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“Well, maybe Wruk tried to—I mean, I don’t exactly know. I’d just been thrown from the horse, you see. Didn’t even remember waking much before that, was in and out of consciousness, and dreams. He said something and mayhap I took it the wrong way—”
“What did he say?” I growl.
“I was a prize to be won. And I was half-crazed, you see. Couldn’t remember anything about who I was or how I got there. I attacked him, killed him.”
“And the others?”
“They were shocked over everything that happened, of course. It was so quick, everything happened so fast. They resented me too. How could they not? Because of that, they were cruel to me. Making me cook and clean.”
But there’s something more she’s not mentioning. Because my foretelling was that if she returned to her home while with child, she’d destroy the village.
“Have they touched you? Did I remind you of it when I kissed you?”
She stares at me wide-eyed, her sweet lips partly open. “Goddess, no. Never. You could never remind me of them.”
And part of me relaxes, a part that I didn’t know held onto so much tension. But she’s frowning and something makes me think she still holds back some truth. At least I know she wasn’t touched, though. I’ll get more out of her later.
“You don’t remember anything else other than waking up and killing the king?” I ask.
“Nay. But bits and pieces come back to me every now and then. Little things, if I don’t try to think about them.”
“Like?”
“Like when I made my mourning tats. I remembered I had to wash my hands to prevent infection. Why would that dawn on me?” She shrugs.
“You made your own?” I lean forward to peer closely, because I’m a foolish, lovesick male who will look for any excuse to be near her.
My heart is hammering in my chest. I want nothing more than to reach out and touch her skin. I’m hot all over, my muscles rigid.
A flush crawls up her chest, higher to her neck, and ends tingeing her cheeks.
She is as affected by my nearness as I am to her.
“What will your tribe think when you bring me to your village?” she rasps.
I curl a lock of her hair around my finger. She licks her lips—her kiss-swollen lips. That little tongue peeking out to wet her lips shoots a spear of need straight down to my cock.
“They will think I brought you home. They will be curious as to why you’re different. They’ll know something is different between us because while I was always protective, this time I won’t let you out of my sight. They’ll know that I accept you as mine now, and will give us a space.”
She stiffens when I mention she’s mine and changes the subject. “Y-yes. I made my own braids up until I greased my hair. Nothing intricate, just two. Do you braid yours?” she asks, and her hand twitches like she’s about to reach out to touch.
“Nay,” I breathe, and then lean forward to nuzzle her neck. I feel her swift inhale of breath. “You’ve been braiding my hair since you were seven. I was young enough not to know how awful it was.”
She bursts out laughing and pushes me away. “Well, thankfully, that’s one thing I have forgotten,” she teases. “Hence why I wore two rather loose ones.”
Because her hair is loose now, and I want to run my fingers through it.
“Shall we hunt for fresh meat together, sweet? Wild fowl or rabbit?”
She brightens. “Oh, yes. I’m so tired of fish. But we were near a creek so...”
“Understandable,” I murmur. But with five males in her fake-clan, there should have been two out hunting while three protected the female. And since she was injured, one should have been doing clan duties. But with as gaunt as she is, I have no doubt they put her to work.
That could be why her injury hasn’t healed and she doesn’t remember her past. Probably couldn’t sleep during the days of healing afterward and... I have to force my hands to unclench.
I’ll kill those biernaks. I’ll string them up, one by one and deliver them to their old clans in pieces over a period of years.
“What was your role in the clan?” I ask her.
