I dislodge her hand. “Not like this.”
“I want to feel good.” Her eyes tear, and that bottom lip quivers. I hate it when it quivers. It’s my undoing. “Just make me feel good. Please,” she begs, placing her lips on mine. “Please.”
Like I can ever say no to the woman I love.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sassa
I’ve never felt so lost before. I want to feel grounded again. I want to feel something other than pain and sadness. I want Grim to take the pain away.
“Sassa, not here,” he says. “Take me to the place you love most.” His eyes are searching mine, trying to convey where he wants us to go.
One hand grabs the skirt of my dress, and the other grabs his hand, and we run. We run down the steps and out the door, running through the gate, past Kai and Achim, and through the freshly bloomed fields of lavender. My heart pains for a moment, knowing this is where my father gets the flowers to set in water to relax me.
I don’t think about it too much. I just keep going. I keep running until we break through the tree line, jump over the old logs that have been there since before I was born, and feel the arms of the branches strike our arms. We run through a home that was never ours to begin with—but rather, nature’s.
We break through to the clearing, and my hand goes to my heart. I’ve missed it so. It’s where I come to relax, to be, to escape, to think. It’s my home away from home. The river has risen from the snow melting and spring coming. A deer grazes on the other side with a fawn. The sun peeks through the tips of the trees; the rays glittering off the surface of the water. Birds sing their beautiful song as I lean my hand against my mother’s tree.
I already feel better and happier, and that’s when I realize that is what he wanted to do for me. Grim doesn’t want to have sex while I’m feeling so down, so he thought of the only place that can bring me happiness in such dark times.
“How did you know?” I ask as I try to steady my breath from running.
“I haven’t had time to show you yet, but back home, there is a spot I go to escape life when it becomes just a bit too much.”
“You do?”
“I do.” He removes his sword, lays it on the cushion of the grass, and sits, leaning his back against the tree. “It’s beautiful. About a mile into the woods if you go down the cliffs first. Longer if you go the long way through the woods. It’s a beautiful hot spring. It feels so good when the hot water boils against my skin, taking away the worries, alleviating the pain.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” I flatten my dress over my rear out of habit. I don’t have to act like a lady out here. I lace my arm through his, laying my head against his shoulder.
“I don’t know. A lot has been going on, and I haven’t been to it recently.”
The water splashes against the rocks, bringing a tune of relaxation to my troubled mind. “I’d love to see it.”
His hand lands on mine, and he turns it over, tracing the lines of my palm with his finger. “If you want us to stay here, we shall. I will move my people. The hot springs mean nothing if it means your happiness is sacrificed.”
“Always such a poet,” I tease.
“Tell no one. I have a mean, brutal reputation to uphold.”
“My lips are sealed.” I lock my lips with a fake key and toss it into the water.
A few minutes go by, and the deer lifts her head, ears forward and alert, staring at us as she chews the mouthful of grass. A rabbit bounces in front of us, and I touch Grim’s shoulder, pointing the tiny creature out to him.
“That would be some good eating,” he comments.
“Oh!” I punch him this time, playfully and somewhat serious. I’ve eaten rabbit before, but I haven’t spoken about it right in front of the cute, fluffy creature. “Don’t be rude. He is right there.”
“You act like he can understand us.”
“He might, you never know.” I think about his words from a few moments ago and sigh. “I don’t know what I want, Grim. I don’t know if I want to stay or go. Nothing makes sense right now. I feel as though I should stay here because this is my family home. This is where my father was born, where I was born. Where he will die. But at the same time, I want nothing to do with it. I don’t want to look at the hallways where my father used to chase me as a little girl, but leaving it behind? The pain is suffocating when I think of it.”
He kisses me on the cheek. “I want you to know there is no rush. I don’t ever want you to think I’m rushing you to work out your emotions.”
“Thank you.” I spin around and straddle his lap. “Thank you for turning out to be the exact opposite of what I thought you were.”
“What did you think I was?”
“A cold-blooded Viking who cared for no one but himself.”
“Don’t sugar-coat it for me,” he mumbles. “And I am cold.”
“Not to me.” I nip his ear.
His arms slide up and down my back, hooking his fingers at the base of my skull. “Never to you. You are the only one I save my warmth for. And maybe a little for Einarr.” He winks, and his long lashes fan over the tops of his cheek. I don’t know what it is about the move that makes me blush, but it makes me feel like an innocent virgin again.
“Shall we go back?” he asks, dropping his chin on my shoulder.
“Just a little longer. I feel better when you hold me,” I admit, closing my eyes and relishing in the warmth and safety Grim offers.
“That is no hardship. I love holding you.”
I start to feel drowsy, like I’ve drank too much wine, when I haven’t drunk anything at all. Unable to keep my head up, I curl myself into his body more and shut my eyes. His scent wanders into my nostrils again, and I float into a dream.
I’m not sure how long we stay like that, but the next time I open my eyes, the sun is setting.
Panic rips through my body like fury in a sword. When I lift my head, I notice Grim is asleep still. We must have been out here for hours. “Father,” I whisper. Oh, no.
“Grim! Grim, wake up. We need to go!” I shake him by the shoulders and he ruses, blinking away sleep.
He doesn’t seem to know where he is, but when I come into view, he relaxes. “How long were we out?”
“Long enough. The sun is setting.”
He hears the urgency in my tone and picks me up in his broad arms, running out of the woods. “What are you doing? I can run!”
“I can run faster. We must return to your father. I’m so sorry, Sassa. I did not know we would be gone that long.” I know the tone he is using, and it is full of guilt. “I should have been better.”
“You’re perfect. You made me feel so much better. Only you can do that.” I hold on tight to his arms as he dashes through the lavender again. The relaxing scent swirls around us, and the sense of calm makes the worries dim. Kai and Achim are still standing at the gate, but they stand apart to let us through, not questioning anything this time.
Still, they are out of here when I take over.
We slow when we notice Einarr and Thyra’s father, Lord Troy having a heated conversation. The deadly look in Einarr’s eyes sends chills down my spine. Thyra runs out of the house and grabs her father, pulling him back inside and slams the door. Einarr spins on his heels and sprints toward the stables.
Hooves plummet against the ground. Grim pulls us out of the middle of the road, as Einarr bolts through on his steed. He looks like he is about to kill something.
“I need to go after him and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid,” Grim says.
“Yes, that’s fine. I shall check on Thyra and see what happened.”
“I love you.” He plants a smoldering kiss on my lips, robbing my soul straight out of my body. It’s his, now.
“I love you, too. Be careful.” Our hands try to stay joined the farther he walks away from me. I let go when he gets too far to hold on to. When he is out of sight, I pick up the skirt of my dress and run to Thyra’s door, a
nd knock.
“What did I tell you? No Viking is coming near my daughter!” Thyra’s father shouts from behind the door. The sound startles me.
I jump back from the unexpected tone and clear my throat. “It’s me, sir. It’s Sassa. I was wondering if Thyra would like to join me for some tea.”
The door opens, and Lord Troy, her father, stares at me with softness he only reserves for women. “Lady Sassa, of course. My apologies. I thought it was that Einarr again.”
“Einarr is a good man. He risked his life for mine.” I straighten my spine and pin my shoulders back. Einarr is one of my people, my friend. I won’t have Lord Troy bad-mouthing him.
“Lady Sassa, I know your marriage was brought to you by unfortunate circumstances, but you can’t really say you like those people. They are savages.”
“They are good, noble men. You don’t know them; they aren’t like other men. They do good in this country. They aren’t your normal Vikings.”
“You’d stick up for them after their leader threatened your dying father with war if he didn’t have you?”
“That was unfortunate, but it has been the best decision of my life. I’m happy I am with him. Thyra would be the most protected woman in the country, by two warlords. It doesn’t get safer than that.”
“Einarr is a warlord?” he asks with a raised brow, changing his tune.
“He is new. Grim just promoted him.”
“That’s a very high rank.”
“The highest,” I reply to him. “Now, may Thyra and I go for tea?”
He lets out a defeated sigh and opens the door wider to let Thyra out. “No talking to that Viking until I know more about him.” He turns his eyes away from his daughter and looks at me. “And my apologies about your father. He has been my greatest friend since we were children. It shall be a sorrowful day when he passes.”
“It’s already sorrowful,” I reply with a bit of attitude, and then I stomp away. I don’t want to talk about it any longer.
With Thyra at my side, we enter the castle and take a left toward the kitchen. Some of the maids try to stop me, but I order them away. I fill the pot with water and bring it over the fire to boil. “Are you alright?” I ask.
“Me? I should be asking that about you. Don’t mind me; I can handle my father and Einarr.”
“I’ll be fine. I always am. So, you and Einarr?” I change the subject because the last thing I want to do is talk about how I am feeling about my father’s death. How does everyone think I feel? It’s like I’m dying myself every single day, only to wake up with the gift of life.
“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think so. I think he is just trying to be my friend. A man like that?” She shakes her head. “What would a man like that want with a woman like me?”
“Do I really need to explain that to you?” I pour the water inside two cups along with a few tea leaves and let them soak. After the water turns green, I dip a spoon in the cup and fish them out.
Her face flushes from my insinuating question. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do. The man is absolutely head over heels for you. I don’t see how you don’t see that, Thyra.”
“It’s hard to believe when I’ve never had a reason to,” she states, folding her hands in her lap as I push the mug to her.
I can relate to how she feels. I’ve never had a reason to think a man would want me either. It may not be in the same sense as she is explaining, but it had the same effect. “I think your reason is Einarr, Thyra.”
Mine is Grimkael.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Grim
I follow behind Einarr as he rides down the rolling pastures. He is riding without control, letting loose and letting the wind take him wherever he wants to go. He needs to stay on the King’s land; anything out of bounds can mean our heads.
Beast digs his hooves into the ground, bolting through the fields to catch up to him. The wind stings my face along with the fresh drops of rain falling from the thunderous cloud above. We finally catch up to Einarr, and he is staring ahead in a trance.
“Einarr!” I shout over the rumble in the sky and the roar pounding against the ground from the horses. “Einarr!”
But he can’t hear me. He is in his head, losing himself in his mind. I reach forward, having to balance my weight on the saddle to make sure I don’t fall. If I do, I’m most likely dead from the heavy weight of the horses.
I stretch, reaching for the wet reins. “Einarr!” A cliff is coming up, and it is coming up fast. The grass starts to disappear until we are running on dirt and then small rocks. My hand finally wraps around the reins, and I pull. Jasmine rears her legs up, and Beast whips his head back, skidding to a stop a few feet away from the cliff.
Spit sprays from my lips as I collapse against Beast. I straighten my back, gasping for air, and let the rain cool me down from the impending doom I was about to feel. If I had decided not to chase Einarr, would he be dead right now?
“Grim?” Einarr whispers.
I turn my head to see him looking at his hands holding the reins and then glance at me with confusion. “Where am I?”
He hasn’t blacked out from rage in fifteen years. “I don’t know where we are, but you took off after you had a few words with Thyra’s father. You wouldn’t listen to me. I tried calling for you, but—”
“I didn’t hear you. All I heard was his words in my ear, drowning out everything around me. I wanted air. I needed to get away.”
“So, you decided to run toward a cliff? That would have been a painful death, my friend.”
“I didn’t know,” he whispers. “He said he would rather die than to see his daughter with a Viking. He thinks I would use her and treat her like trash like other men would. I’d treat her like the finest silk. I’d never hurt her with these hands.” He stares down at his large, scarred palms. “He said, a man that looks like me can’t offer a good life for a woman such as Thyra.”
If I was standing in front of that man right now, I’d kill him myself. Einarr is the toughest, bravest man I know. Yes, he has scars, but only the best carry the worst of them. “Prove him wrong, Einarr. You might have to go about this a different way. These aren’t our people. They were raised differently. You must use their rules.”
“Fuck their rules! I’m a Viking. I play by no man’s rule,” he spits. “Thyra is meant to be mine, and she knows it! I feel it in my bones. When she isn’t near, I ache.”
I almost fall off my horse when Einarr says how he feels. The feelings he has for her must be intense because he never speaks like that.
“He will make it complicated. I should take her back to the village.”
“Now, Einarr. That isn’t the best idea when we might be staying here.”
“What?” he roars. “If we stay, I shall never be able to have her.”
“You don’t know that. I can’t say what will happen, because it is up to Sassa. This is her home.”
“What about our home?” he asks.
“I don’t know, Einarr. We should know soon. But until the King passes, I’m afraid I don’t have any answers for you.
“Aw, are the little Vikings homesick?” a voice mocks us from behind.
Einarr and I drop from our steeds and get our swords ready. The rain is coming down in heavy sheets now, causing a drape of fog.
“I know you,” I say, twirling my sword in my hand to prepare for battle.
“Aye, but do you know us?” He spreads his arms out, and a dozen more men come out of the trees. “I don’t think you’d be able to beat all of us, Grim. Too many Voids for you to take on.”
“So, you’re the betrayer.”
“Someone had to be,” he says with a shrug.
Of course, it all makes sense. It isn’t any of my people. The culprit is here, right under our noses, sneaking off information to his leader.
“You are good in deceit,” I say to the traitor.
“I’m better at battle.”
The dozen
men circle around us. Einarr and I give each other a look that says we may not make it out of this. Thirteen against two. The odds aren’t in our favor. But I don’t care if it takes my last breath, I shall kill this guard for turning his back on his King. On his princess.
On my wife.
He is supposed to be protecting the gate, but instead, he wants to overthrow it. Einarr and I are back to back, walking in circles, holding out swords in front of us as they close in. “It’s been good serving with you, Brother,” I say.
“Until the end.”
“Until the end,” I repeat, before releasing a cry that can only belong to a warlord.
My sword clashes with one man. I get him right in the chest. I kick his body away and elbow a man that came from behind, flipping my sword under my arm to stab him in the gut. I pull back, swinging it out like a fan, grazing another enemy’s stomach. I look to see Einarr fighting with two swords. He must have disarmed one of our enemies.
Good idea.
I bend over and grab a fallen man’s weapon, rolling out of the way as silver comes crashing down into the mud. When I get up, I notice it is the guard, the quiet one.
“What’s your name, Jackal?” I spit.
“Achim, and I am no longer a Jackal!” he roars, charging me with murderous intent.
I spin out of the way to avoid what could be a deadly blow. His sword hits the ground again, this time getting stuck in the mud.
“Why are you doing this?” I shout over the wind and rain. Another one of his men charges at me, and I take care of it with a quick blow to the head with the handle of my blade.
There are about four Jackals left—or Voids, whatever they want to call themselves, I don’t care. This is why people do not battle warlords.
“I hate the King and his mouthy daughter. Do you know how many times I wish I could cut her tongue out! They think they are better than me, better than us.”
“I’m nothing like you.” I hit his sword with mine when he points it at me.
“You’re more like me than you think.”
Vikings' Brides Box Set Page 19