His entire body quakes with fear as he looks into my eyes. I know what he sees. He sees the promise of death. “Please, my lord.” The young brown-headed man begs, his innocent dark eyes welling with tears as he meets my eyes. He may be a fool, but to look me in the eye… Well, that doesn’t make him a coward.
I take a step closer and put my sword under his chin. “I am not your lord. Let me make that perfectly clear.”
“Come on, Grimkael. Let’s get rid of him. We still have people to settle in the village.”
Ignoring the words of my second, I press my sword against the young man’s chin again, making him look up at me with wet lashes. “One more chance.”
“I used to be a Jackal. I swear it, I mean no harm. I was traveling alone. I was hoping to speak to you. I want a home.”
I snort, not believing a word of it. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” He lowers the collar of his shirt and reveals the brand of the Jackal. It’s old, but the skin is still puckered, forever burned from the hot iron metal searing a ‘J’ into his skin.
“That means nothing. He can be a spy sent from them.”
“Why would he be a spy for them? Jackals are on our side,” I ask with curiosity. The Jackals have been our allies from the very beginning. Turning against us would not be wise.
The boy shakes his head. “Some of the Jackals are branching off and creating their own force. They are the ones against you. The people that refused to be part of their plan, they killed. Some of us escaped, and I swear, I didn’t know my journey would lead me here. I’ll tell you anything I know.”
I grab the boy by the hair, yank his head back, and put the thick, sharp edge of my blade against his throat. “What the hell are you talking about? The Jackals are no longer?”
I still am not worried about the threat of the Jackals, or what they used to be. They will never be as strong and as smart as my people.
“No. Only a few of us remain.”
“Hmmm,” I say. I’m contemplating what to do with the information he just told me. I have no use for him, but he is nothing but a boy. To kill such a young man is a crime in and of itself. He is just trying to find his way, but I can’t show weakness in front of my people.
I lift the sword, preparing to give him a quick death when he holds out his hands and begs for his life. “Wait, wait, wait. I have information on the girl!” he shouts, tears rolling down his face.
I squint my eyes at him and tilt my head. I look around to see everyone else looking at me with confusion. I haven’t had a chance to tell my men about my plan yet, and the fact that this boy knows something lets me know I have a traitor in my midst.
“What is your name, boy?” I ask, sheathing my sword in my belt.
“Abram, my…” He licks his lips, catching himself. “I mean, Warlord Grim.”
“How old are you?”
“What is the meaning of this, Grim?” Einarr challenges me. “Kill him.”
“He may be useful. Do not test me, Einarr. Age, what is it?” I bring my focus back to the boy.
“Sixteen, sir,” he says nervously.
“Sixteen? You’re nothing but a babe,” I comment, running my fingers over the scruff on my chin.
“I am no babe!” he spits, and his eyes enlarge to the point where I can see all of the white.
I laugh. It’s deep and carries all over the land. My men follow suit and laugh with me.
“Aye, you aren’t anything but a wee one. Tell me, how does a young bloke such as yourself know anything about the girl?”
“The Jackals found out you are interested in Princess Sassa Leif, the King of the North’s daughter.” The little shit outs me in front of everyone, but I keep my temper. I don’t want to give anything away.
“What of her?”
“She is without a man, but the Jackals have threatened to take her. A move to prove that they are more powerful than you.”
“No one is more powerful than Grimkael. Everyone knows this,” Einarr says.
“Take the boy to the jail and leave him there. He is of use to us.” I spin on my heels, my long fur cloak fanning out as I stride toward my cabin. I do not want anyone to see my weakness right now. He pushed too many buttons. He knew too many things of the truth to be called a liar.
I stomp up the stairs of my cabin and slam the door behind me. I should be more careful. The wood is old and not in the best condition, but it is home.
The door opens and closes again, and by the sound of the harsh breathing, it is Einarr. “What?” I ask. I turn around and take off my belt and cloak, letting the cold air wrap around my bare torso.
“What was that boy talking about? Was he right? Do you have plans to wed the King’s daughter? How the hell will you manage that, Grim?” Einarr’s jaw clenches, causing the muscle to tick. His eyes spew fire as he stares at me. The scar on his face pulses from anger and the shaved sides of his head show the tribal tattoos of our people. He is my fiercest, most loyal friend and warrior, and I owe him the truth.
“Yes, he is right. I don’t know how he knows that. I haven’t told anyone. I’ve been waiting. I want us to become allies with King Leif.”
“And you plan to do that by wedding his daughter? What makes you think he would hand over his one and only girl?” He lifts his disfigured brow at me.
“I shall threaten him. Either give me the girl or have a war on his hands. A war he knows he cannot win.” I walk around him and head back outside.
The night is beautiful, and the women are watching their children play, safely in the village. I place my hands on my hips and watch everything around me. All these people, they look up to me to protect them. They count on me to give them what they need, and the women and children here need a Queen. I need someone by my side, someone strong.
And King Leif’s daughter seems to be very strong-willed. Something that gets me harder than a boulder.
“And what if you don’t even like her. You have never seen her,” he says, standing next to me with his arms crossed and a stubborn look etched on his face. Einarr is a brutal man. Has been since we were wee ones. I have always given people chances if I found they deserve it, but not Einarr.
He has had it harder than most of us, including me. My father was never the type to take in strays like I am. He liked to keep us pure of dirty blood, and that is exactly what he thought Einarr was. Einarr isn’t a Viking, at least not by blood, but he is by heart. When he was a boy, I’d meet him on the south of the cliffs, and we would play for hours with sticks as swords. He told me his parents had died and it was just him. He had run from the Scottish command, not wanting to become one of their slaves, when I ran across him by the only cave near the village. My father wouldn’t take him in. So Einarr lived in the caves for the majority of his life.
All because of his dirty blood.
The words to this day make my lips curl with anger, and if I could, I’d kill my father all over again.
Once my father died, and I earned my place as Warlord, I had Einarr take a blood oath. We cut our palms and dripped our blood into each other’s wounds, binding us as brothers. Now, he is my second, the best warrior I’ve known, but because of his life before this one, that is what makes him a force to be reckoned with.
“I want you and I to go there, but I want to stake out the land. I want to see her, but from what I’ve heard, her beauty is something the goddesses would envy,” I say. A child runs by, giggling and lifting his hands to me, opening and closing his palms, signaling me to pick him up.
I grunt, bend over and toss him in the air before catching him. “Again!” the small boy giggles.
I don’t listen to the order of others much, but when it is such a strong Viking child, I listen. “Aye!” I chuckle, throwing him in the air even higher and catch him in my hands.
“Andri! Grimkael, I apologize. He just bolted when he saw you.” Hilda, one of the women we saved from the last battle, clutches her dress in her hands as she runs. Her breasts bounce, and Eina
rr curses from the sight. She is a beautiful woman. She has long red hair, green eyes, and big breasts, but she loves to agree with everything everyone says, and I don’t want that in a woman.
“It is fine, Hilda. I enjoy the young one.” I turn him over on his stomach, grab him by the shirt on his back, and spin him in circles. “Down you go,” I say and set him on his feet. He runs back to his mother and jumps in her arms.
“I’m cooking tonight. It’s just a bit of chicken and potatoes. You and Einarr are more than welcome to come over,” she tells us as she bounces Andri on her hip.
I see the knowing gleam in her eye. She wants more than dinner. The way she looks Einarr and I up and down gives away her plan. I slap Einarr on the back. “I’m afraid I have plans tonight, but I’m sure Einarr would love to join you.”
She smiles brightly. “I’ll see you tonight then, Einarr.”
“Aye, Hilda!” He grunts from her retreating form, watching her ass sway.
“You ride with me in the morning. We are going North. Enjoy your time tonight. It will be your last for a while,” I tell him.
He waves me off as he strolls away, following Hilda to her cabin. My brows raise. I guess he wants something before dinner.
“Hello, Grim!” come voices in the crowd.
I nod my head to a few people as they pass before going back inside my home. I crack my knuckles and sit on the floor in front of the fire roaring, heating my skin until I sweat. It will be a long ride tomorrow, one that is long and unforgiving. But my gut is telling me it will be worth it, and I’m never one to ignore my gut.
I take out my knife and tease the sharp edge on my finger as I run it up and down the silver body. I lift it up and toss it behind my head. It flips through the air and hits the wall with a hard thud. I smirk, knowing I always hit my target.
And Sassa Leif is exactly that.
I stand up and walk over to where the knife sticks out of the wall. “Be ready to be mine, Sassa.” My voice echoes into the empty room as I yank the blade free. It gleams against the flicker of the flame, reflecting my confident smirk.
She has no idea what is coming.
Chapter Five
Sassa
My fever finally broke, and after days of rest, I’m climbing out my window again against my father’s orders, with a book in my hand. I tuck the novel in the bosom of my dress and climb down the green vines next to the window. I would not know what to do if those weren’t there. I wouldn’t be able to escape the confinement my father loves to put me in.
I let out a breath before I jump, landing in the soft grass that tickles my bare feet. The sun is setting, and the night is beautiful. I decide to take my time walking to my secret spot in the woods. The stars are out by the millions. I look up and instantly feel engulfed from the size of the sky. The darkness above holds hues of blue and purple, and it makes me wish I lived out in the open where I can look at the endless night sky as I go to sleep.
Cold air flows against my skin, making the hair on my arms stand up. I take the book out from my dress and place it against my chest as I walk. I never feel more like myself than when I am outdoors, feeling the sun or the moon on my face, breathing the fresh air, or smelling the sweet scent of morning glories blooming as dawn breaks.
I feel more at home with all those things than when I set foot in the castle. My dad tries, but sometimes, I see how different we are, and I can’t help but feel a pang in my chest with how distant I really feel.
The flash of a lightning bug catches my attention, changing the direction of my thoughts. I smile when it starts to fly away, and I run after it, seeing if I can catch it. I never will. I will never want to catch something that is meant to be free. I laugh when the lightning bug changes direction, and I hop over a log, splashing into a large muddy pool of water. Aala won’t be happy about another dress being ruined.
Oh, well.
By the time I get to the familiar clearing, I’m panting from the chase the small bug gave. Sweats drips between my breasts, soaking my nightgown. I wave my hand in front of my face, trying to create a breeze to cool my cheeks, but it isn’t working. I set the book down, leaning it against the old tree, and tiptoe to the river that divides the land.
My toes curl against the soft ground. I look to my left and right, checking to make sure I’m alone. I roll my eyes at myself. Of course I’m alone. It is late, and no one knows of this spot. I unbutton the top of my nightgown and wiggle out of the white, long material and place it against the bank.
A King’s daughter does not get naked at night to go for a late swim. I’m not a typical princess, but it still makes me feel naughty. Like I have a dirty little secret no one will know about.
I’m not the kind of girl who dips her toe in the water to test it out. I step back a few steps and run, jumping until I land in the middle of the river. It’s deep, and my feet never touch as I sink under the water. The cold ripple caresses my body, dancing with me like a lover. I swim to the surface and take a deep breath, treading the water with my legs to keep myself afloat.
The only sounds out here are the hooting of owls, the singing of crickets, and the water moving as I swim against the slight current. It’s so peaceful. I turn onto my back and watch for shooting stars over the tree-line.
My breasts break the surface, and my nipples turn hard and sensitive from the air nipping at them. I shut my eyes and drift with the water, letting my mind take me to a place I find myself going more often than not these days.
I imagine myself with a strong man, perhaps a man that has seen war and has scars. I want to run my hands down each mark that graces his hard body, exploring each divot and curve he possesses. His hair will be long and untamed, wild like his soul. And when I look into his eyes, not only will intelligence shine back at me, but dominance. He is fierce and loyal to a fault. He is rough around the edges but knows his way around a woman’s body.
My body has never been touched by another. He will own me, claim me, and make me his, as his large hands make me feel small, yet treasured. His fingers will glide over my nipples, teasing the small buds until he pinches them, rolling the beads between his fingers and make me moan his name.
Just the thought has me slicing one hand through the water and groping my own tit. I run my finger over the pink nub, and gasp, my eyes flying open from how much pleasure I feel. I swallow with nerves and a bit of embarrassment. I’ve never pleasured myself before, but there is something in the night tonight. Something… forbidden. And it’s making me feel like I might lose all control.
I run my frozen fingertips down my sternum, circling my navel, causing my stomach to quake from the sensual self-pleasure. I gulp as I get closer to my most private area. My breaths come out in loud pants that disturb the night. My fingers brush through the thick, unruly hair of my pussy and slide through my folds.
They are slick, from my filthy thoughts of a man I don’t even know. I touch myself, trying to discover what can make me feel good, but nothing is working. I sigh, frustrated that I can’t even please myself. If I can’t please myself, how shall I please my future husband? I go to take my hand away from my aching warmth when my fingers brush against a bundle of very sensitive nerves.
I pull my hand away with shock, wondering if I should try again. Tentatively, I reach down and strum my finger across the swollen nerve, gasping from the sensation.
“Oh,” I gasp with a breathless moan. Why haven’t I tried this sooner?
I conjure up the image of my dream man in my mind again and rub harder against the pleasure spot. His hard muscles will gleam against the moonlight as he swims with me. He’ll wrap his strong arms around my body and push me against the river’s wall, caging me in like a wild animal. His hair will be wet, dripping from water onto his round, built shoulders.
The length between his legs will grow and push against my entrance, robbing my breath from nerves and anticipation to feel his size stretching my virgin walls. His growl will be deep and will rumble so loud that the
vibrations are passed to my chest, tickling my nipples in the best way.
My fingers move faster over the bundle, and my eyes fly open when my body convulses, and my stomach flips. My entire body heats for a second as a feeling of euphoria zaps my body like lightning. I can’t contain my moan. My mind flashes back to the scene I made up, and I pretend I moan my ecstasy into my lover’s ear, causing him to come before he can even get all the way inside me.
Oh, the thought of feeling his warmth against my slit causes my body to spark once more from the aftershocks of my orgasm. I flip onto my stomach and swim to shore, folding my arms on the grass to lay my head in exhaustion. I’m panting. I feel wrung out but elated at the same time. My limbs tingle, and my heart is pounding, drumming against my chest from the excitement.
A shy smile curls my lips, and I hide it with my forearm. I feel like a vixen for what I just did. Thyra would be scolding me. She doesn’t think a woman should touch herself until she is alone with her husband.
The thought makes me roll my eyes. I’m not the kind to listen to a man, so why would I count on a man to please me? I love Thyra like a sister, but no man shall ever control my body unless I ask him to. Everyone thinks differently, and that is what makes humanity so beautiful. I just hope Thyra will see one day that she can count on herself and realize whatever idea she has for a man, can’t be as good as what she can give herself.
I think she struggles with her own body, and that is why she spews that stuff. Thyra isn’t like most women in the kingdom. She has a fuller figure, big, bountiful breasts, and a large rear, but her waist is small, and she has lips that pout naturally and eyes the color of emeralds. She doesn’t realize how beautiful she really is, and until she sees that, she will continue to make excuses.
I slip back into the water and lay my feet against the river wall, digging my feet in the mud and push off, floating on my back again. After the euphoric feeling from a few minutes ago, the stars even seem brighter. Right as I’m about to drift my hand down to the pleasure spot again, because I am nowhere near done exploring that, a twig snaps in the distance. It makes me flip over onto my stomach and move my eyes to the dark depth of the forest.
The Viking's Bride (Viking Warriors Book 1) Page 3
