The Barbarian's Stolen Bride (Northmen Barbarians 1) - Page 53

“Learn about your enemies,” he grated out and launched himself at me, connecting his elbow with the side of my face and twisting our bodies so now my head was the one that was cracked against the bedpost.

I heard something break and didn’t know if it was the wood or my skull. Stars danced in front of my eyes, and I shook my head wildly, trying to clear my vision, knowing I needed to end this because if I didn’t, he’d go after Prima. I knew that without a doubt.

“You, Audun, and Manning… all of you rule like you’ve earned the right to take these kingdoms.”

“We fucking did earn the right to rule these kingdoms,” I roared.

“What about me?” Stiles slammed his fist against his chest over and over again, the anger pouring off him so tangibly it started to fill the air. “What about the men who fight beside you, risking their lives.”

I didn’t bother correcting him again, telling him that we, too, were at the front of those lines, bringing our swords down, protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves. We’d all come from nothing and had scraped the bottom of what life gave us just to survive.

We’d worked hard. We had been able to overcome many obstacles. We’d become fierce and angry at what we’d been handed. And we had changed our fate because of our life experiences.

We were barbarians and rightfully so.

Did he not know I’d slain and taken this kingdom from a tyrannical monster who used and abused the people he was supposed to protect?

But it sounded like Stiles was one of the same, hungry-for-power bastards, the ones dying for supremacy and dictatorship.

I felt that familiar rage I got on the battlefield rise up inside me.

The sight of my wife frightened as she stood in the corner of our room. The danger being so close to her that it made me physically ill. And knowing if I didn’t handle this and bring this fucker down, he’d hurt her. It all had that anger washing through me and giving me more strength.

But just as I was about to use that power and end this, there was a resounding crack in the room. I watched as his eyes widened a moment after the sound echoed in my bedchamber. Everything around me was a blur, my vision hazy as it solely focused on the bastard in front of me.

But then reality set in, and I slowly looked toward the movement off to the side, saw my tiny wife barely able to hold up one of my old, massive battle shields. The shield was scarred and dented, with chunks missing out of the corners from war. I held onto it because it had sentimental value, reminded me what I'd gone through and what I’d had to do in order to rise above the rest. And the damn thing was nearly as big as she was. But because it was too heavy for her, she was forced to drop it a second later, the shock on her face evident as she stumbled back.

And then I looked at Stiles, watched as a trail of blood slipped down his temple. My little warrior female had cracked that heavy piece of wood over his skull. She’d been protecting me.

Gods… I loved her.

Stiles let out a deep groan, his eyes blinking several times as if he was trying to clear his vision. I watched as he pushed past his pain, probably wanting to just let go and become unconscious, and so I didn’t think twice. Didn’t hesitate.

Prima had tried to save me. Now it was my turn to protect her. Always.

With a deafening roar, I wrapped my hands around his neck, squeezing as tightly as I could, using my strength to lift his big body off the ground. He clawed at my hands, his nails raking against my skin. I felt no pain. I felt nothing but the rush of the fight moving through my veins, the same sensation I got from war.

All I could think about, all I could hear was the blood pounding in my head, in my ears. All I could concentrate on was this man who’d tried to hurt the woman who held my heart in her tiny hands. She was the only person who’d ever been able to penetrate the thick wall of apathy I always had around me.

He’d tried to take her from me, and for that he’d pay with his life.

I focused on that fact until nothing else mattered, until my vision became hazy and wavy, the edges black, my eyes trained on Stiles. And then I saw the blood vessels burst in his eyes, the whites turning pink, and watched as they rolled back in his head. His mouth went slack, his face turning red as the oxygen was cut off.

Tags: Jenika Snow Northmen Barbarians Romance
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