I’d said what I came to say, and now I was taking my prize.
Bors
I kept Sara’s small hand tight in mine and never strayed from her side as we walked back the way we came.
As we walked, I did my best to calm my mind. Rage does not make for clear thinking. How such a piece of shit could have given life to Sara beat the hell out of me. All I could imagine was that she took after her mother, but from what Angelica had told me, I guessed that woman was no better.
I wished that I had a home of my own, somewhere I could take her, to guard her, protect her, and give her a better life. To make love to her every morning and fuck her every night.
But for now I didn’t have such luxuries. All I had to offer was the clothes on my back, the bit of coin I’d saved through my years, my strength, and my wits. The only shelter I could give her was Angelica’s house.
It would have to do, at least for now.
I looked down, her youth and innocence clearer now than ever, drawing attention to the age gap, my jaded soul, my battle-scarred body.
“Thank you,” she said, squeezing my hand as we neared Angelica’s cottage and the sun drifted downward on the horizon. “Nobody has ever stood up for me like that before.”
Mine, my mind growled. You’re mine. If I can’t protect what’s mine, I don’t deserve to keep you.
“You should have been your family’s pride and joy, not treated like a servant and spoken to like a…” I fell silent, not willing to utter the word.
Sara nodded. “A dog. I know. He’s worse than you realize, but that’s behind me now. It is, isn’t it?” She turned and met my eyes. “It is behind me?”
“Long behind you,” I agreed. “Tonight, you’ll stay in my room.” I pulled open the gate and handed her the key in my pocket. “First one at the top of the steps.”
She looked puzzled, taking the key. “But you’ll come up with me? Stay close to me?”
I shook my head. She had no fucking idea what would happen if we were alone together in that bedroom. I’d have her on her knees and I’d be roaring in five seconds flat.
“Just put my things in the hallway and I’ll have Angelica collect them later.”
I didn’t want to worry her, but I knew I’d gotten us into some genuinely inconvenient shit: I’d assaulted her father, stolen his daughter, and now was keeping her hidden in the home of a woman the proper village folks found distasteful at best.
I’d seen what a poor reputation had done to Angelica, even with me by her side, and didn’t want the same for Sara. There had been no other choice. Her father had to learn. But that didn’t change facts.
She frowned. “You’re protecting me from gossip. Is that the idea?”
“Gossip fades, you have me to protect you now. I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks.”
She looked ready to protest, but I stopped her short with a firm stare.
“If your father comes looking for you, I’ll be ready. If a village mob gets word that I’ve just returned to town and all but kidnapped you, I’ll be ready. To keep you safe, I’m ready for anything.”
She blinked a few times in quick succession, then exhaled deeply. “And where will you sleep?”
From my belt, I drew my hunting knife and drove the point into an old milking bench on the porch, then sat down next to it. “No sleep. I’ll stay right here. On guard.”
Afternoon turned into evening and the shadows lengthened into night. Every few hours or so, Angelica would come to check on me, bringing me an apple or a bit of bread and butter. She knew me well enough not to try to lure me inside. I was grateful to be left alone with my thoughts, like some lion licking his wounds.
Sara, though, didn’t come down at all. I heard her voice inside, and even a brief moment of laughter between her and Angelica, but she never came out to see me. I had no right to be disappointed, either—it was my idea that I stay outside, and she was doing as she was told. And fuck, every thought I had was of making her do as she was told. Making her follow my commands. To see my cock in her mouth, sweet hands massaging my balls while those green eyes looked up into mine like I was her fucking king.
As the moon rose, I settled down on the porch floor with a blanket and a sack of barley under my head for a pillow. I’d made do with less comfort while on watch for more years than I could count.