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Vikings' Brides Box Set

Page 57

by Jessica Knight


  “How is she doing? I’ve spoken to Leiva, and she says in a day or so, Lilith shall be able to leave the medical corridor. I wanted to let you know she is staying in the castle. All I’m concerned about is the room she is staying in is upstairs. All the rooms on the main floor are being worked on. Freaking Jericho and his launching obsession. He launched a bloody fucking tree trunk through the wall, trying out the new catapult. Nearly tore down the entire east wing. Damn fool.”

  I toss my head back and laugh, Jericho is such a destructive person. Lord Grimkael found him in the next village over, throwing fireballs into a nearby river. The man is… interesting, to say the least. He is a wrecking ball of dangerous, spontaneous energy. Not many people scare me, but I won’t lie and say he doesn’t make me nervous. He is so reckless all of the time.

  “Well, I can talk to Leiva and see if Lilith can stay with me. She seems to be at the point where I can care for her if need be. She doesn’t have to stay in the medical wing.”

  “Do you think that’s a good idea? Considering she doesn’t remember you?”

  I look down at her face, peaceful with a slight smile, and push her hair back. “She remembers me. Maybe not in her mind, but in her heart, she does.” I know because I see it when I say certain things or when she says certain things.

  “I hope you are right. You have my blessing for her to stay with you. Ask Leiva.”

  “That tiny woman scares the life out of me sometimes. She reminds me of my mother.”

  “She reminds all of us of our mothers,” Lord Grimkael grumbles. “That woman lays down the hammer. I don’t envy you, Wulf.” He slaps my back, nearly making me stumble with Lilith in my arms. It isn’t easy making me lose my footing, but he can.

  “Thanks for the support,” I pause at the foot of the steps at the castle. Now that the idea of her staying with me is lodged in my mind and her breath is puffing against my neck as she sleeps, I don’t want to let her out of my arms. I don’t want to give her back to Leiva.

  “I know that look. Don’t do that, Wulf. If you are ever injured and need stitches or worse, Leiva isn’t the woman you want to piss off.”

  With those parting words, he climbs up the steps ahead of me and pounds up the winding staircase inside where his Lady awaits him in their chambers.

  Lord Grimkael is right. If I am ever in medical need, Leiva can either let me die or save me. I do not want to piss her off. Sighing, I drag my feet up the stairs, nodding to Erik, who is still on post by the door. I take a left and carry my Angel to her bed, but I don’t put her down. Not wanting her out of my arms yet, I walk down the hall and see Leiva in her cave. That’s what I call it. It’s a dark room with candles placed strategically in the middle of all the flat surfaces to provide the perfect amount of light.

  Leiva is there, crushing herbs and spices to make her secret paste. It does wonders on cuts and deep wounds. It’s saved my skin a hundred times.

  “Leiva.” My voice rumbling causes Lilith to stir.

  “Beowulf,” Lilith sighs on a fractured breath as she exhales, nestling her cheek against my heart.

  Oh, I’m here, Angel. I’m right here.

  Leiva places the wooden bowl aside and wipes her hands on her apron. “Sir Wulf? Is she okay?” Leiva rushes over to my side and place her hand against Lilith’s forehead.

  “She’s fine. She pushed herself too hard. She’s asleep.”

  “Oh, good. You can lay her down on the bed next to where she was. I must wash her blankets.” I’m always so surprised with Leiva because she is young, around my age, with big blue eyes and light copper hair. But she has an air about her that is old like she has lived a thousand lives. Hell, perhaps she has.

  I clear my throat and shuffle my weight on each leg.

  “Out with it, you big brute.” She doesn’t even look up at me as she goes back to making her paste. How does she know I’m still here? “You’re blocking my natural light, Wulf,” she huffs, reading my own mind. The woman truly does terrify me.

  “Right, sorry, Leiva.” I step to the side to let the sun through, keeping Lilith’s head against my chest, so the piercing rays don’t fall over her face and wake her. “I was hoping Lilith could come home with me. I can take care of her there.”

  She stops crushing the plants into the mixture and brings her calculating gaze to mine. “I don’t know. She must eat soon. Can you handle feeding her? Bathing her? Well, she might be able to bathe herself now. She needs this paste on her wounds. I’ve been putting it on her back too, and some of the scars have gotten better.”

  I step forward and bow slightly. “I shall do whatever it takes. Whatever. It. Takes.” I punctuate each word, so I hope she hears how serious I am. I’ll take a blood oath. I’ll do whatever she needs to prove to her I can take care of my angel.

  “Fine. One slip-up and she comes back here.”

  I nearly run out of the door. I must be quick before Leiva changes her mind. “Wulf!” she yells, and I slide to a stop, my shoulders sagging. She taps my shoulder, and begrudgingly, I turn around.

  “Oh, wipe the sadness off your face. You need the paste.” She hands me a big jar of bright green goo. “You’re a goner. The mighty Beowulf, stricken by the arrow of love.” She cups my face as a mother would do and smiles softly. “I’m happy for you. It’s good to see you loving someone over killing them.” Her cold hands pat my face before turning around and shuffling away.

  I readjust my hold on Lilith and move her up my chest a bit more until her head is laying on my shoulder. Goddess, I never thought in a million years I’d have this chance again, and I’m not going to let it go to waste.

  No one shall stand in my way. Once she loves me because she will, I’ll ask her to run away with me if the kingdom becomes too much and turns against us. We don’t need anything here. We only need us. We only ever needed us.

  She shall never want for anything as long as I live and breathe. We’ll be happy. She’ll be round with my children, giving me beautiful and strong sons and daughters. Warriors and Ladies. They will be strong like me and kind like their mother.

  And even if I must fight, I shall always return home to her. We will still make love and kiss each other goodnight. We will tell each other what we mean to one another.

  Because if anything were to happen to either of us, I want to be able to say I kissed the love of my life one last time; told her I loved her one last time.

  Because I’ve learned that no one ever truly knows when the last time will be.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lilith

  I nestle into the soft fur and moan at how soft and plush it is as it rubs against my skin. I do not remember my bed feeling this good. Sighing, I reach behind me to grab another blanket and pull it over me, only for it to be an arm. A big, massive, hairy arm.

  My eyes widen, and I scramble to the side, a loud screech leaving my mouth.

  “What? What is it? What’s wrong?” Beowulf bolts forward, sword in hand, and looks around the room for any signs of a threat. His hair is messy, mused by sleep, and early morning. His eyes, blue as ever, are still glassy and full of exhaustion. He turns to me, and the fatigue I just saw in him disappears. He is alert, ready to defend me.

  “Are you hurt?” he asks.

  I place my hand against my chest and feel my heart racing. “Just surprised. I didn’t expect to wake up here with you next to me.” My cheeks heat when my eyes lower and see that he has his shirt off. His pecs curve and swell from the muscle defining his chest. Dark hair covers his entire torso, but it isn’t thick, and it gets thinner over his abs until it is a narrow path beneath his pants. I swallow, placing my hand against my neck when a sudden warmth flares between my thighs. Squeezing my legs together, I turn away from him and hope he doesn’t notice.

  The blade hitting the floor lets me know he has lowered his weapon. Something about him being so vigilant and protective does something to my body. Heats it. Makes it yearn for something I’ve never felt before. I try and look a
way, but I can’t stop looking at his abs and how carved out they are. His hips… he has the perfect V disappearing down his pants, leading to—what probably is—the mightiest cock a man could have.

  My mouth goes dry.

  I’ve never seen a man’s privates before. I swallow hard when I think about how big Beowulf’s must be since he is big everywhere else.

  “Lilith? What’s going on?” His fingers caress my chin and lift my head. “Look at me, Angel.”

  I don’t know when I must have shut my eyes, but when I open them and do as he says, he is close, so close, and it robs my breath from my lungs. I have to trail my eyes up his body to meet his questioning stare. It only makes the burning in my veins for him worse because now I can see freckles on his skin and how his nipples are a light pink and not a red like I imagined them to be.

  “I’m fine,” I rasp, scooting back again to put some space between us. “What am I doing here?” I look around the small cabin to distract myself from his half-naked presence. It’s so hard not to look. I want to look. I need to look.

  I won’t.

  But I really want to.

  So I do. My resolve crumbles, and temptation gets the best of me. He stretches his arms above his head and groans, his muscles shifting in the low evening light. My eyes nearly roll to the back of my head hearing that sound. It’s easy to imagine him moaning in my ear while he—

  “This is your house?” I croak quickly, interrupting my own thoughts before I get an image in my head that I can’t get out.

  Who am I kidding? It’s too late for that. I’m a lost cause.

  “It is. I know it isn’t much, it’s just me, but Leiva said you could heal here now since you are stronger. I can care for you.”

  “Why would you want to do that?” I crinkle my nose a bit, truly wondering why he would want to spend his time taking care of me. I’d burden his time more than I already have. “I cannot accept this. It is very kind of you, Beowulf, but I cannot do that to you.”

  “You aren’t doing anything to me that I’m not choosing to do. I wish to care for you. How can you not get that yet? I’ve spent twelve years without you. A second away from you is too much. I’m still processing that you’re here. I’m afraid…”

  He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I’m afraid if I blink, you’ll be gone, and then I’ll be wondering if all of this was a dream.”

  Anxiety clenches my core. His presence is overwhelming. His need to protect me and care for me is unknown. All I remember are cages and whips. It’s hard to accept anything else when I can’t remember anything else.

  “I don’t know what you want from me, Beowulf.” The words ghost over my lips, painfully, causing my insides to twist and turn. He isn’t pushing me to remember anything, but I feel pressure regardless. Not only am I pressuring myself, but his hope that I will have a memory is heavy to carry. “I must go get some air.”

  “Wait a minute. I don’t want anything from you, Angel. I just want to be here for you.”

  “Stop calling me that!” I scream through watery eyes. I love it when he calls me that, but I can’t take it anymore. It hurts. It hurts so much that he sees this woman from his past, but I’m not that woman anymore. He isn’t calling me that loving nickname, he is calling her that.

  “Please.”

  But I have no idea what I’m beginning for. I sob and push away from him, running out the door. I stumble a bit, trying to get my feet under me, and then he is there at my side, holding me up around my waist with his strong arm.

  “What are you doing? I need air. Air away from you. Air you aren’t breathing.”

  “Sorry, Angel. Not going to happen. You’re on my watch. I take care of you. I’m not letting you go out here alone.” I try and ignore how his fingertips brushing against my ribs tickle—in a good way—and the tingles they send down the side of my body.

  My bottom lip trembles, but I keep calm. He doesn’t understand how mixed up I am inside.

  “Thank you,” I say. I am grateful. I truly am. And I never meant to sound like I didn’t appreciate everything he has done for me, but I’m just as frustrated as he is hopeful. I just want to remember my life already. I want to remember my parents, or if I had any siblings, or if I ever kissed anyone before. I want to remember something.

  Anything that doesn’t involve iron bars.

  But life is only kind in pinches it seems, so I shall just have to wait for the next one. I tilt my head back as we walk out of the woods. The sun feels so good.

  “Wait, just wait a moment.” I close my eyes and let the heat warm my skin. A small smile falls on my face. I’m relaxed and energized at the same time. I almost feel drunk off mead but feel that I can take on the world.

  “You’ve always loved the sun,” Beowulf says in awe.

  “I know that must be true. I can feel it.” So this is what I’ve been missing all these years? A strong warrior and the sun? I never want to live in the dark again.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  I snap my eyes open and catch him staring at me. He snaps his head away and clears his throat, embarrassed that he got caught. He lifts me back up until I’m standing straight again, and he takes his arm away. I miss his touch immediately. Now, I’ve pushed him away, and I’ve set uncertainty between us.

  “You really think I’m beautiful?” I ask him, hoping to shake the uneasiness in the air.

  He lifts one shoulder and runs his big hand through his long brown hair. “From a friend, yes, you’re beautiful.”

  I pinch my brows, letting his odd choice of words roll around in my head. “From a friend? Who else would it be from?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Something.”

  He sighs, exasperated. “Nothing, Lilith.”

  Lilith. I’m Lilith now? Since when? Sure, the nickname threw my off and messed me up for a moment. I got confused by all the emotions swirling inside me, but I loved that nickname. I don’t want to be Lilith to him. I want to be his Angel again.

  “Beowulf, please,” I reach for him, but he takes a step back.

  “You asked what I wanted from you, but what is it that you want from me? You want my friendship? You want my love? You don’t want it? I tell you what I want, and you don’t want it. I want to take care of you. It’s as simple as that.”

  “I’m just as confused as you are. This isn’t easy for me. I’m not expecting to be magically cured like you are hoping me to be—”

  He cuts me off by pointing his finger in my face “—Never have I said I wanted you to be magically cured. You don’t have to remember. I can remember for the both of us. Do I hope for it? Yes. I’m just glad you’re alive and back. I can’t imagine everything you are dealing with, but for fuck’s sake, Lilith, you aren’t the only one dealing.”

  “I’m the only one dealing! You are not the one with the absent memory!” I yell. It rings out in the air, startling a few birds in the early dawn.

  “No, I’m just dealing with someone who—who fights me every step of the way for me to take care of her.”

  “I can take care of myself. I’m not helpless. I can get better on my own.”

  I stomp my foot like a child and cross my arms. I hate to feel weak. Having someone taking care of me this long without being able to walk was torture enough. It is time for me to get on my own two feet without being fussed over.

  “I know you are capable of taking care of yourself, but I want to do that until you are back healed and strong. Until you are back to yourself again.”

  My blood starts to boil, and at this point, I don’t even know why. He is right. But I have lived too long being controlled, being locked up, being told by men what to do, and even though I barely remember it, I remember enough to know I won’t let anyone do that to me again. Not even Beowulf.

  I can’t handle this right now. I decide to go for what I know will hurt the most, all while knowing it is breaking my own heart too.

  “I don’t even know you!”

&nbs
p; My soul tears apart as soon as the words leave my mouth. My world stops spinning. The air feels colder than usual. The sun is gone, matching my mood, and snow clouds replace the blue sky. Everything seems to start freezing in time.

  Winter has come, snow is falling, and Beowulf’s expression is just as cold as the air around me.

  He steps forward, bending down until the heat of his breath warms my lips and snarls, “You know me better than anyone.” His eyes glisten, but I convince myself into thinking it’s the flick of the sunlight changing into a dooming gray. “Better than fucking anyone.”

  He leaves me there, with guilt tearing up my eyes as I watch his large figure walk away from me.

  What did I just do? Did I ruin the only thing good to come out of this new life I have because of fear? Beowulf doesn’t understand how frightened I am. I’m afraid I’ll never remember anything good. I’m afraid all I will ever remember is the horrible pain and fear of everything bad that happened in the last decade of my life. He doesn’t understand that I want all the memories of us so I can fully grasp how he feels.

  But I want to fully grasp how I feel too, and I can’t, not without remembering.

  Chapter Twelve

  Beowulf

  It’s been three days since our fight. Three days without her laugh, smile, and the scent of her hair. Three days since she told me she really didn’t need me. Three days since she told me I was practically a stranger to her. Aye, it hurt so fucking much. I just wanted to be close to her. Is it so wrong?

  She still stays at my cabin, and I sleep outside in the wilderness on a bed of sticks and leaves. I stay close enough to protect her, but far enough away where I know I won’t bother her. I’m too hurt, too proud to confront her, and I know that she is too.

  Well, the Lilith I used to know would be. Perhaps I do not know her like I think I do. Maybe this is fate’s way of telling me I need to let go. She’s back. That part of my life can be closed. Just the thought of doing that makes me sick. I wasn’t able to move on before, and now that she is back? There’s no way I can now.

 

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