The Viking's Captive

by Ingrid Hahn

  “My cousin was swallowed by the sea. There were so many things we had yet to do.”

  “It goes deeper than your recent grief, doesn’t it?”

  He inhaled. “Tell me about your life…your life before.”

  Alodie stared into the distance. Her life before. About as far from a princess as a person could be. She’d come to the castle an orphan child, hungry enough to eat discarded scraps even the dogs had refused, and eager for something—anything—to alleviate the pain of her mother’s death. Of course, at the time, she hadn’t understood that. In retrospect, it was obvious.

  Alodie had been taller and stronger than other children, even some of the boys, despite near-constant hunger. She’d been called “big as a work horse,” a time or two. Unfair, because she wasn’t so tall or so big as that. They’d been trying to tear her down by making her feel she wasn’t an appropriately feminine size. For a while, it’d worked.

  Once she’d put her strength and tenacity to good use, the teasing had ceased to matter. She’d been all too willing to work hard, putting her physical strength to anyone’s use, and fighting away more than one of the unsightly men who would torment the orphan pack.

  Or worse.

  Her willingness to work—work fast and work well—had earned her a place inside and had eventually caught the notice of the princess herself. Alodie would never be higher than a servant. So long as she’d remained close to the princess, that hadn’t mattered. It was the best she could hope for in life, and incomprehensibly better than she could have hoped as a child after her mother had died, with no family and no means. No one had wanted her. No one had claimed her. She hadn’t had one single item of value—dubious or otherwise—to wrap in her grubby child’s fist.

  Now she was here. His captive. Unable to breathe a hint of what she truly was, but wanting to all the same. Wanting to tell him everything—to share intimacies and bring them closer.

  That’s not where they were, though, was it? The intimacy between them was not complete. She was his captive. Confidences existed between them. And maybe that meant something, but it did not extend so far as sharing her true self with him.

  “It’s…not a story for tonight.”

  There was a silence. “I had no right to ask you. I’ve already brought you enough pain.”

  It was practically an admission of guilt. God help her, but if he asked for her forgiveness here and now, she just might give it to him.

  They were quiet a moment. In the distance, around the fires, a lone storyteller had started telling tales and paused dramatically to deliver a line. Whatever he said didn’t reach Alodie’s hearing, but the result was a whole pack of demons roaring with laughter. The sound was jarring, breaking into the moment. It seemed inappropriate. But the world existed beyond them, didn’t it?

  Turning her attention back to their leader beside her, she moved by instinct, reaching up to wipe the blood from his face. The red streaked and smeared. “Whatever it is you’re really battling, know that you don’t have to fight alone.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Yielding to Temptation

  Thorvald caught her hand as she wiped the blood from his brow and his body responded. That’s all it took. In fighting Hrolf, he’d meant to exert himself past the point of arousal.

  Maybe with other women he’d have been successful. Not with her.

  His heart filled with warm longing, beating with firm insistence. His body tensed with anticipation.

  They’d been skin-to-skin before. This was different. It was as if he were new to the world—new to himself. There were things buried in his heart he hadn’t been able to admit…until they touched.

  She was soft. He bit his own lips before he bent his head to hers. They were made for him to claim. He wanted to fall upon her, rough and insistent, and affirm what he wanted so desperately to be true—that she was his.

  Somewhere in their brief and difficult history, a connection had formed between them. One that neither wanted.

  But it would feel so good to touch her.

  It would be easier if it would all go away. He had enough experience with wishing his life could be anything but what it was to know that most things could not be changed. They were how they were. Like whatever undeniable force was attracting them to one another.

  No words were spoken. No words were needed. The expression on her face was unmistakable. The tension in the air between them heightened. She wanted him too. Maybe, finally, she’d begun to stop fighting her desire.

  Thorvald made no move. He had no right. Still, he was no more than a man—bone and sinew and blood beating violently in his veins.

  There was a pause before she spoke hesitantly. “Then the night you caught me trying to escape and said you didn’t want to kiss me…?”

  A soft vulnerability infused her voice. How he wanted to pull her close, keep her safe, and give in to his impulses. He’d kiss her tenderly and stroke her gently, allowing arousal to build slowly. He’d explore her shape. Learn the texture of her skin. Leave no part of her unexplored.

  “I did not speak the truth.”

  “Then…you do? Want to…” She swallowed.

  “Yes. No.”

  She frowned, looking uncomfortable—like a tender part of herself she didn’t often expose was about to be hurt. “Which is it?”

  “Kiss is not the word for what I want to do to you, princess. I want to worship you with my mouth.”

  If only his prick could grasp a fuller understanding of the situation. An erection had no place here.

  “That’s not what you said then.”

  If she wanted reassurance, reassurance he could give her. He couldn’t blame her if she had doubts. How things stood between them were rapidly becoming complicated. “Sometimes the pleasure is the punishment itself. I wanted you in my arms, crying out my name, begging me for more, even if you hated me every second I drew out pleasure in your body you never dreamed you could feel.”

  His stomach clenched. The way he was talking had lengthened and thickened him.

  Eyes massive, her mouth opened. She gulped a shaky breath and pressed her lips together again. They stared at one another. It had been a very long time since he’d held a woman in his arms. His body was taking swift tally of the abstinence and demanding fierce retribution.

  He brought her fingers to his mouth.

  His breathing deepened. Her lips parted.

  An invitation?

  Careful. It would have been easy to get ahead of himself. Easy to see what he wanted to see. He couldn’t make a mistake, not here.

  But as far as mistakes went, he’d sworn he wouldn’t touch her. Now his body ached. He’d break into as many pieces as there were stars in the sky if he didn’t.

  “Would you…” Thorvald could barely speak through the strength of his desires. His voice was rough with need. He wanted one thing and one alone. But he would remain master of himself. Whatever she might think of him, he wasn’t so much of a monster as that. “…hate me forever if I kissed you?”

  “I will already hate you forever.” But there was no malice in her voice.

  “Please, princess.” His hand went to her smooth cheek and she covered it with her own. “Please. I beg you, be truthful with me.”

  “Don’t your kind merely take what you want?”

  The brutal shock of the words made him try to jerk away.

  But her grip on his hand tightened. “Don’t leave.”

  Thorvald’s teeth set. “If you don’t want me—”

  “I do. I don’t want to. But I do.” The strain in her voice revealed what it cost her to admit it. She was divulging a secret that perhaps she wished she didn’t carry.

  “’Tis inconvenient, I’ll own. It shouldn’t be like this.”

  “We haven’t done anything. We could still walk away and forget we ever thoug
ht about it.”

  Walking away would be treason to his body, but bring peace to his mind. She wasn’t his. He’d stolen her for the jarl. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. “Is that what you want?”

  The princess looked pained. “It’s what I want to want.”

  “Neither of us desire these feelings.”

  She wet her lips. “But we have them.”

  “Tell me what you want and—”

  “Oh, for mercy’s sake.” She snapped at him and pled with him at once. “Stop talking, won’t you, and do something.”

  Knowing perfectly well what he was doing and at the same time hardly master of himself, he took her by the hand and they fled toward the trees. In the darkness under the fir branches, they would be safe from curious eyes.

  They were not, however, safe from themselves.

  He took her by the waist and put her back against the trunk of a tree, pressing his body against hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her head up. Only a whisper separated their lips. He was hard and eager, aroused beyond reason.

  A breathy sound escaped her. “Why does it have to be you?”

  Why, indeed? But now he didn’t want to fight it or understand it.

  “Shh.” He stroked her hair. “Don’t think. Just feel.”

  “This is madness.”

  “I know.”

  In the darkness, everything unnecessary fell away. They were nothing but their most basic parts. No more than two people desperately hungry for what only the other could give.

  When he brought his mouth against hers, his body sung. Oh, sweet relief. Her lips welcomed his, parting to drink him in, eagerly meeting his tongue with her own. Their bodies nested together. Her breasts crushed against his chest. They were as close as they could be without being joined. Only layers of fabric separated them.

  The sooner he stripped that away and pushed himself into her, the better.

  …

  Alodie’s resolve had vanished, gone who knew where and who knew when—all of it at once, like sand escaping from a slit in the bag, grains scattering to the wind. Her resolve against demons. Against the sin of lust. Against him.

  She’d berated herself for her feelings. Tried ignoring them. Tried praying them away. Nothing worked. The temptation was too strong. She was weak. A mortal in need of salvation, merrily dancing her way to hell with a demon.

  She would pay for this.

  Now, she was too far gone. Resistance was no longer an option. Her heart sang a joyful song at the loss of her intention to oppose her longings.

  Somewhere in the back of her thoughts was the nervous awareness that she ought to tell him the truth about herself. He would be pleased, wouldn’t he? Now that everything between them was spilling out into the open? They were physically acknowledging what had been between them for longer than she cared to admit. He wouldn’t have to give her over. They could go back. He could renounce his gods, accept baptism, and they could be together.

  The way he felt against her made the confession vanish from her tongue. Or maybe it was cowardice—cowardice born of fear that he would rage instead of rejoice.

  Later. There was plenty of time. For now, she had this, and who knew how long their stolen time together would last.

  He was hard and strong. Sinfully male in all the ways she shouldn’t know about. With one arm still resting against the trunk of the tree, effectively keeping Alodie pinned in place, he reached between her legs, clutching her sex with firm confidence. He smelled of wood smoke and the sea and tasted of wine. She rubbed against him, hips rocking, pleasure building. Inside her was a fire, burning hotter and brighter with every stroke.

  If this was damnation, how would she ever fumble her way back to the path of salvation?

  The awareness of her sin faded as the rhythm grew faster. She wasn’t anything but a woman in the hands of a man—an earthly thing, wild, untamable, and hungry. Hungry for everything that was going to come.

  And then, she did…careening into the bright light of pleasure as it shot to the end of each finger and the tip of each toe.

  He crushed his mouth to hers to stifle her cries.

  From somewhere beyond, Thorvald’s name rang out over the sounds of the night’s revelry. Their lips tore apart and he cursed.

  Alodie blinked. The fact of who she was, where she was, what she’d done, and with whom hit her like a blow to the face.

  Angels save her, but she didn’t want it to be over. Not yet. It hadn’t been enough. Her thighs still wanted to part for him. She still wanted to feel him moving inside of her.

  Him. Him. Him. Why him? Oh, devil take the question. It could plague her to her dying day and she still wouldn’t have the answer. She just wanted him. It was as simple as that.

  She grabbed the muscular mass of his arms. “Don’t go.”

  “I’d rather smash Odin’s good eye under my heel than leave you now.”

  Then the call came again. It was Ozrik’s voice—and this time, it was closer.

  The demon leader bellowed back over his shoulder, “A moment, will you?”

  Only the prevailing sense that she couldn’t alert two ship-fulls of demons that she and their leader had been alone together in the dark kept her from screaming. To come so close only to have it all ripped away before they could take what they wanted…

  He began to turn.

  Alodie grabbed his hand. “Don’t…”

  A brief smile touched his lips. His stare was intense enough to crumble stone. In his eyes, she read everything she needed to know: he didn’t want it to be over any more than she did.

  Gathering all her courage, she tried again. “I—I need to tell you something.”

  His hand slipped from hers. He turned and faded into the shadows of the night.

  Watching him transform into a hulking black shape as he returned to the beach, she stamped her feet in frustration. God help her, but she’d wanted all of him. And she didn’t want to wait. She wanted him now.

  The strength of the need was overpowering. It started in the bottom of her stained soul and radiated into the world, like vines or tentacles curling…seeking…trying desperately to grasp for the one thing that would be her salvation.

  Salvation?

  The word struck a bruising blow against her conscience.

  They weren’t married. They hadn’t even discussed the possibility. She’d done wrong with the blacksmith, true enough, but at least they’d been planning to put things right between them.

  Trembling, Alodie dug out her prayer beads—the ones she’d been aware of for the entire voyage, yet hadn’t dared touch. Part of her didn’t want to pray. What if the Lord didn’t hear her? What if her desperation to escape this fate had made her deaf to the Holy Spirit?

  But now, it was the only thing she had. She folded her hands over the beads and closed her eyes, letting her mind go back to the holy words from Luke she’d heard every Holy Thursday for her entire life. “Dicens…Pater…si vis transfer calicem istum a me verumtamen non mea voluntas sed tua fiat.” Father, take this cup from me…yet not my will, but yours be done.

  Alodie waited at the periphery, biding her time until he would come to bed down by the fire. She held her beads, reciting prayers she’d learned upon her mother’s knee. Bead by bead, around and around the small ring she went. As the thrill of what they’d done began to wear off, her eyes began to grow heavy.

  When the fire began to die, she added more wood. The stars moved across the sky. The singing waned as the men began to succumb to sleep.

  She stared hard at the dark figures huddled around the fire in the distance. Where was he? Why wasn’t he coming back? Had he taken all he wanted?

  Fear began plucking a string of her heart. Was he finished with her? Was she to sleep alone tonight?

  Finally, one of the shadows took his
shape. Something about how he moved…strange how she could recognize him even when he was a black form. Coming out from under the trees into the light of the starry sky, moonlight seemed to carve his features in silver. All thoughts of sleep fell away and she hurried to replace her beads in their pouch. His expression…well, she couldn’t read his expression.

  He was nothing she needed and everything she wanted.

  A single glance her way was all it took. They’d acknowledged the connection between them almost as openly as they could have. One look into the blue depths of his eyes and she knew, the knowledge as certain as the strong beat of her heart. He wasn’t finished with her.

  She was ready for him to reach down and help her up. They would return to the trees and she would finally feel him inside of her.

  Instead of extending a hand, he removed his cloak and spread it over the ground. He took his place beside her, lying in a long line, fingers interlaced over the bottom of his rib cage, feet crossed at the ankles, eyes closed.

  Well. All right. He must have still been thinking about what to do. There was nothing she could fault him for if he possessed more restraint than she.

  Oh, saints’ bones, she didn’t believe that, not for one hair’s width of time. Fault him she could and fault him she did. She wanted him now. She wanted to do it three times before dawn and again after the morning meal.

  With no other choice, she lay down to rest alongside him. They were together and somehow she was still alone.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Thorvald’s Mistake

  The next afternoon under a heavy slate sky, they sailed up the fjord. Hills towered above them on either side of the waterway, masses of jagged rock covered in green. Occasionally, water spilled down the face. When the gray over them darkened with the earliest promise of oncoming night, they sighted the village.

  The houses stood on the jut-out of land surrounded by trees. In the near distance were the sloping hills where cattle grazed among the trees, important meat for everyone who lived here.