“I love you. I love you. I love you,” he chants under his breath every time he slides in to the hilt.
“I love you, Beowulf.” My mouth falls open, the air is falling from my lungs faster than I can breathe it in, my skin is wet with sweat, but I never want to stop. The heat in my body climbs. I cling to him. Lightening cracks, muting the scream that leaves me from another orgasm.
It sends Beowulf over the edge too. His teeth sink in the curve of my shoulder, grunting with every rope of warm come that heats my core.
We stay in the position, gasping for air, bodies trembling, and our hearts pounding profusely. Everything we feel for one another is a barrier around us; nothing can get in, nothing can get out, nothing can break us.
“I killed your father,” he whispers, finally breaking into tears.
And then what keeps me safe in his arms, shatters. I can’t help but wonder if I ever really knew the man in front of me at all.
Chapter Twenty-One
Beowulf
I hadn’t known another way to say it. After what we just shared, the way our bodies connected, I knew I had to tell her the truth. A better time wouldn’t have been mere moments after we had made love, which was exactly what we just did, but my world was laid bare to her, and the only way to stay true to the love I had for her was to just spit out the truth.
I knew the moment the words left my mouth; I lost her. She scurries away from me, back against the wall, and she grabs for her dress, trying desperately to cover up the body she gifted me with a few moments ago.
“Let me explain—” I pull my pants up to cover my nudity. It doesn’t seem like the time to be exposed.
“—Explain yourself?” she scoffs. “Explain? You had plenty of opportunities to explain yourself. Plenty, Beowulf. I can’t believe you. All this time, I’ve wondered, I’ve asked, I’ve cried over my father’s death, and not only did you know, but you did it.” She sobs, covering her mouth with her hand. I reach for her, but she slaps my hand away. “Don’t touch me.”
“Angel—”
“Don’t call me that!” she cries.
“He tried to kill me. I was only defending myself. He was angry about our friendship. Please, I would never just kill someone you love. You know me better than that.” I crawl on my knees toward her, trying to be as close to her as I can without physically touching her.
“I thought I did,” she whispers, her eyes glossed over and fixated on the floor in a daze. “But the Beowulf I know wouldn’t have kept this from me for so long.”
“I only kept it from you because—”
“I know. You didn’t want to lose me. I know my father was an arsehole. I grieved him because he was my father, but I don’t miss him. It’s all the covering up you did, the betrayal, the lying. How could you watch me cry?”
“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” I hang my head in misery. “So many times, I wanted to tell you.”
“And you tell me after we make love like that?” she snaps, and I can hear her heart breaking with every word.
When we were having sex this time, something was different. The energy, the emotions. I wasn’t sure if it was me giving off how much I needed her, but we clung to each other. We were closer than ever before, and selfishly, I’m glad I got to experience it with her because I know I’ll never experience it again. “I needed you.”
“I needed my Beowulf! The one that doesn’t only look out for himself.” She stands, slithering her body back into her dress. Slowly, her long legs are covered, the blonde bush above her pussy disappears under the material, and her breasts are pushed up from the tightening of the string in front.
“Please.” The emotion in my voice is enough to make her stop walking away from me. “I had to. This was my first scar. He gave this to me,” I run and stand in front of her, pointing to the long, jagged scar across my stomach. Her face is pale, and she looks like she is going to be sick.
Lilith ducks her head down and runs by me until the door slams against the wall. She disappears into the night toward the castle.
“Lilith!” my voice echoes off the trees.
“Uncle Woof?” Rian’s little voice calls for me sleepily.
I want to run after her. I want to carry her back into this house and lock her away until she agrees I had to do what I did, but what would that prove? Would I be just like the Jackals, locking her away for my own ends? Never letting her be free and happy?
Besides, Rian is here now, and I can’t leave him. I tilt my head up and blow out a breath until my lungs sting with the need for more oxygen. I hold the need to breathe in and watch the fog from my lips dance to the sky. The frozen rain does nothing to ease the heat flowing through my body. My hair sticks to my neck and forehead, and I trace the long scar over my stomach, the rain steaming off my body.
All I can do is give her space and hope she comes back to me. She has once; she will again. Won’t she?
Doing the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life, I turn my back and head back inside. Rian is sitting up in bed now, a thumb in his mouth, and his big eyes blinking with sleep. “Sshh. Are you alright? Bad dream?”
“Where’s mommy and daddy?”
Fuck. I cannot deal with this right now. I don’t have any idea what to say to him yet. “Go back to sleep. We shall talk about it in the morning, okay?”
“Where did Liliff go?” he yawns. “Can you lay wiff me? You keep me safe.”
The words hit my heart hard. It means everything that he wants to be close to me. I know he is afraid to be in a new place.
“I’ll always protect you, little man. Always.” I lay down, and he curls his head until he is using me as a pillow. “Lilith isn’t happy with me right now, so she went to get some air.”
“When mommy is mad at daddy, daddy brings her flowers. It helps,” he yawns again.
Is. He still thinks they are alive.
“Smart man, your dad.” I try and keep my answer as neutral as possible. I don’t want him to go back to sleep with the thought of his parents dead. Tomorrow is a new day. For now, I’m going to let him sleep, thinking that his daddy is still getting his mommy flowers.
“You’re a smart man too. Just get flowers,” he shrugs before falling back to sleep.
If only love was that easy. It’s going to take more than flowers to win Lilith back. It’s going to take the power of a hundred goddesses, and hell, I’m not even sure about my faith in one.
I play with Rian’s head of curls, helping him fall asleep. I stare at the ceiling, my mind swirling with a million different things. If I could go back in time and not kill her father, would I stop myself? If it came down to his life and mine, I’m choosing myself. I know for a fact I wouldn’t change a thing, and that only makes me feel worse.
I’ve slayed more men than I can count, but that one kill, her father, I knew would change the rest of my life. Even though she ran from me tonight, I know we will work this out because that’s how the story plays out in my head. If she changes the ending on me, I’ll have to leave this kingdom because loving her and not being able to have her when she is so close; I won’t be able to survive that kind of torture.
Oddly enough, I feel lighter knowing the truth is out there. I just hope she can find it in her heart to forgive me for lying to her all these years. Her father was an abusive man that didn’t know how to put down the mead. It’s why she said she doesn’t miss him, but I never thought my lying would hurt her more than the death of her own blood.
I fucked up.
I bring my fingers to my temples and try to rub the ache away. Now that I have who knows how much time on my hands, I should use it to focus on Rian to try and make the adjustment without his parents easier. This cabin won’t cut it anymore. I’ll need to add on to it. Rian had his own room before, and I’m sure the last thing he wants is for us to be piled high in the middle of the floor every night. I know I don’t want that, especially when Lilith comes back.
An idea strikes me.<
br />
I’ll add on a few more rooms. One for us, one Rian, and a few more for other children because if I have any say in it, she will be having our kids. Nothing makes me happier than to think about a little girl running around with her blonde hair and big brown eyes, or a little boy who wants to be a warrior like his father. I’ve dreamed of our future since we were sixteen, and I’m not about to change that.
I fucked up by not telling her the truth, but I didn’t fuck up killing her father. I’d do it again if it meant my life was threatened or someone threatening to take her away from me. Every time, I will choose her. I will choose us.
I close my eyes to try and get some sleep, but Lilith’s eyes haunt me. The way she looked at me… it was as if I was a stranger, and it fucking hurts. I rub my chest, trying to ease the shooting pain in my chest, but nothing helps. I want to be able to hold her and tell her how sorry I am.
She’ll forgive you.
I repeat those words over in my head until I somewhat believe it, but then the image of her fleeing from me makes me wonder again.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath before rolling out of bed. Rian is sound asleep again, but I do not think I’ll be able to fathom shutting my eyes until she is near me. I lay my elbows on my knees and hang my head. That’s when I notice something by my feet. Bending over, I take the small cloth in my hand and smile. It’s the shirt Lilith was making Rian. The needle is hanging off the thread, swinging in the air. It’s almost done. If I knew how to sew, I would, but my fingers are too big. I don’t have a delicate touch of a woman.
Maybe I can deliver it to the castle, and she will finish it for me, but I’ll say it’s for Rian. I’ll do anything to get close to her again. I’ll devise any plan. If I know the room she is staying in, I’ll climb through the window. Anything to get her to talk to me again.
But first, I need to prove she can trust me. As much as it kills me, giving her space might show her that I respect what she wants. I’ll have someone keep an eye on her of course, just to make sure she is okay, but I won’t bombard her, no matter how much I want to.
I’m getting ahead of myself. I must tackle one issue at a time. The first thing I must do is to tell Rian that he will be living with me from here on out because his mother and father died. It’s the one thing I needed to talk to Lilith about to get her thoughts, but I had to go and ruin it. Damn, how do I crush a little boy’s world and tell him everything is going to be okay?
How do I let the woman I love walk around, angry at me, possibly never wanting to talk to me again?
How can I convince myself that I’m going to be fine? I miss the days where I used my strength, not my emotions. This is hard. Life with love is almost impossible. I stand with a sigh and lean my arm above the window, watching the rain fall to the ground and lightning bolt through the sky. I hope Lilith doesn’t get sick from her run in this weather. It’s just another thing I won’t be able to forgive myself for.
“Fucking hell, Wulf. Man up and deal with it. Fix it,” I tell myself. “Do better. Be better. They need better than this fucking wreck that you are.”
Starting right now, I shall be the man Rian and Lilith need. I may not always get things right, but I’ll always try, and that’s all I can do right now. With new determination and a plan, I stroll back to the bed and lay down, ready for the new day that lies ahead.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lilith
I’ve cried until the tears have stained the pillow beneath me, and my eyes are swollen and puffy. It’s been two weeks since I’ve seen Beowulf, and it’s a week too long, especially since I’ve gone twelve years without him. I can’t seem to face him right now, not with what he told me.
The first day I was here, I was hurt, devastated, and furious that he could do something like that and still pretend everything was okay. The second day, I sank into a deep depression.
Beowulf, my sweet, loving Beowulf, killed my father. I couldn’t seem to wrap my head around it. By the third day, I felt betrayed. On the fourth, I tried to think rationally. I hated my father. He was a mean old man who hit my mother and tried to control every move I made. It didn’t mean I wanted him dead, but it also didn’t mean I missed him.
I tried to make sense of Beowulf’s decision because I want to be on Beowulf’s side. On the fifth day, I gave up trying to make sense of it. And now for two whole weeks, I’ve missed the man who loves me, but I’ve also wondered if he ever loved me at all.
People who love each other are honest. For him to keep this from me all those years ago, it hurts. The thought that my best friend killed the man who raised me is hard to swallow. The sad thing is, I would be more upset and more unforgiving if Beowulf came home with another woman. So now, I’m wallowing in guilt because I’d be more upset about that, rather than that he killed my father.
I’m so messed up in the head.
Right now, I honestly have no idea why I’m crying. I think I’m still processing everything, even though my mind is numb. I’m tired of thinking. I just want to sleep and forget he ever ruined the best sex he has ever given me.
A knock at the door pulls me from my self-pity.
“Go away,” I say, cuddling the large pillow and wishing it was my Beowulf.
“Lilith, you must eat. You haven’t eaten enough.” Lord Grimkael’s deep voice with an underlying tone of authority makes me feel like a child in trouble.
“I’m not hungry.”
“I don’t care. Open this door, or I’ll break it down.”
I know he means it, too. Lord Grimkael never delivers an empty threat. Sighing, I wipe my face, rolling out of bed to unlock the door. The hinges squeak as he opens it, but I can’t see his face since I’m already laying back in bed, staring at the wall.
“I’ve brought water, bread, and stew. I’m not leaving until it is all gone.”
“Lord Grimkael—”
“An order is an order, Lilith.”
“I don’t see how Lady Sassa puts up with you,” I grumble, tossing the furs off my body and sit on the edge of the bed. It’s plush and thicker than the one Beowulf has in his cabin. It makes sense since Lady Sassa and Lord Grimkael are wealthy. They have the best of everything, and they always try to make sure the people of the village have the best too.
He gives me a cheeky grin, plopping his big body in the seat beside the bed to watch me eat. “She wonders that every day, but I have a way of reminding her.”
My cheeks heat, when I understand his meaning. I keep my face down as I break off a tiny piece of bread and chew it. It tastes like sand. Not because it is bad, but because my taste buds are numb from the constant emotion that has wracked my body.
“I want to talk about Beowulf.”
I release a heavy sigh. “If you want me to eat, you won’t say his name, and we won’t speak about him.” It hurts too much.
“You’ll eat because it’s the only way I’ll leave this room.”
“It’s the only way I leave this room,” I mock as if I’m a small child, and take a sip of water. When I meet his gaze, a tickle of fear worries me. I’ve just mocked the Lord of the kingdom. I’m really off my rocker. “I’m sorry, my Lord. I don’t know what has gotten into me. I haven’t slept. It’s been… rough, to say the least.”
“We shall talk about it. Eat.”
I keep the urge to roll my eyes locked deep. I’ve already mocked him; I don’t need to add to the list of disrespect. The spoon in my hand seems to weigh a million pounds as I dip it into the stew. My stomach growls as the steam off the broth invades my nose. I’m suddenly starved. The Lord and I sit in silence as I eat. It doesn’t take me long to polish off the bowl, bread, and cup of water.
My stomach still grumbles, and I wish the bowl could suddenly refill itself.
“By the look on your face, you want more. I can make that happen after we talk about what’s happened with my best warrior. He hasn’t been right in the head since you’ve been in the castle. And he has given me this to give to you.”
Lord Grimkael pulls out the shirt I was working on for Rian before… well, before.
I reach for it and place it in my lap.
“He asked me to ask you if you would finish it.” He sighs. “I never thought I’d be a messenger boy, but alas, here I am.”
He spreads his arms before lacing his fingers across his stomach and leans back in the chair. “Beowulf won’t tell me what has happened, but I have a feeling you will. I can help, perhaps, give you some perspective.”
“What could you possibly say that would make this better? Beowulf killed my father and lied to me about it. He betrayed me.” I sit the food tray on the nightstand and scoot back on the bed until I hit the wall.
“Hmm, Beowulf is many things, but a traitor isn’t one of them.”
My mouth falls open when I see him pick a piece of lint off his shirt like he has yet to hear something that catches his interest. “How can you say that? He—”
“Yes, he killed your father. For you. For his life. For the connection you two shared. I would have done the same. I don’t know if you know this, but I blackmailed Sassa’s father for her hand. An alliance with the Vikings, but only if she was mine.”
I gasp.
He smirks. “Aye, she wasn’t too fond of me at first, but she fell in love with me. A dirty plan turned into the best thing of my life. See, I’m ruthless—” he places his elbows on his knees and leans forward. “But Beowulf is a noble man. Should he have lied? No, but this is why he didn’t. This reason, right here. You are here, away from him, and it is his worst fear. He has lived with this for a long time. You think he was happy to kill your father? It’s probably the one death that haunts him.”
After letting me think about what he said for a couple of minutes, he stands. “I must go. I have a meeting. Think about what I said.” He takes the tray as he leaves and disappears out the door, leaving me with a whirlwind of new thoughts.
I keep tight hold of the half-made shirt and make my way toward the window. The view is beautiful. The lavender field is gone as it has disappeared beneath the snow. Something pulls me to look down, and my breath catches when I see Beowulf on his steed, staring up at me like I’m a damsel locked away in a tower. I’m not sure how long we stay like that, but seeing him makes my heart warm. I forgot why I am mad at him when I see his blue eyes. They are so bright. Even from up here, I can see how colorful they are.
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