Lord of Raven's Peak (Viking Era 3)

“She will tell you tomorrow night, Erik.” Merrik reached out his hand, and without hesitation, she placed her own in his. He pulled her upright. She fell forward, against his chest, and he laughed a little, stroking her hair with familiarity as he did so. He held her there as he said, “I told you she was thin. She is. So thin you would look at her only once and tell her to leave you. Also, her hair is short and ragged, as you see, not as full and thick like your wife’s or your mistresses’.”

Laren heard a laugh and knew it was from the woman Caylis.

She saw Sarla from the corner of her eye. How could Erik shame his wife like this? It enraged her. Before she could say anything, Merrik leaned down and kissed her hard.

The shock of it rendered her immediately silent. He laughed again, gave his brother a small salute, and picked her up in his arms. She didn’t move, barely breathed in fact until he laid her upon the box bed that had belonged to his brother before their parents had died.

The chamber was small and dark. Merrik cursed under his breath, left the chamber, and soon returned with a lit oil lamp. There were wool blankets on the bed and atop those were otter and reindeer skins traded from the Lapps in the North. There was a beautiful large chest at the foot of the bed, nothing else.

Merrik walked to the entrance of the chamber, pulled the skin aside and looked out. Erik was nowhere to be seen. Hopefully he was with Sarla. All was quiet, save for the snores from some of the men and the few moans and giggles from the men and women enjoying themselves before sleep came.

He cursed again, and once more left the chamber. Laren didn’t move, just stared at the bearskin that covered the entrance. When he came back there was a soapstone jar in his hand.

He said briefly, “The cream for your back and leg. Take off your clothes.”

She didn’t move. “Why did you kiss me?”

“For my brother’s benefit. To show him my possession of you.”

“But everyone was watching.”

He shrugged, and said matter-of-factly, “I know. It will keep Erik’s men away from you as well. Obey me now. I am tired and wish to sleep.”

She didn’t want to take off her clothes in front of him, didn’t want to repel him with her thinness. It hadn’t mattered to her before but it did now for the simple reason that now she cared what he thought. No, she didn’t want to have t

o obey that command. It was as if she didn’t matter, who she was and what she was—it was entirely unimportant to him. It was Taby he wanted, not her, Taby he cared about, not her. Erik was right about that. She said nothing to him, nothing at all. She tried to remember that if he hadn’t saved her from Thrasco, she would surely be dead now. But that wasn’t true. She had escaped from Thrasco on her own. She would have managed. She owed him only for saving Taby.

She didn’t know what to do.

She wanted very much for him to kiss her again, but of course he would never kiss her freely, never because he wanted to, never because of desire for her. Quite simply, there was no one for her, no one save a five-year-old child.

Suddenly the terror of the last two years, of the endless weeks that had flowed into months and beyond, that endless time of hopelessness, of rage and fury that had eaten at her deeply and more deeply still as time passed, it all welled up in her then and she felt herself crushed under the weight of it. It erupted and she couldn’t prevent it. She began to sob, deep ugly sobs that shook her whole body. She buried her face in her hands, hating the ugly sounds that showed him her weakness, but the wave upon wave of grinding pain wouldn’t cease. The helplessness, the fear, the bitterness, all were there, pulling at her, defeating her. She tried desperately to gain control, for she didn’t want him to see how pathetic she was, she didn’t want anyone to see it, but the sobs were deeper now, a part of her, and they wouldn’t stop.

Merrik stood by the bed simply staring down at her. His first thought was that Erik had terrified her. Then he knew that wasn’t the case. She wasn’t some gutless female. No, she was a survivor. Surely Erik’s lust would have no effect on her, at least not this effect. But she sounded as if her very world had ended.

He set the cream on the bed, sat down, and without a word, pulled her into his arms. He rubbed his large hands down her back, only to remember that her back must still be sore from the beating Thrasco had given her. He rubbed her scalp, just holding her with one arm loose around her back. He said things to her, words that had little meaning to him, to her, just words, but their tone was gentle and reassuring, and he supposed, vaguely, that was what was important. He realized he might be holding Taby, stroking him, telling him everything would be all right because he, Merrik, was here now and he would take care of him, he would protect him with his life.

She moved against him and then he felt her breasts.

She wasn’t a child and he felt like a fool. No, she wasn’t a child and he felt a surge of lust for her. It was unexpected and he didn’t like it. She was Taby’s sister. It was just that it had been a long time since he’d had a woman, too long. But, of course, he remembered the softness of her, the feel of her when she’d hugged herself to him in Kaupang.

He didn’t intend it, but he kissed her temple, felt her soft hair tickle his cheek, his nose.

“It’s all right,” he said again, but now his voice was deep and hoarse with his burgeoning need. “I won’t hurt you.”

Her breath caught in her throat and she hiccuped. His hands came around to close around her chin and he lifted her face. Tears were wet on her cheeks and she was gulping for breath. Her eyes and nose were red, her hair was loose from its braids and straggling over her forehead. She looked as appetizing as a gutted herring, and he thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

And he wanted her.

In that moment, he forgot Taby, forgot that this was Taby’s sister. He leaned forward and kissed her. The second time. He tasted the salty tears, and something else, something sweet and dark and mysterious, something that had no part of either of them separately, but something that was both magical and an odd enchantment when he touched her mouth, when the two of them came together. It was something he’d never experienced before; it was something he wanted for himself, and he wanted it badly. He was a man with a man’s needs and she was here alone with him. She belonged to him.

She wasn’t moving. Yet he wanted her even more now. He kissed her again, harder this time, willing her to part her lips, but he realized suddenly that she very probably had no idea what to do. And that stopped him cold. She was innocent in deed, if not in what she had witnessed during the last two years.

She didn’t know how to kiss him. He started to say something, to pull away from her, but suddenly, she leaned forward, her hand came up to touch his cheek, and she kissed him. Her lips were soft and firmly together and she just pressed them to his mouth, but it was a kiss and it was she who was freely offering it. A virgin’s kiss.

He opened his mouth slightly and let the tip of his tongue lightly touch her mouth. She jumped. Then, to his surprise and pleasure, she leaned into him, and this time her lips were sightly open as well.

He felt the surge of lust throughout his body, not just his groin. He was swelled and ready, but that wasn’t all there was to it. He felt that mystery again, felt that something deep and still hidden from him, felt it moving within him, pushing him toward her, and knowing even as he felt those odd feelings that coming together with her would change his life. He fought it even as it swamped him, lured him toward her. Surely she was just a woman, and he’d known many women, but at the same time, she was just herself and like none other. He drew away from that. It struck fear in him, for he believed a man must remain unto himself and not give himself over to anyone else, particularly a woman, particularly this woman who was scarce a woman really, just a girl who was so thin that surely she wouldn’t have the strength to take him as a man, and she was Taby’s sister. He had not saved her to ravish her. He had not saved her to hurt her.