I watch him for a long time, thinking about what he’s said. His gaze never strays from me. “Why are we connected, Fhord?” I ask at last.
“That is a question for another day. Or maybe never. We’ll have to see.”
I narrow my eyes, pushing down the frustration that rises within me at his answer. He knows and it’s annoying as fuck that he won’t give me a simple answer. “Why can’t you tell me what draws us together?”
“Because we both know we can’tbetogether. No matter what. Even if a demanding part of me might want it,” he adds with a glance down at his still engorged groin. “It’ll be easier for both of us if we don’t go down that path.”
I don’t follow his gaze because Fhord’s morning hard-on is the last thing I need to think about right now. “I’ll find out, you know,” I declare. “Probably soon. This thing between us, whatever it is, is going to demand more than either of us can give.”
“That’s why we have to fight it. For both of our sakes. For everyone and everything we care about.”
I watch him another moment. But it’s time to go. “I’m going to clean up,” I tell him as I dig out some clothes. I need to clear my head. Cold water will help. I hope.
We have far to go today and both overslept, so we don’t dally. Fhord apparently relieved himself quickly; he’s up and breaking down the tent when I get back. I pull together a quick breakfast, and we’re on the road within a half hour. It’s a long day, and we’re both exhausted by the time we decide to stop. After another fast meal, we’re asleep just after the sun sets.
I’m alone when I wake up but not surprised. It’s light outside, probably an hour or so after sunrise. I can’t hear anything—Fhord must be foraging or hunting—but I know we’ll have another busy day. Throwing on some clothes, I toss open the tent door.
I see him first. A gag in his mouth, his arms and legs bound together behind his back, Fhord’s lying on the ground with fire sparking from his eyes. Four males sit nearby, their smiles nearly as wide as the legs stretched out in front of them. My gaze is drawn to the male Fhord attacked at the Inn, his grin intentional as he displays the missing teeth that surely drove the bastards to track us down.
I’m positive the fear shows on my face when I see them. I can feel the hair rise on the back of my neck and up and down my arms. My stomach clenches as my heart skips a beat, and then another. But fear is the last thing these males need to see. So I do my best to shift my expression as I think through my options.
I can’t use my magic. Fhord had a reason for taking me to Konungr Erik and asking about the Downfall. If he already suspects I’m an elf, I can’t risk exposing myself to someone who might be close enough to the Dróttning to have some of her power, and recognize mine. These males don’t sit or move like warriors, so I’d probably have a decent chance of taking them down, but I don’t have a sword or even a knife in my hand. That’s the last time I wander around without my weapons.
I don’t have much choice. I’ll need to earn their trust before I can do anything. Suddenly, I’m grateful Fhord was such an ass to me in that Inn.
“Oh, thank the gods,” I announce as I let my shoulders relax and force out a long, relieved sigh as I gesture at Fhord. “I didn’t think I’d ever get away from him.” I smile, becoming the rescued seductress they’ll want to see, and turn sultry eyes toward the toothless male who seems to be in charge.
Fhord’s eyes are blazing now. It’s a wonder he doesn’t combust as he lies there.
“Did you come to save me?” I saunter over, dropping onto the log next to the male who lost his teeth to Fhord’s jealousy, nearly close enough to touch. When I look up into his face, my gaze reflects relief, gratitude. And then I steel myself and let a desire for Fhord I’ve been denying for too long fill my eyes.
“I couldn’t let this asshole hold you any longer,” he affirms as he turns toward me and places a hand on my leg, then gives it a little squeeze.
It takes everything I have to hold my expression in place, not flinch in disgust at this male. I can feel the edges of his emotions. The damaged pride that carried him here. The anger at Fhord, so strong it sends shivers through his muscles. And now the rising desire for me. He’s already starting to think of what he’ll demand in payment for my rescue. This is an ugly, cruel male and I don’t want to be anywhere near him.
But I don’t let the growing repulsion show in my face. Instead, I grin, lifting my hand to place it on his chest. I can feel his heart thundering beneath my fingers. He’ll be hard soon. And then he’ll be mine. “My hero,” I say in a breathless whisper. “Thank you.”
His hand moves farther up my thigh. He’s not wasting any time in telling me what he wants. But I need him to slow down. He has to get comfortable enough with me to let down his guard. That won’t happen right away.
“Let me make you breakfast. To show you how grateful I am.”
“I have something else in mind.” His voice is low, guttural. He looks toward the tent and then back at me, reaching for my hand.
“I’m hungry,” another male interjects. “Let the bitch feed us.”
“Later,” the leader responds. “I’ve got something to do first.”
“No, Olan,” a different one says, his voice almost pleading. Olan looks up, his eyes flashing. “We’re all hungry. We’ll give you all the time you want, but we came all the way out here for you. Let us eat.”
“Maybe she could do it naked,” the fourth male proposes, a note of lust in his words. I turn to stare, struggling to keep the terror from showing on my face. My thoughts drag me back to the Nest, the times they left me bound to a rack alone, legs and arms spread for all to see. “You can have her first, but I’d like to see what we’re waiting for.”
Now Fhord’s pissed. He’s struggling against his ropes, his grunts angry. I can feel the violence rippling off him, the blood rushing through his veins in wave after wave of hate. He’d rip these men to shreds if he could.
Olan turns back toward me, a grin erupting as he reaches out to lift my chin. “This one’s mine,” he says as his thumb swipes across my lips before pulling down the bottom one and pushing through my teeth, just a bit, while I fight the urge to bite him. My skin crawls where he touches me, and it’s a struggle to keep my expression from displaying my disgust. “We’ll find other women for you,” Olan adds. “I’m going to save her for myself.”
“That wasn’t what we agreed,” the fourth male spits out. “You said she’d be ours.”
Olan’s head snaps toward his comrade, and in an instant, he’s on his feet, a knife at the other male’s throat. “I changed my mind.” His words are venomous. “I decided to keep her for myself.”
