Page 34 of Soul of Fire

“Just Eisa is fine, really,” I replied, not sure what to say to such a vow. I settled on a ratherlame, “Thank you.”

Arne smiled, the expression lifting at least ten years from his face. “We’re family now, lass. No thanks needed. Ever.”

“Now who’s making maudlin demonstrations?” Arik gave his uncle an exasperated but equally fond look as he retrieved my hand from his uncle’s grasp and replaced Arne’s kiss with his own. “You old softy.”

Arne made a noise of derision and threw up his hands in defeat, storming from the room as he shouted at several soldiers to get out of his way. He was the only jarl present, but it seemed that his temper was well known as the soldiers obeyed with laughter rather than fear.

I like him,I told Arik through the bond.

You certainly made an impression onhim, Kjære.Arik’s eyes glittered faintly silver as he helped me stand.I think I could count on one hand the number of times he’s kissed the hand of a lady, and two of them now are you.

“Are we leaving, then?” Jorgen stood and held out his hand for Branka, looking at Arik expectantly.

He’s a difficult man to read,Arik continued, ignoring his best friend.

Not like you at all,I quipped.

He gave my hip a squeeze, his eyes full of mischief.I’ll make you pay for your sass later.

Promise?

“For fucks’ sake,” Jorgen growled. “What is it you’re really doing during these long silences? Eye-fucking?”

I choked on a laugh. "Is everyone using this term now?"

Arik’s gaze met mine, his beard twitching. “You may as well tell him, since Branka knows.”

“Since Branka knows what?” Jorgen looked at his mate accusingly.

I nodded at Branka, and she blurted, “Arik and Eisa can speak mind to mind!”

Jorgen's eyes widened, then narrowed. A wicked grin transformed his face. “So you weremind-fucking, then?”

“Hearthmother, spare me.” Arik scrubbed a hand over his face and dragged me away as Branka elbowed Jorgen in the ribs.

He laughed. “What? It’s definitely what we’d do!”

“SoI’mguessingthisentire afternoon was a ploy to win the trust of your father’s soldiers?” I asked as I squeezed the water from my hair before the hearth again.

We had all retired after dinner, Branka begging fatigue, although I had a strong feeling she would not be sleeping any time soon based on the look Jorgen had given her as we’d said goodnight.

I doubted I would, either. Arik was sprawled across the bed completely nude, his hair still slightly damp from bathing, as he looked through the correspondence that had been waiting for us in our rooms.

Idunn was thoroughly intrigued, and she sent me several mental suggestions about what we might do with him lying in that same position.

“It was Arne’s idea,” he replied, seemingly oblivious to Idunn’s rampaging lust. “Something about showing them true strength.”

“It seemed to work. Did you speak to him about the Rift? The Althing? What was all that crypticness at the end of dinner?”

“Crypticness.” He snorted in amusement. “He’s going to the skalds tomorrow to ask about the Book. They’re all about a hundred years old, and I don’t want to frighten them into an early grave. Arne’s less terrifying than I am.”

“Yes, you’re very scary.”

I quickly braided my hair over my shoulder, the wet plait leaving a damp spot in the linen nightgown. It was far less beruffled than the one from the previous night, and Arik frowned as he looked up from his letters. “I think I liked the other nightgown better.”

“You destroyed the other one, if you recall.” I sat on the edge of the bed, just too far out of the reach of his embrace. “What’s in the letters?”

Arik’s beard twitched in amusement, his eyes glowing faintly. “Just reports and purchases that are more than a month old. It’sno wonder Einar was such an ass when this is all he had to look forward to.”