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Bloody hell, he had never been indecisive since that day he had left the man he had been sold to. He had been planning his escape, storing enough food to take with him. The man found the food and was furious. He began to beat Varrick more viciously than he ever had. Something had snapped in him that day and when he stumbled from a blow and fell nearly on top of a pitchfork, the tip tearing at his arm, he picked it up without thought, stood, turned, and drove it into the miserable excuse of a man as he came at him. The man’s eyes had looked as though they would explode with pain and anger as he reached for the handle, Varrick having not driven it far enough into him and that was when he had found the strength and courage he had not known he had. He gave it a shove driving it deeper into the man and as he stumbled, Varrick shoved the pitchfork harder and harder into him. After that day, he never hesitated in any decision he ever made and never regretted any of them. That was the day he had lost his soul.
So why hesitate now? Had he found his soul? Or had Fia found it for him?
He had no answer and seeing his wife had settled quietly in the bed, he closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep as he did most nights.
* * *
Fia woke,her eyes springing open, and she glanced about half expecting to see her husband standing over her having shaken her awake, but he wasn’t there. He was asleep on the bench, though how he could sleep sitting puzzled her. So did the feeling of being shaken awake, but then everything puzzled her of late.
She turned her eyes away from her husband, not wanting to linger in thoughts on him, knowing it would only upset her. Seeing the fire had not dwindled much, she realized she had not slept long, so what had woken her?
Answers lie in what you see and know.
The voice left her asking herself… what did she know?
Something was amiss in this part of the woods. She gasped quietly as she called to mind what the dead men had offered in return for their lives.
We will tell you who stalks the woods.
A sudden chill forced her out of bed and toward the heat of the hearth. She stood, letting the warmth sink into her while she let her thoughts explore.
What if someone did stalk this area of the woods? What if the person was evil enough that the animals, birds, and trees fled from him? What if this had nothing to do with the God of Death, but someone who held ill will against Varrick and wanted him to suffer, wanted to see him lose the trust of his clan, wanted to rob him of his dignity and honor?
But why? Why would someone want to do that to him?
Revenge? Hate? Jealousy? Greed?
She gasped and drew her shoulders up as arms wrapped around her, frightened by the unexpected touch. Then realizing it could be only one person, she whispered, “Varrick.”
“Aye,” he said, his warm breath brushing across her ear and sending gooseflesh running down her back.
Varrick had woken to see his wife standing in front of the hearth and wondered what she was about. After watching her, he realized she was deep in thought. Something had disturbed her enough to wake her. And oddly enough, her unease had woken him. He had thought to let her be, but seeing her standing there alone, her thoughts troubled, he wanted nothing more than to comfort her.
“Forgive me if I woke you,” she said softly, feeling his warmth seeping into her.
“Aye, you woke me, but there is no need for forgiveness. I do not like to see you alone with troubled thoughts.”
She turned in his arms, eager to tell him of her thoughts and felt his arousal brush against her. Words failed her as she stared into his heated blue eyes.
“I want you, wife. I want your love and all that goes with it. I want to feel you naked against me, join with you, feel your love, again and again and again.” Varrick thought he might be insane, but he did not care. He let himself sink into the insanity of love for he could explain it no other way.
“And I want you, husband, again and again and again,” Fia said, feeling her desire soar.
Varrick’s kiss quashed the words of love that rushed to his lips. He would not admit something as important as love in the thrill of the moment until he knew for sure, without a single doubt, that this was love and that he loved his wife freely and without any constraints. Only then would he tell her what his heart demanded he acknowledge… he loved her beyond measure.
He kissed her with a passion of a man who had been separated far too long from the woman he loved and was eager to show her how much he missed and loved her.
Instinct had Fia reaching out to free him of his garments, and he did the same to her. His hands were steady and sure, while hers were unsure but determined.
When all their garments lay pooled on the ground, they stood staring at each other for a moment. Varrick waited to see if she had changed her mind and when she smiled softly at him, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.
It was a narrow bed and afforded no room for two people, but Fia eagerly turned on her side when he placed her down on it, making room for him.
Varrick laid beside her, eager to roam her luscious body and rested his hand on her hip as he kissed her, then said, “You are beautiful, and I am glad you are mine.”
Her heart melted at his loving words, and she rested her hand on his chest. “I want to touch you, come to know every part of you, love all of who you are.”
Her tender words tickled his heart and soared his passion. “You are welcome to touch me as often as you wish.” He did not stop the smile that surfaced on his face. “And I intend to touch you as often as I wish.”
