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“Are you hurt?” He leans over and takes my arm, pulling me to my feet, and my hands instinctively reach up against the hard muscles of his chest. He studies me from head to toe, checking for wounds, I guess.
“What you just did was…” I swallow hard.
“That fuck deserved a million times worse for touching you.”
“It was incredible.” I shouldn’t find something so disturbing exhilarating. But this Viking wolf saved me, and watching him destroy the freak made my heart sprint. He did that forme. I ought to hate myself for enjoying such a show, but I don’t. My body buzzes when I stare at him, and there’s exhilaration from the knowledge that a powerful man is protecting me.
I glance over to the hole, where the log sticks out.
Bardhyl’s arm slides across my back, and he draws me close to him. “We need to go now, because more are coming.”
Hastily, we leave behind the chaos, and only as the adrenaline starts to fade from my body do I feel the aches and the fear as I realize with stunning clarity that I was almost raped. I push the thought far away because I can’t permit those emotions in. I got away, and that’s what matters.
When I look over to Bardhyl, my heart pleads with me to return with him back to the Ash Wolves.
Except in my mind, I know the truth that if I join him, I’ll bring them death. Returning is not an option.
