by Lee Savino
Stifling a laugh, I went on. “Speaking of rabbit, if Ulf brings back a few of those, I can make a stew...”
The moon was high and my throat was hoarse from speaking before Haakon’s breathing evened out.
Biting my lip, I rose, wincing at the pins and needles in my foot. The rest of my body was stiff and sore, but I would not complain. Not when a great warrior lay on the ground, suffering for saving my life.
If someone had told me earlier today that I would play nursemaid to a warrior who dragged me from my home, I would have screamed and fainted. But in the cool night air, my head was clear. I owed a debt to Haakon, and would pay it, but once I was sure he would live, I would escape.
Now he lay with sweat beaded on his forehead and a pallor to his skin I didn’t like. The worst of the cuts had healed, leaving not even a scar, but the greater injuries were unseen.
He needed more water, preferably broth.
What if he woke and Ulf had not returned? I only had a little dried meat. I nibbled on one strip as I searched for a smooth rock with a small hollow. When I found one boulder, I used the water to wipe it clean. I could soak some of the dried venison and soften it for Haakon. I would need more water.
When I rose from the rock, a shadow fell over me and I gasped.
“Quiet,” came Ulf’s harsh whisper. “Do not wake him.”
I pressed a hand my chest, where my heart fluttered wildly. This warrior’s large, powerful body, his rough voice, his ruined face, it all intimidated me. But he wasn't as horrifying as I thought the first time I saw him.
“How long has my warrior brother been sleeping?”
“Not long. He remained awake, I think, to watch over me.”
Now Ulf’s golden eyes rested on me. “What were you doing up?”
“This,” I showed him the rock and explained my plan to soften meat for him.
Ulf shook his head. “I will go hunt now, and feed the choicest bits to him. Eat the rest of the meat. It is for you.”
“I do not want it,” I said as my stomach growled.
Ulf’s hands closed on my arms. I quailed under his direct gaze. “Don’t lie to me, little one.”
“I am hungry,” I admitted. “But I do not know if I can eat much.”
His tone was stern, but there was a startling gentleness in his touch. “You must eat, Laurel. Our enemies are about, and when Haakon heals, we’ll have a long journey ahead of us. You must stay strong. Do not make his sacrifice for naught.”
When I took the meat and tore it with my teeth, Ulf released me and stalked to his brother’s side, gliding along like a living shadow. He wouldn’t have need of a bow and arrow to hunt, if he moved so quietly. Goosebumps rose all over my body as it reacted to the presence of a predator.
I shivered. Haakon might not be a threat to me, but Ulf could easily force me to his will.
I had to discover what these men wanted with me.
No. No need for that, I chastened myself. I had to escape.
“He looks feverish.” Ulf beckoned to me.
“He said it was the healing magic.” I wrung my hands, wishing I was not so useless. I did not know what herbs could break a fever. My orphan sisters would, but for all I knew they were scattered to the four winds, captives of more of these warriors.
Haakon coughed, and we both turned. Red spittle dotted the side of his mouth, but he did not wake. I knelt beside him and used a scrap of cloth I’d torn from my shift to wipe it away. When I laid a gentle hand on his forehead, the suffering warrior stilled under my touch. Rigid muscles relaxed.
When I turned back to Ulf, he was watching me, not quite a frown on his face.
“He’s burning up. He needs water,” I said.
Ulf did not move, and I swallowed my annoyance. I would not be afraid of this man. “Very well.” I gathered my shift and rose. “I’ll fetch it myself.”
He caught my arm before I could walk past him. “You will not run from us. There is no sense in trying to escape.” My throat was too dry to answer. I stared into his golden eyes, so beautiful in the harsh, scarred face.
He seemed to realize he’d bared his ruined cheek to me and averted his face. “There is a stream close by. I will walk you to it.”
As he guided me through the brush, he kept me on his unmarred side. He’d been a handsome man, before the scars.
When we were walking back, his hand still clamped on my arm, Ulf spoke again.
“I muddied our trail so the Corpse King will send his forces searching the wrong way. I’ll leave soon to hunt, and won’t return until I have a kill.” His hands dipped to my waist to lift me over a wet patch of ground. Again, heat flared to life inside me. I pressed my lips together to keep from gasping. The way these warriors affected me was starting to disturb me. I certainly wasn’t going to let them know how I felt.
They hadn’t yet noticed. At least, I didn’t think so.
Ulf’s face was unreadable as a stone wall. “You did not build a fire. Do you not know how?”
“Haakon preferred I stay by his side. He wanted me to tell him stories.”
“Stories?”
“I told him of the food I would make for him. I can make a broth, but you must get me some things.” I rattled off the list I’d thought of, catching my breath when he adjusted his grip on my arm, making my body pulse with excitement.
“I can get those things. Most of them. I do not know what tarragon is.”
“An herb,” I said. “You may be able to find it—”
“I do not know herbs.” He cut me off in a tone that told me he didn’t care to learn.
“I only wish to be sure the broth tastes good,” I snapped and pushed away from the frowning warrior. I enjoyed a moment of freedom until the leafy ground gave way to gravel and my foot slipped. Ulf caught me before I fell.
“You all right?”
Pressed against him, my curves molded to his muscles too well. I gave a stiff nod, cheeks heating. I refused to look at him, and he let me go.
“Take more care.” Was it me, or did his voice sound bitter? “As for the broth, we’ve choked down everything but rotted meat. This will be a fresh kill. You needn’t worry about the taste.”
“I might be able to find something in the woods to use,” I muttered.
He grabbed my hand, gripping tightly. “If you think you’re allowed to leave and roam about the forest, you are mistaken.”
I glared. “Very well.”
Ulf stared at me for a beat before his lips twitched. Then he jerked his chin. “Haakon’s awake.”
The fallen warrior was alert but pale.
“Still alive, brother?” Haakon asked.
“That’s what I was going to ask you. How did your nursemaid fare?”
Haakon grinned at me as I scrambled over the rocks to get to his side. “She is pretty but cruel. Did she tell you how she tortured me with tales of good meat?”
“She did. Soon that will not be just a story.”
Haakon drank very, very slowly. I held the skin to his lips and gave him breaks, wetting the cloth and laying it over his forehead.
“Thank you, lass,” Haakon said, and I hushed him.
“Thank me by saving your strength and getting well.”
He did as I bid, a half smile on his face.
Meanwhile, Ulf stacked kindling in a pile and quickly built a fire. The flames cast a mottled light over his marred face.
I gasped. I knew how he’d gotten his scars.
Ulf shot me a look and I pressed a hand to my mouth.
“It was a fire,” he said as if reading my thoughts. “My enemies tried to trap me in a burning lodge. Haakon pulled me out.”
“Not much kills a Berserker,” Haakon added. “But whatever the healer used to heal his skin made him scar.”
Ulf turned away with a growl.
“He doesn’t like to talk about it,” Haakon told me in a low voice. “I would avoid the subject, and take care whenever you build a fire.”
“I shall,” I promised. I wouldn’t dream of bringing up the subject of Ulf’s face. Not only did it seem to bother him, but it was dreadfully rude.
Haakon drank all the contents of one waterskin, I rose to get the second, but had to pass close to Ulf to get it.
When he rose suddenly, I startled.
“Do I frighten you?” he said in a harsh tone.
“No,” I said carefully. “No more than he does.” I nodded to Haakon.
“You are frightened?” Haakon asked as I knelt beside him with the fresh waterskin. “That’s not what I scent in you.”
“Of course I am frightened. You kidnapped me.”
“Saved you,” Haakon corrected.
“Yes, well, I didn’t know I needed saving.” I wiped the invalid’s brow, wondering if he was stronger than he looked.
“And now?”
I sat back on my haunches. Something about Haakon’s helpless state made me honest. “I do not know who is more dangerous. You or the ones you say are after me.”
“We are both dangerous, little love,” Haakon said, taking the cloth from me. His knuckles brushed the side of my bosom and I jumped. His touch woke tingles in my skin and a sudden awareness in my body. “Dangerous in different ways. But you can trust us.”
I made myself nod stiffly, even though my body wanted to lean into him, soothed by his crooning tone. I had to keep my wits about me. I had to survive.
Haakon raised a brow. “You clung to me tightly enough when I kissed you.”
Pressing my lips together, I shook my head. I didn’t need to think about that kiss. My first. A man’s lips claiming mine.
And such a man! Even lying bloodied on the ground, he was a sight to behold. Arms corded with muscle, his legs like tree trunks.
I leaned over him to wash away some rusty streaks on his left arm and he caught me in a grip strong as a healthy man’s.
“You smell sweet, like a flower. Like a mountain laurel.” He brought my fingers to his lips.
“I’m sure it’s not proper to speak so.”
He barked a laugh. “Proper? Is that what they taught you in the abbey?”
“Yes, to be kind and sweet, and always obey.” I tossed my hair, chin jutting up haughtily, all the while pressing my legs together. I felt very hot and strange. There was a trickling wetness between my thighs, but I had just finished my courses. Surely they weren’t upon me again.
“Do you always obey? You did not in the kitchen.”
I hesitated. Lying was a sin, and the warriors didn’t seem to like it. “I do not often obey.”
“We will have to train you then, little love. Although, being naughty can be very delicious indeed.”
I was about to inform him how it wasn’t proper to speak of that, either, when Ulf cleared his throat behind us.
Haakon
You’re supposed to be healing, brother. Not tricking our mate into bed. Ulf sounded disapproving, but he raised his head to sniff the air, his eyes sparked gold. The woman’s warm, floral scent rose in waves, stronger with every passing moment. Her bosom filled my vision. Pale and heaving. She blinked rapidly, her plump lips slightly parted.
Her heat is almost upon her, I reported. She responds to us.
Enough, Haakon. You must rest.
Spoiling my fun already? But he was right. I needed to sleep, though I did not look forward to it. The magic curled around my bones, knitting them together in the most efficient, if painful, way. My dreams would be of torment. I’d rather stay awake, with the raven-haired vision before me. Even in a torn and dirty shift, my little nursemaid inspired the most delightful stirrings in my—
“Laurel,” Ulf interrupted again. “I’m leaving on the hunt. Can I trust you with my brother?”
“Yes,” she raised her chin. “You did so before.”
“I want your word.”
“I want him to live.” Her voice softened as she turned to me. “You saved my life. I owe you and will repay the debt.”
“An orphan with a sense of honor?” Ulf raised his brow. Laurel didn’t appreciate his mocking.
“More than I can say of you, barging in to steal me away in the middle of the night,” she snapped, and flushed when she realized how she had challenged her captors. Before she could cringe, I caught her wrist.
“Did not still your tongue,” I grinned. “I like it.”
“I’ll fetch more water before I go,” Ulf said. She should not abandon you now.
Was there a chance she would?
She looks longingly at the forest.
She’s looks with more longing on me. I stretched gingerly, spreading my legs a little. It hurt, but Laurel’s blush when her eyes fell at the apex of my legs was worth it.
So you say, Ulf returned and flung the waterskins down, narrowly missing my head. Too late I remembered he was sensitive about his scars.
She looks at you, too, brother, I told him too late. He’d already strode off, disappearing into the forest, leaving me with the pale, sweet miss.
“Are we safe here?” she blurted out.
“Safe enough. Ulf will see we remain so.” I forced a smile to my lips. I hated being so weak.
Laurel shivered and tucked her knees to her chest. It was the darkest part of the night, and even the fire couldn’t keep the terror of the darkness away.
“Come to me, lass,” I breathed, reaching for her. She shrank from me before she remembered herself. “I won’t hurt you.”
“You are ill. You cannot hurt me.”
Even with a broken back, I could still overpower her, but I didn’t mention it.
“Lie here,” I patted the ground at my side.
She bit her lip, looking tired and miserable.
“I offer my warmth and nothing more. I won’t take anything you don’t want to give.”
With a jerky nod, she moved to settle close by. She lay stiff at my side.
With a groan, I slid my arm around her shoulders.
“Haakon, no, you should not—”
“Hush.” I squeezed her to my side. After a bit she relaxed.
“Sleep, little one. It’s been a trying night.”
“I don’t think I can,” she whispered. I tightened my hold, wishing I could roll atop her and lick and suck her curves and secret places, wearing her out with pleasure. She’d sleep then, and have good dreams. As if she could read my thoughts, her scent, which had mellowed, grew pungent again. She shivered, but her face was flushed. When she tried to pull away, I caught her close.
“What’s wrong, lass?”
“I do not feel well,” she muttered.
“Have you felt this way before?”
“No,” came her soft answer. Her legs moved restlessly, but I didn’t let her go. “I’m sure it’ll pass.”
My fingers slipped from her arm to the curve of her chest. As I stroked the smooth skin of her arm, she sucked in a breath but didn’t stop me.
“You enjoy laying here with me.”
“No,” she huffed.
“You are lying, little love. Do not try deceive me.” I said firmly, then lowered my voice. “Now tell me, what do you feel?”
Her voice came very small. “I don’t know.”
“You are hungry for your mates.”
“No,” she protested, and I moved my hand up to collar her neck.
“Another lie. I warned you, little love. Speak false again, and you will be punished.”
Her pulse jumped under my fingers, but the air filled with her sweet scent.
“You are not afraid of me. You are afraid of how you feel.”
“You don’t understand,” she whispered. “I’m a good girl. I should not feel such things.”
I clasped her chin and brushed a thumb over her lips.
“You are our mate. You respond as you should.” My hand slid down her chest, tracing the pale hills of her cleavage.
“I don’t know what’s happening to me.” Her voice was so broken, I stopped my teasing fingers.
“Ca
lm yourself, little love. You have nothing to fear. We took you from the abbey for this purpose. You will serve as our mate, and we will cherish you always.”
A little whimper escaped her throat, but she clung to me.
“Soon you will understand.” I stroked her hair until her body melted into mine, her breathing growing even as she slipped into her dreams.
Wishing I could hold her properly, I followed her into sleep. It had been a century since I’d held a woman safely in my arms. I looked forward to a new day with my blushing, virginal mate and her honeyed scent.
But when I woke, she was gone.
Laurel
A pang of guilt pained my heart as I crept from Haakon’s side. He lay in heavy slumber, barely twitching when a butterfly wafted over his face and landed on his knee. The daylight lined his peaceful face, and the ravaged lines of his body. He was healing, but the angry weals and broken skin told me he would spend this day, at least, prone and still healing.
An ordinary man would be dead.
I should stay and nurse him, and keep my promise. But his touch in the darkest hours of the night woke feelings I could not control, feelings best left in slumber.
So I left one waterskin and took the other, and slipped away.
I found the path Ulf had lead me on in the dark. Had it been only one night? I was still tired, my body aching from the fall.
My legs burned after a few steps. I’d lived my life in the shelter of the abbey, rarely straying beyond its walls. At times my errands sent me to the village to buy a special meat or spice, but since I’d grown into a woman, I found others to go in my place. Men stared at my curvy body as if I were a piece of meat they wished to buy. I was happy to stay in the kitchen, slaving over the hot pots and oven, only leaving to pick an herb or gather the harvest.
How had I come to be here, stumbling through a forest, guilt gnawing me for leaving my captor and my savior lying at the foot of the cliff.
Brambles tore at my ragged shift, and I tugged the garment close to my body. I might as well be naked for all the protection the thin fabric gave me.
No wonder Haakon looked at me with such hunger.
And yet, he was gentle. He both shocked and soothed me, and seemed to want nothing more than to stand between me and my fear. One night, and I could not imagine leaving him. Or Ulf—as stern as he was, careful to keep the scarred side of his face turned away so as not to scare me. Could I survive without their protection? If the Corpse King really was out there, ready to harm me, was it wise to run from the warriors’ protection?
