shut, locking the iron slab over it so no one can come in, and I let everything go. I sob and wail as if the pain is tearing through every layer of bone, muscle, and skin. It hurts. I’ve never felt so betrayed in my entire life.
I do what I always do when I’m feeling lost. I go to my window. My fingers slip against the glass to lift it.
The window jiggles from the attempt, but it won’t open
“Come on,” I grit, pressing harder. I hit the window with my palm, knocking the pane out of it. It goes skittering down to the ground below. A gust of wind carrying a hint of salt bursts in my face, drying my wet cheeks. I take a deep breath, letting the only thing that brings me peace sink into my lungs.
The stone of the castle scratches my knees as I climb out the window onto the roof, avoiding the shards of what used to be my window. I tuck my knees to my chest and rest my chin against my leg, watching the ocean crash angrily onto the shore, mimicking the emotional turmoil I feel.
The moon is large and full at the edge of the sea. No stars are out, staying hidden beneath the clouds and the depth of the sky. I close my eyes and let the warm breeze grace my skin. I wish I was anywhere but here. I’d settle for anything right about now.
Maybe settling for one of the men downstairs is what is best for me. Not only will I be away from here, but my family will get their debt settled, apparently. If I care enough, I’ll help them.
But I don’t. Goddess, I really don’t care. Does that make me a bad daughter? They have made their beds, and I should have them sleep in it.
“Right, get yourself together.”
I lift my face from my valley between my legs and wipe my face clean. I take one last good look at the moon as it sits on top of the ocean. Every gray and white tone of the large rock can be seen; it is so close. It’s so beautiful.
“What in the goddess’s name is that?” I narrow my eyes at a shadow in the distance. I rub my eyes and blink, trying to see what I think I see. Yes, that’s a small ship in the distance. More of a boat, really. But a ship.
I never take my eyes off it as I climb back through the window and into the safety of my bedroom. It’s just like all of my dreams. A ship sailing to come and rescue me.
The longer I watch, the more I realize the boat isn’t coming closer to me, it is parallel, sailing across the ocean.
I plop down on the bed, suddenly exhausted, and light the candle near my bed. My eyes are swollen and puffy. All I want to do is sleep. No one has even noticed I’m not at the party yet, but they will, and I’m considering not being here when they come looking. But I do not have the energy to leave. I give up.
I do not care about my dream anymore. I no longer
have the energy to fight. So, I crumple down into my bed, in my gown and all, without even the strength to undress.
From this moment on, I no longer believe in love or dreams or destiny. I have no say in the path I’m to take in my life. Nothing has ever been more frustrating and terrifying. My parents do not want what is best for me. They only want what is best for them.
Exhaling a large breath, I turn to my side, giving the window my back. I tuck my hands under my head. My heavy swollen lids close, and as time passes, I sink into a sleepy state. I’m not asleep, but I’m well on my way.
Until drops of water hit my arm.
“What?” I yawn as I turn over. My eyes land on a hulking figure standing over my bed. My eyes trail up his torso. His clothes are soaked, drenching the wooden floors. When I get to his face, my breath catches. His long hair is wet, too, his eyes a little wide with surprise.
I know these eyes.
He puts his hand over my mouth and puts his finger to his lips.
“Don’t say a word.” His deep voice sends fear down my spine. That didn’t happen before. He made me feel safe, and in the quick moment we met, he made that aspect of dreaming of love real.
Now, I’m scared for my life. What could this man want with me?
Could this really be him? Could this be the true Trident?
Chapter Eleven
Trident
Shite.
You have got to be kidding me.
The princess is the woman I met last week? The woman I’ve come to kidnap is the woman that has had me waking up in the middle of the night with my hand around my cock and my spunk covering my chest? Just my luck. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen is my family’s worst enemy. The woman that made my heart beat out of my chest is someone I can never ever have feelings for.
Her eyes fill with tears, and her cheek are red, nearly matching her hair. I’ve frightened her, which was the plan, but now that I know who she is, I’ve never felt guiltier. I must do this though. I didn’t travel for three days to leave her and go back home empty handed. I need leverage. All the feelings I’ve ever felt for her must be locked away. This cannot happen.
She is the enemy.
“You’re coming with me. Do you understand that?” I lower my voice until it breaks from not being able to reach the baritone I want.
“Sit up.”
Her body is shaking, but she does as I tell her. Her hands grip the sides of the bed, and my eyes focus on how small her hands are and how her fingers curl around the edge. Her skin is pale and beautiful. I want nothing more than to feel her palms rubbing against my chest as she explores my body. I’ve dreamed it more times than I can count.
“I’m going to remove my hand. If you scream, well, don’t. You don’t want to know what will happen,” I mutter, knowing damn well nothing will happen. I’d never lay a hand on a woman, and there is no way in the goddess’s name that I’d ever hurt Sylvie.
She nods. The motion causes her tears to slip off her jaw. Before I can stop myself, I wipe the salty drops away with my thumb. She gasps, staring at me with confusion. Aye, I’m confused too. I had no idea she was the daughter of Lord Aland. If so, I may not have done this.
I drop my hand and watch her pink tongue flick over her dry lips to wet them. The flesh is a little swollen, either from my hand or her tears, I’m not sure, but I know one thing. I want them to be swollen from my kiss.
“What do you want?” she asks, lifting her head to give me a look that could kill a man.
Ah, she’s a defiant one. She has fire. I like that.
“You wouldn’t be able to understand. You’re coming with me, though.”
“I’ll do no such thing,” she scoffs.
I grab her by the arms and lift her up off the floor until she is eye level with me. “Oh, you will. Don’t force my hand.” It’s an empty threat, but I must get her out of this tower and onto that boat.
Her eyes swirl a deep green, and they turn to slits as they stare at me with contempt. She is fucking perfection. My eyes lower, locking onto the cushions of her breasts pushing against the material of her dress with every breath she takes. My mouth waters and my tongue twitches to have a taste. I want to glide my tongue along the mounds, seeing if they taste as creamy as they look. Goddess, she is beautiful.
“Trident,” she finally whispers. “I don’t understand why you are here.” Her eyes soften, and her chin wobbles. “I thought—”
“—You thought wrong,” I snap, silencing her. Leaving the question unanswered. It can never happen, no matter how the fire in my skin blazes to just take her and run so we can be together.
“Apparently,” she sneers and tries to jerk out of my hold. Her foot kicks the nightstand, and the candle that had been lit falls from its stand onto the floor. With fast reflexes, I toe the flame out with my boot, but I know the loud pound of my foot will draw attention.
“We need to go,” I mutter, holding onto her arm and drag her toward the window.
A loud pounding on the door interrupts my attempts.
“Sylvie! Open this door right now!”
“That must be your father,” I say, pushing her against the wall. I cover her mouth again. “You’ll tell him you’re changing and not feeling well.”
She doesn’t answer me.
I align our bodies together, and every inch of her body against mine feels so right. She is soft, and the feeling of her breasts against my chest causes my cock to harden. My girth settles in the space between her legs, and her breathing changes; her eyes dilate, and soon, she nods. Again, I release my hand and let her handle the situation.
Only I wish that meant my cock.
“I’m fine, Father. I’m unwell. I’m sorry. I’m in bed,” she shouts.
“Nonsense. Open this door!” He jiggles the handle.
“It’s my monthly,” she squeaks, her face reddening with embarrassment.
I think a woman’s body is beautiful and strong. There is nothing to be embarrassed about the blood that comes between her legs. It shows she is young and healthy. Fertile. It shows her strength. Women carry children. It can’t get stronger than that.
“Aye, I see. I apologize. I’ll check in on you later,” her father grumbles, sounding awkward.
I hold my hand over her lips again to keep her for calling out for help. With a move I didn’t expect, she clamps her teeth down on the thick skin of my palm. I hiss and try to yank my hand away, but the little vixen has me between her teeth good. She looks savage. A wild, untamed look in her eye and a snarl on her lips. She is determined to make me bleed.
“Unlock your jaw, woman.”
She bounces her eyebrows, staring at me with blinding confidence. As if daring me to do something about it.
“Let. Go. Do not forget that you have a Viking in your bedroom,” I growl, delivering another empty threat.
She doesn’t let go right away like I thought she would. It makes lust stir in my heavy sack that’s been aching for her for far too long. Much to my demise, she lets go, and the indentations of her teeth are in my hand. “The next time you bite me, it won’t be out of fear or revenge,” I say. “You’re coming with me. You are better off not fighting me, so don’t.” The threat is hanging in the air, but it works.
The stubborn woman nods, swallowing heavily.
I take the hand she bit and bring it to my mouth. It’s still shining, wet from her spit, but I know that this will be the only time I get to taste her. I lick the injured, bruised skin on my palm, gathering her essence onto my taste buds.
“You’re sick,” she gasps, trying to wiggle out of my grasp.
“You have no fucking clue,” I say, wanting, no needing her to be frightened of me, but her defiant nature is so fucking hot and maddening. I’m not sure if it makes me want to kiss her or strangle her. It’s frustrating but in a good way. I take a pair of iron shackles out of the bag hanging on my shoulder and clap them around her wrist and mine. “Can’t be too careful. I can’t have you running a
way from me.”
“Oh, this is ridiculous. Just how is this supposed to work? This is nonsense. I guess it is true what they say about the Vikings.”
“And what might that be?” I ask.
“That you’re all brawn and no brain.” She smirks. I want nothing more than to kiss her smile away until she is a withering mess against me.
I curl my lip and tug her close to me, wrapping my arm around her waist, and my fingers curl around her ribcage, right beneath the curve of her breasts.
“I guess you’ll just have to find out.” I carry her out of the window, slide down the roof and freefall until I land on my feet. She’s clinging to me, staring up at the roof and down at the ground a few times like she can’t believe I just did that.
She slaps my shoulder and chest with her free hand. “I can’t believe you just did that. You could have killed me!”
“Oh, suppose I wasn’t thinking,” I say, inching closer to her face.
“That’s not surprising,” she hisses back.
“You’re going to be nothing but a headache,” I mutter, dropping her to her feet. I start walking through the tall grass. It brushes against my arm, slightly tickling me. She is tripping behind me, not able to keep up with my long strides, so I change the pace and slow down. Only a little. I do not want her to think I’m too nice.
When we get to the shore, my ship is in the distance, rocking like a cradle in the waves.
“I hope you can swim.” I tug the chain between us, and she falls forward on her hands and knees in the shallow water. I smirk when I see her lips twitch with anger. I sink into the water and pull her to my side. Her body is wet. Every curve of her body is covered in water, leaving nothing to the imagination. Her hair is wet, slick against her skull, and she is spitting out saltwater.
She feels good against me. She fits right in the crook of my arm. The tide slowly carries us out. The light of the moon shines against her eyes, showing how green they really are. I turn away and start swimming, kicking my legs like a frog and stretching my arm out to push the water away. I cut through the water like a fish, Lady Sylvie dragging along right behind me.
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