“You aren’t sitting like a lady, Sassa. Good lord, how am I supposed to get a man to marry you when you run them all off?” My father chuffs, sipping tea from his small cup.
I’m used to this type of talk over our weekly breakfast routine. I keep my head tilted back and soak up the warm rays. “Perhaps. Now, here is an idea, don’t try to get me married. I’ll continue to run them off, and I’ll continue to sit like this until I have a good reason not to.”
“And having a husband that cares for you isn’t reason enough?”
I can feel his judgmental gaze searing into me, but I don’t open my eyes. I refuse to let his tone ruin the trance the sun has put me in. “Forcing me to love isn’t a reason, Father. Will you please let it go? It is such a nice day.” I continue to swing back and forth while my father sips on his tea.
I love him dearly, and I will never trade our weekly breakfast for the world, but there are some days where I wish he would not speak because every word that comes out of his mouth is about marrying me off, and for the life of me, I don’t understand why.
My body warms, and I feel a transcendent relaxation from the sun. I’m barely in the beginning stages of my hypnotic state when the sound of hooves pound against the ground like a stampede of wild animals. This is no stampede, though. Just a few horses.
I don’t open my eyes, though. Nothing is worth breaking this wonderful peace I feel. Until I hear a familiar voice.
“Your King will know who I am. Let me through.”
“You’re a Viking!” the guard shouts.
“The Viking,” the rough baritone replies. I can’t place the voice, but it slithers over my skin like something I know, something comfortable, like home and peace.
“Sassa, go to the castle now. Run!” my father orders, and it makes me jump from the swing and rub my eyes from sleep.
“What are you talking about?” I mutter, thinking I may have dreamed of the voice when I hear the familiar sound of hooves again. I turn my head to the front gate and see two men on the biggest horses I have ever seen get through the guards.
I stop breathing when I notice one of them. Hohlt. I watch as him and his beast come closer and closer, until his ice-blue eyes freeze my soul as he looks at me. He is a Viking! I should have known. I knew he was a warrior, but a Viking?
It is forbidden for a princess to interact with such brutality, but even with the small amount of fear flowing through my veins, I enjoy the feeling. I feel alive when he looks at me, but I know now that his attempts to seduce me meant nothing. The best night of my life is forever tainted by his motives. He never meant to care for me.
It was just a way for him to get close; but why? I look away from his handsome face, my heart dying from the betrayal. I hold back tears. I cannot let Father know that I know of this Viking or my integrity will already be questioned; more than it already is.
My father steps in front of me, breaking the stare of the cruel man that I once called a lover. “Grimkael Hohlt,” my father greets.
The name rocks my core. Grimkael Hohlt is one of the most notorious Warlords in our country. Everyone knows of him. I should have known from all the silver beads in his hair. I’m such a fool to be blinded by such lust. I kissed the enemy.
I felt his cock between the virgin lips of my pussy.
I tasted his tongue against mine.
And for what?
“Your Majesty,” Grimkael answers in return. “This is my second—”
“Einarr Hohlt. I know of him. The two brothers who own the land by claiming the dead,” my father snaps. “Your reputation precedes you.”
“Your Majesty,” the other Viking greets. His voice doesn’t affect my body like Hohlt’s does. Einarr, the brother, sounds haunted and dreary, something I won’t want to hear even in my worst nightmares.
“My brother and I have traveled far to request an audience. May we ask to join you this day?” asks Hohlt… Grim… Whatever his name is…. I should call him a liar. It is better suited.
I peek over my father’s shoulder, the sun blinding my eyes for a moment, and see the two Viking men jump off their horses. They are huge men, and the beasts they rode are the largest I have ever seen. Grimkael’s horse is a deep, resonant black while his brother’s is the color of a storm cloud. Both beasts have black eyes, dark, shining with bad intentions and evil.
I always loved horses, but those scare the hell out of me.
“You absolutely may not. You show up here on my land, my home, while I’m having breakfast with my daughter? How dare you!”
Grim smirks, the same smirk he gave me while we swam in the water. He catches my hard stare, and I blush. I hate how he affects me. His nostrils flare as if he can smell the desire between my legs that is just for him. I can’t help the reaction I have to the handsome man. But I shall not give in to it.
He strolls past my father and me with heavy, pounding steps that shake the ground under him, giving me a hungry look before sitting on the swing. The wood and chains creak from his weight, and he spreads his arms back, rocking back and forth. Grim is shirtless, with nothing but a leather belt around his waist and black, cotton pants. His biceps stretch and his chest is wide and strong, causing my eyes to drift to places they do not belong.
“I have an offer to make you, Your Majesty. I give you until dusk to decide.”
“And if I refuse?” my father asks, hiding me the best he can behind his back.
“You know me. You know my name. You know what I do. I’m not the kind of man to ask for something. So, if you don’t agree, do not think I won’t take it. Am I clear?” Grim’s black, menacing eyebrow tilts up. The way he speaks, the authority and strength oozing from his body, makes my knees threaten to give out from under me.
“I will not give you anything,” my father spits. My fingers curl into the silk of his shirt, grabbing onto him for dear life, afraid they will kill him for saying such things.
Grim tosses his head back and laughs. The sound is sardonic, but my nipples tighten in response, only making me that much more furious with the entire situation. Einarr starts laughing, too. The only ones who aren’t are me and my father.
“Did you hear that, Grim? He says he isn’t giving you anything.” Einarr pretends to wipe a tear from his eye.
Grim stands tall, towering over us like a strong tree. His body creates a large shadow, caging me in the darkness. His leather belt rubs against the swing as he stands, and he runs his fingers over his scruff again, pondering perhaps—he seems to do that a lot.
“I do hear that, Einarr. I do.” He walks around my father until he is behind me, placing his hand on my lower back.
I gasp when the hot iron of his palm sears my dress. I expect to go up in flames from the reaction I have, but he removes it as quick as he put it there. He circles back around and stands in front of my father again. “Remember, Leif. I’ve taken hundreds of villages. I’ve conquered Kings greater than you. I own the South, West, East, and all I am missing is the North.”
“No! This is my home!” I cry, trying to push past my father to wrap my hands around his gorgeous throat. “I’ll kill you before you can destroy it.”
“I haven’t had much of a reason to come here. You know what I do. I save women and children from horrible men, and while you don’t have the venom flowing your kingdom, you do have something I want.” Grim ends, grabbing the horn of his saddle and kicking his leg over the horse that stands nearly as tall as he does.
“And what is that?”
Grim smirks at me and points. “I want to wed your daughter. I want her to be promised to me, and in return, I won’t burn your home to the ground.”
“No!” my father screams. “I’ll give you anything else. Not my daughter.”
“I hear you want her married off,” Einarr states, cleaning the dirt under his nails with a blade.
“Not to the likes of him.”
“Oh, from what I hear, I’m the only man that can handle a mouth like your daughter has. I
’ll be back to collect what is mine before sundown. And don’t even think about running, because I’ll catch you.”
He kicks his heels in the horse’s side, and the beast rears up, kicking its hooves in the air to threaten whoever is around it to back away. “You have until dusk!” he screams over the loud bellow coming out of the horse’s gut.
The threat lingers in the air as the horses kick up dust and gallop away. Grim’s hair dances in the breeze as he rides, the same hair I had my fingers running through the other night. A part of me wants to go with Grim because of how he makes me feel, but the other part, the wiser part, knows better. He is a liar. A brutal, savage man that takes and takes until there is nothing left.
A deep part of my soul yearns for him to be my husband, though. I have never imagined myself as a wife, but I can see myself being his. It terrifies me, and the thought of him being with anyone else makes me see red. It makes me want to threaten death myself.
My father turns around to stare at me with the same blue eyes that I have. His entire body shakes, and his hand covers his mouth. “You will go and pack your things. You will be leaving at dusk with Grimkael Hohlt, the Warlord of the Vikings.”
My feet stumble from under me. “Father? Are you mad? You can’t be serious. You are bending to his will? You’re going to trade me? Your own daughter? Your own flesh and blood!”
“It is you or hundreds of other people. Plus, you will be married and taken care of.”
“To a Viking? How blind are you?” Tears stream down my face, not with the fear that Grim will hurt me—I know he won’t—but with how easily this decision came to my father.
I feel the deepest wound I have ever felt in my life. I feel betrayal.
“Do not argue with me. You are leaving! Stop being so selfish for once in your life and do something for me and your people.”
“Do something for you?” I spit, with fleeting sense and growing anger. “Do something? Why must I do for people that will never do for me! I hate you. I will hate you forever if you do this!” I have never said those words to my father, and I can tell they cut him deep. His eyes begin to water.
“That is something I will have to deal with. The army I have is not strong enough to battle the Vikings, Sassa. I’m sorry, but this is the only way.”
I push by him and run. I grab the hem of my dress and get as far away from him as I can. I hate that a part of me is excited to go to Grimkael, to be Grimkael’s, but the other part of me is angry. How dare they! How dare they treat me like I’m some sort of possession or property they can use to make a deal.
I hate them both.
I hate all men. This is why I always stayed away. Nothing good can come from this.
“Sassa!” Thyra screams my name to stop me, but it only makes me cry harder. My one and only friend will be taken away from me. I’ll have nothing. I’ll be going with a man I dreamt about, only to have my dream turn into my worst nightmare. “Sassa, wait!” she calls, but I run up the steps until I get to my room.
I slam the door with all my might, shaking the foundation of the frame from my anger, from my rage, from my pain. I scream and drop my head in my hands, feeling more alone than I ever have. I can’t believe my father would just hand me over like that.
My breath comes out in short pants, to the point where I can’t breathe. “Get it off,” I whisper quietly to myself and reach behind to try to take off this damn dress, but I can’t reach the stupid ties. “I need it off!” I sob, wailing into the loneliness of my room. I grab a pair of scissors off the dresser and cut from the top and all the way down until my skin hits the air.
I never want to wear anything like that again. I grab a white nightgown and pull it over my head, slip on my sandals, and grab my mother’s journal. Everything else I no longer need. I don’t want anything from this room.
How can my father claim to love me all my life and suddenly toss me aside like I never mattered? I open the window and climb out. The wind blows against my hair as I stare off into the distance. I’ll miss this view. I’ll miss how the stars twinkle above me and the night sky seems to sink, entrapping me in its everlasting capsule. I’ll miss Aala and Thyra, but other than that, nothing is keeping me here. I can get a view somewhere else, but I’ll never have a friend like Thyra.
I don’t even have time to say goodbye. I must go. I must go now. Maybe I can write to her. I can send a bird. This doesn’t have to be the end. No, it doesn’t.
The vines are wet from the early morning rain, so I slip a few times climbing down the wall. I hit the ground with a hard thud. After picking myself up, I slowly peek around the stone wall of the castle. It has always felt like a prison. Now, after today, I know it is one.
When I don’t see anyone, I take my chance and run. I keep a tight hold of my mother’s journal, grab the extra flow of my nightgown, and sprint through the fields to my mother’s special spot. A place that I will never have again.
Tears break free and dry just as quick as they land on my cheeks from how hard I run. Everything I have known is about to be ripped away from me. The only sanctuary I’ve ever felt is about to be a long-distant memory.
I will never go with Grimkael Hohlt willingly. I won’t be a wife that must do everything a man commands. It isn’t the kind of person I am. I will never forgive him for doing this to me. I do not care that I am attracted to him more than any other man I have ever met in my life. It will never be enough to reverse the damage he has done.
I break through the tree line, jumping over the logs that have laid in the same spot for decades. The sense of home evades me, and while I’ve never felt like I’ve belonged, I feel even more lost now.
My feet hit the ground hard, and my arms pump my body faster, away from the pain of what my life used to be. The river comes to view, and I debate if I want to stop and give a proper goodbye, but I decide against it. There is no time. I need to get as far away from this place as possible. I leap as hard as I can and fall in the middle of the river, soaking my gown to my bone. I crawl out on the other side of the riverbed, dirtying the thin cloth with mud. I push my hair back and start to look around for my mother’s journal when I realize I don’t have it in my hands any more.
Then an arm shoots out from a tree and wraps around my waist, muffling my cries with a large hand. “I knew you would run, Princess. I feel the need for freedom in your spirit, like me.”
I want to say I’m nothing like him, but when his body melds against mine, I feel my soul reaching for his. Another thing I won’t ever forgive him for.
Chapter Ten
Grim
She tries her best to get out of my hold, but the way I have my arms wrapped around her chest, she can’t get free. Her body is soaking wet from crossing the river, and the water is transferring to my own pants. The cotton sticks to my thighs, hugging the erection stretching down my leg.
Her ass rubs against me, and she gasps when she feels how thick I am for her. She stops fighting me, trying to catch her breath as she clutches onto my wrists. I lean back against a tree and Einarr comes out from the woods, staring down at us from his horse.
“I want you to go tell the King I have his daughter. He can consider us allies and his kingdom safe from the Viking wrath.”
Einarr nods before kicking the horse’s sides and taking off. The fast thunder of hooves pound against the ground as he rides away.
“You’re a monster!” she screams, wiggling that pert ass against me again. She can feel how much I want her. Sassa knows exactly what she is doing.
“Am I? What of the man that raised you? Handing you over without thought. I know why you ran.” I run my finger down her cheek. A few drops of water bead on the high peaks and I wipe them off, sucking my fingers into my mouth.
“I ran to get away from you,” she grunts through clenched teeth.
The bead of her nipple rubs against my arm, chipping away at my control. “I disagree. I think you were running toward me. I think—” I move the wet, burnt umber te
ndrils of her hair, and I place my lips against her ear to whisper, “—I think, you were running away from the place that cages you.”
“As if you are not that cage.” In a move I’m not expecting, she takes her elbow and shoves it into my gut. I double over, grunting from the sharp pain, and release my hold on her. She spins around and lifts her fist to hit me, but I straighten just in time and block her strike.
Wrapping my fingers around her wrist, I pin her hand to her stomach. I take in her appearance. Her cloth nightgown is sheer and is clinging to her body from being wet. Pink orbs stare at me through the dress. My mouth waters for a taste. She is such a beauty. Her body curves just right. She is slender, and her breasts are the perfect handful. I imagine myself sucking them and nipping them, marking them as mine.
A deep thunder rolls in my chest when the urge to claim hits me hard. It is like fate sculpted her out of my wildest dreams. “You steal my breath,” I whisper and pull her to my chest, keeping her arms bound and trapped in my hands.
She doesn’t fight me. Not this time. The raging madness she feels isn’t just madness, but lust so strong, it seems unattainable to have.
“You have stolen me,” she says with defiance and her chin up in the air, but she comes closer, pushing her breasts against my chest and teasing the puffs of her breath against my lips.
“I want you,” I mutter to her, moving forward, ever so slowly.
“So, you just take what you want? Without asking?” her eyes fall to my lips, her voice low, smothered in lust, sultry and dripping with sex.
I cup my hand around the base of her neck and cup the back of her head. My thumbs brush along her delicate jawline, and my head drops of its own accord, pulled by the hypnotic force of her lips. “I asked. You ran. I caught you.”
“You gave an ultimatum.” She leans back, toying with me, getting out of reach of my kiss. I can take her if I really want to, but I enjoy the game she is playing.
An inhuman growl leaves my throat, and I spin us around until her back is against the tree. I drop a hand and grip her thigh, pushing her dress up her leg as I grip the meat of her hip. “I know what I want, Princess. And I want you.”
Vikings' Brides Box Set Page 6