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Between a kiss that would forever linger in her memory and feeling his fear of possibly never returning to her, her body ached for a deeper connection, a deeper reminder of their love. She didn’t only need it, he did as well. He needed the strength of their love to take into battle with him.
She was about to tug him toward the bed when he ended the kiss suddenly and went to the door.
“You cannot mean to leave me like this,” she said.
“I have no time. I need to protect you and the clan,” he said without turning to look at her.
“You must love me one time before you go,” she said, hurrying out of her garments.
“I have no time to linger, and I will not take you hard and fast only to leave you quickly afterward. I will not chance that being the last memory you share with me.”
“That is not your choice. It is mine,” she snapped.
“Nay, wife, it is mine!” He grabbed the door latch.
“I never thought you a coward.” That got her husband doing exactly what she wanted him to do, turn and see her standing there naked.
Varrick shook his head. “Bloody hell, wife!”
Fia flung herself at him, leaving him no recourse but to take her in his arms, and she urged, “Hurry, I cannot wait.”
“Neither can I,” he said and hoisted her up to brace against the door while she rushed to shove his garments out of the way.
He entered her with a swift thrust that had her crying out with pleasure. She kept her legs locked tight around him and her hands gripped tight on his shoulders as he pounded into her.
There were no gentle kisses, no words of love spoken, and yet she could feel his love with every thrust of his shaft. She knew—felt—they would fall over the edge of pleasure, always together.
They toppled off into pleasure, then soared high, and shattered together as one. Fia dropped her head to his chest to muffle her cries of immense satisfaction, fearing they would echo through the keep, and he buried his in the crook of her neck.
When sanity finally returned, Varrick whispered, “I will always love you, Fia.”
“As I will always love you, Varrick,” she whispered in return. She did not want to say what she said next, but it was better she said it than he did. “You must go now.”
Varrick hated to leave her and if he did not hurry away from her, he feared he would linger, and she had been brave enough to say what they both knew. He had to be brave enough to do as she said.
He eased out of her and gently lowered her to her feet.
Fia hurried and stepped aside so he could leave, though she wanted to grab him and force him to stay with her.
Varrick grabbed the latch.
“I lied when I called you a coward. You are brave beyond belief, husband, and will lead the clan to victory.”
He yanked the door open and hurried out, shutting it quickly behind him and stood there a moment having heard his wife fight back tears and knowing she now shed them. His heart begged him to return to her and hold her, but he would linger and there was no time if he was to do as she said… lead the clan to victory.
He had taken only a few steps when he heard the voice.
They attack soon.
The door flew open, Fia stood in her shift. “You heard?”
“Aye, get dressed and come with me.” He wanted to yank her into his arms and comfort her, seeing her cheeks wet with tears that tore at his heart, but there was no time. With an attack imminent, he had to act quickly.
Fia hurried to dress and dry away her tears, then she rushed with him to the Great Hall.
Argus and Corwin sat at a table talking and they both hurried off the bench when Varrick swept into the room.
“The attack comes sooner than we think,” Varrick said.
