Elara
An unfamiliar weight tightened around her abdomen, something rough gently caressing the wool above her navel. She lay tucked into a vast expanse of furs with a heat not her own.
The scent of rain-soaked wool, charred wood, and something distinctly masculine flooded her senses.
The Dane.
Njáll.
His name rushed back to her from the blur of last night.
Blood rushed in her ears as her eyes slowly fluttered open.
Pale light flittered through the gaps in the wood, casting a beam across a massive body curved along her back. Her fingers twitched above the thick ones draped across her waist, tempted to trace the scars on his knuckles.
Scruff rubbed her cheek where she sat molded under his jaw, tucked perfectly into his body. The closeness comforted her, even if she wanted to pretend it didn’t. Njáll cloaked her in a possessive warmth, making her stomach do a traitorous flip.
The memories of last night came back in a dizzying rush, cutting through the quietude. Icy flashes of the draugars’ suffocating presence made her tremble, the chill of their scarred voices never far off.
Acid splashed the back of her throat, remembering how she clung to him, begging him to stay.
Shame turned her face a deep crimson. Elara promised herself not to give in to the demon, no matter how alluring he was.
This man had torn her world apart. Separated her from her father and had enough blood on his hands to stain his soul.
Yet, he had offered to be her demon, to take her sins as his own. The promise did terrible things to the ache between her thighs, making it worse.
An unfamiliar feeling crawled up her body, flushing the back of her neck and making her stomach cramp. At her most vulnerable, she had found comfort and sanctuary with a demon.
Or maybe a fallen angel.
It was a horrifying betrayal.
A betrayal that tasted like ash and felt like home.
How could she forgive herself?
In a matter of days, she was becoming someone she didn’t recognize. Someone who succumbed to strong arms and scarred muscles. She had never been swayed by superficial things.
Until now.
She held her breath, not wanting to wake him up. Unfortunately, she enjoyed the rhythmic hum of his heart. She wanted to avoid disrupting the tentative peace stretched between them.
And selfishly, she wanted a moment where she didn’t have to feel so alone.
Dried tears still surrounded her eyes. The room might have been quiet, but she still heard the phantom whispers of the draugar from the night before. She pictured her curled form, rocking and sobbing as not even Alruna could keep them at bay.
Njáll must think her mad.
She wouldn’t blame him.
More than once, she’d assumed the haunting voices in the shadows would drive her to madness. They wanted to, weakening her defenses until only a shell of her remained.
A lump bobbed in her throat as she tried to swallow.
Maybe he’d decide she was no longer worth the trouble and would send her home.
The thought consoled and worried her.
