Longing for Her Forbidden Viking

by Harper St. George

  When he finally looked away, his view blocked when one of the men shifted, she felt as if he’d physically stroked her. The wings of several tiny butterflies beat in her belly, while her skin prickled, searching for more of his touch.

  ‘And finally...’ Lord Vidar’s voice filled the space again, demanding the attention of the room. ‘I can think of no better time to announce Aevir’s impending marriage. He will marry Annis of Glannoventa in the spring. May they have many sons and many years together.’

  The hall erupted into the biggest cheering of the night, but somehow it all faded into the background for Ellan. A ringing started in her head. It began in one ear and then moved to the other until it grew louder and louder, taking over everything else while still not drowning out that little voice that was telling her what a fool she had been. Aevir himself had told her that he was marrying someone else, but it hadn’t seemed real. It seemed like something out of a dream. Something far into the future...a future she had resolutely refused to think about. She hadn’t realised until just that moment, when it was dashed and splintered into a thousand pieces, how much hope she had been holding on to for them.

  A hand touched her shoulder. Elswyth had moved to sit closer to her. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  Ellan saw her mouth the words rather than heard them through all the commotion and that incessant buzzing in her ears. Even though she had known, having it announced with such flourish and so publicly at that, was crushing. It was as if the world had been swept out from under her feet.

  Her sister gave her a tender smile and squeezed her shoulders. The ringing started to fade and the hall came back into focus. She tried to catch a glimpse of Aevir, but it was impossible to see him through all the warriors approaching to offer their congratulations. He must be happy. Not one of them walked away seeming dissuaded in their joy.

  Determined not to give way to the ache swelling in her throat, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to force it to go away. Any hope for a future with him was well and truly gone.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Aevir tried his best to look for Ellan, but the stream of men coming to congratulate him seemed endless. He had pushed himself to his unsteady feet to no avail. As soon as an opening would present itself another warrior would fill the gap, effectively closing off his line of sight. He couldn’t even tell if she was still in the hall. For all he knew, the announcement could have caused her to flee into the night. The fact that she still held feelings for him despite him clarifying things between them was no secret. If he was honest with himself, the past several days had only deepened his affection for her.

  It was why his moods had been so black. Being forced to be near her while being unable to touch her for fear of making her pain worse had been torture. He had chosen to be curt and short tempered rather than endure another discussion with her that might pull him further under her spell.

  What if she was out there alone? There was always the chance that a lone Scot spy or a Saxon traitor could be lurking in the shadows. Chances were that she would not be in his life for very long, but he felt obligated to watch out for her while she was.

  Catching the eye of one of the men posted by the door, Aevir waved him over. ‘Has Ellan left the hall?’

  ‘Nay, she’s still here.’

  ‘Go watch over her. Stay by her side and if she tries to leave escort her directly to her home.’

  The man agreed and hurried off to find her. Aevir was able to breathe easier, knowing that someone was protecting her. Now that his concern was under control the latent anger that had been building inside him had a chance to boil to the surface. The Jarl had no right to announce his marriage. There had been no official betrothal...yet. Aye, Aevir had sworn to do his duty by the Jarl and his word was good. However, without an agreement and the explicit consent of the woman’s guardian, the betrothal wasn’t set. There was a small chance that it might all fall apart come the spring.

  How real was that chance? The flutter of hope that accompanied that thought didn’t bear considering. Even if the wedding did not happen, Ellan would be out of his reach. She would almost certainly be wed by then. Besides that, he could not allow what he felt for her to deepen any more than it already had. His heart could not take it.

  Oleif, one of his best warriors, clapped a hand on his back right over the shoulder that had been knocked out of place. It took all Aevir could do not to grimace at the pain that pulsated through his chest before settling to a dull throb. ‘Never thought I’d see the day you got yourself fettered to a woman.’ The man gave him a good-natured grin.

  ‘I admit, I had my doubts as well,’ Aevir teased.

  When would this end? It had been an amusing distraction to talk with the men and drink mead, but he wanted to go back to the farmhouse now. Only a few hours and he already missed having Ellan to himself. On the event that the marriage announcement had hurt her, he also needed to let her know that he hadn’t intended for Jarl Vidar to make the arrangement public.

  ‘Does this mean that the Saxon wench is available?’ Oleif nodded in the direction Ellan had been sitting. ‘Or do you plan to keep her?’

  Unreasonable anger intermingled with jealousy burned through his chest. Before he could answer another man leaned over and said, ‘Aren’t all women willing to spread their legs for you, Oleif?’

  They both howled with laughter, but Aevir could not join in. Was this how it would feel to know that she was out of his reach? Would she eventually accept Henrik to avoid the Saxon betrothal? He glanced around, trying to catch sight of the warrior’s red hair. What if she were with Henrik now and in a fit of temper had accepted his hand?

  ‘She is still under the Jarl’s protection. Do not touch her,’ he reminded them both. He couldn’t help but wonder if he hadn’t inadvertently hindered that protection. If the men thought that they were lovers—and it was clear that at least these two did—then someone might try to press his hand with her.

  The need to see her and talk to her was overwhelming. He said his farewells to the men around him and hobbled through the crowd, accepting their enthusiastic well wishes along the way. Once he had cleared the men surrounding the table, he could finally make her out across the hall. She still sat talking with her sister and she seemed unaffected by the announcement. Perhaps she had come to terms with his marriage. It was good if she had. He knew that and yet her acceptance of it still stung.

  At least Henrik was not at her side. Aevir made his way slowly across the room, cursing inwardly at the pulling pain in his thigh. He didn’t want to admit that she might have been right about it being too early to make the trip to the hall. Her eyes widened slightly when she looked up to see him coming towards her, but when he lightly stumbled over the high edge of a floorboard, she rose and hurried towards him, easily sliding against his side to take some of his weight.

  ‘Let’s get you home.’ Her voice was light and smooth.

  Was she truly unaffected or was she hiding her pain? He tightened his arm around her, savouring the softness. ‘Are you well?’

  Busy navigating through the crowded hall, she didn’t look at him. ‘Of course. Are you in pain? Too tired? I knew it was too soon.’

  ‘A little, but I’m fine.’ He kept his grip tight while they made for the door, pausing before going outside. A light snow had begun to fall again. Grabbing the edge of his fur, he wrapped it around her as he put his arm back over her shoulder and pulled her close. It felt so natural and good to have her there at his side, sharing his warmth.

  To his consternation she seemed unaffected with an expression of studied determination on her face as she looked ahead, appearing to be plotting their course home. Again, he told himself that it was good she was moving on from her infatuation, but he couldn’t stop the jealousy that ate at him. He took in the dark trees looming in the distance, their branches still and quiet as the snow fell. The pure white covered all signs of the b
attle that had raged nearly a week ago. Was it the same with her? Did she wear a cool disguise to cover the hurt inside her?

  ‘Are you truly well?’ he asked, stepping out into the night with her at his side.

  ‘What do you mean?’ This time she glanced up at him with her brow furrowed. The weak spill of moonlight painted her features in silver.

  He gave her shoulder a squeeze. Something in his face must have given him away. For one brief moment, her mask slipped to show the pain in her eyes before she turned her face away from him.

  ‘I didn’t know that Jarl Vidar would announce the marriage tonight. You must believe me. If I had, then I would have stopped him,’ he said.

  She was silent for so long that he thought she meant to ignore him. The man posted to watch the house saw them coming and hurried to open the door. Only after it was closed behind them did she let him go and swing around to face him as she unwrapped her own cloak. ‘Why? Why stop him? You intend to marry. It’s only natural that he would want to announce it tonight.’

  She dropped the fur on to her pallet before moving to address the fire. It had died down in their absence, leaving the house cold. She collected several pieces of wood from the stack near the door and piled them into the hearth.

  ‘Ellan, stop and look at me.’

  Her hands paused and then clutched into fists as they dropped to her sides. The pain in her eyes nearly rent him in two. Taking the few steps necessary to reach her, he only barely restrained himself from touching her. ‘I didn’t want him to announce it because I knew that it might hurt you.’

  ‘I’m fine.’ But she didn’t seem fine. She seemed both hurt and angry.

  He tried to think of something he could say that would ease that pain, but there was nothing. If only he could hold her and give her pleasure. It wouldn’t take it away, but it might make it more bearable. Suddenly it didn’t seem to matter that the Jarl might punish him for touching her and it didn’t even matter that doing so might cause him more pain in the end. He needed to make her feel better, even if the effects were temporary. Cursing under his breath, he reached for her and pulled her against him. Before she could say a word, he covered her mouth with his.

  A soft moan sounded in the back of her throat. It made an answering excitement ignite in his belly that demanded more. She opened for him, her body going pliant against him as her hands moved up his arms to his shoulders, one twining in his hair. He nearly groaned in relief and took her mouth in the type of kiss he’d wanted to give her from the moment he saw her. It was rough and demanding. His tongue branded hers as they brushed, claiming her.

  When he was forced to draw breath, he broke away, but found it impossible to leave her. She was a taste he’d been too long denied. She was intoxicating. He trailed kisses down her neck, licking the salt from her skin as he went, desperate for all of her. His body throbbed to vibrant life as he sought to salve his endless craving for her. Her gasp when his palm curved around the delicious curve of her backside only stoked the flames in him higher. Thor’s blood, he was already hard enough to take her now. He’d never gone so quickly from flaccid to mad lust.

  Her fingers tightened in his hair, causing him a pain he welcomed. ‘Ellan,’ he whispered, his other hand coming up to cover her breast. It filled his palm nicely, the pebbled tip begging him for attention. He could already taste it as he headed in that direction, his fingers fumbling with a way to get to her skin beneath her clothing.

  ‘Nay.’ The word was so soft he wasn’t certain that he had heard it until she pushed at his shoulders. ‘Aevir, stop!’

  Dazed, he pulled away enough to look down at her, but he didn’t let her go. His fingers squeezed the luscious flesh of her bottom, holding her pinned to him, his pulsing erection demanding more where it pressed against her belly. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Everything. This isn’t right.’

  If anything the pain in her eyes had intensified from earlier and it was enough to break him from his stupor. His hands dropped from her and a small gap opened between them. ‘It is right. If you’re worried about Jarl Vidar...’ His voice trailed off as she shook her head. ‘Then what?’

  ‘You’re betrothed, Aevir.’

  ‘I’m not married.’

  ‘But you will be. You chose her.’

  ‘I didn’t choose her, Ellan. Jarl Vidar did. I’ve never met her. I’m simply doing my duty.’

  She took a deep breath, seeming to come to some resolution that he was certain he wouldn’t like. ‘Then perhaps it would be more accurate to say that you didn’t choose me.’

  He stared at her, unable to believe that she could think that. ‘Ellan. I thought I was clear.’ He moved forward to cup her face, but she stepped away, putting even more space between them. ‘I would choose you if things were simple. I do want you more than anyone else.’ He shook his head instead of continuing with that line of thought. He walked right up to her, leaving only a breath of space between them, but he didn’t try to touch her again. ‘I can give you this. Now, tonight.’

  ‘Don’t you understand, Aevir?’ This time she was the one to take his face between her palms. ‘I cannot accept anything less than all of you.’

  Letting out the breath that had lodged in his throat, he let his forehead fall forward to touch hers. The blatant honesty of that statement surprised him. He was at the lip of a precipice with her. One wrong move and he’d tumble over. She was very right to refuse him tonight. Taking her might propel him over the edge. But his body wasn’t listening to reason any more. It was demanding her.

  ‘You don’t do anything in half measure, do you? You love without holding anything back,’ he whispered. It was exactly what drew him to her...and why he had to stay away.

  ‘What other way is there?’

  ‘Perhaps there isn’t one.’

  There was no other way for him. He had loved Sefa so deeply that her death had nearly destroyed him. He didn’t know how to hold back once he let go. Already an ache had taken root in his heart at the knowledge that he would never hold Ellan the way he wanted to. He would never see her green eyes shining out at him from a little boy who called him Father.

  The ache sharpened so fiercely that he drew back away from her, stumbling at the pain it caused to shoot through his thigh. She reached out to steady him, but he shook his head to ward her off. Quickly recovering himself, he said, ‘Thank you for seeing to my care. I am well enough to return to my duties. I will be moving in the morning.’ With those words he returned to the alcove that had been their sanctuary for the last time.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The next morning Ellan brought the tray of implements for a fresh bandage into Aevir’s alcove. He was up and sitting with his undershirt on. His tunic was on the bed beside him and he had already stripped the old bandage from his thigh. A quick glance noted that his wound appeared to be healing nicely.

  ‘Good morning.’ Her voice was strained, knowing that this would be the last time she saw him like this.

  He spared her a look, one that proved to her how things had changed between them overnight. There was a distance in his eyes, as if she were any other person to him. He was back to being the aloof warrior. And then he was motioning for the tray, which she placed on the bed beside him.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said without looking at her again as he picked up the cloth from the tray. ‘I’m well enough to see to the bandage myself. Send Oleif to me. I’ll have the morning meal in the hall.’

  She paused at the threshold, her fingers tightening into fists at her side as she watched him work on bandaging his wound. A gold strand of his hair caught the light from the fire, making it shine bronze. Despite everything, love for him bloomed in her heart. She didn’t even try to explain it or justify it any more. The why or how of it no longer mattered. It was nestled there, shredding her heart with its tiny, persistent claws, and she was certain that it always would
be. She had passed the night on her mattress, wondering if she had chosen correctly. Would it have been best to spend their final night in each other’s arms? Would she think back to that night in her old age and wish she had chosen differently? She had found herself rising to go to him countless times, but had always managed to stay herself.

  One thing had held her back. If he chose her, she wanted it to be because it had been his choice, not because she had persuaded him with pleasure.

  Finally he looked up from bandaging his thigh and found her staring at him. There was a question in his eyes, quickly replaced by the faintest hint of regret. Giving him one final smile, she turned and walked to the hall to find Oleif. She didn’t stay around to have a meal. She wasn’t hungry and she had another goal in mind before the morning was done. With her own future to secure, she went to find Henrik.

  Men were already busy with chores and sparring. It seemed that a wall around Banford had been commissioned and, in the distance, trees were being felled in preparation for the spring build. A man chopped firewood on the far side of the clearing near the forest. His axe made a rhythmic echo in the morning drone of activity. Off in the field the clang of a sword against a metal shield sounded.

  She walked towards the field, expecting that would be the best place to find Henrik. A man named Ander followed her. He was one of Aevir’s men and had been stationed outside the door when she had left.

  ‘Where is Henrik?’ she asked the lump of hulking man at her back.

  He grunted and pointed towards the field.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said and hurried her steps.

  Henrik’s bright hair was easy to find among the score of men who were sparring. He wielded his sword well and Ellan was surprised to feel pride in her friend as she watched him. He was younger than many of the older, more experienced warriors, but he held his own. There was no doubt that he would be as formidable as some of Aevir’s most valued men some day.