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A strange look settled on the Magnar’s face. He stared at her bowed head for a moment before facing me. In the traditional gesture of acceptance, he placed his hand on her head.
Magnar Ravik said, “Thank you, little Grace. You may rise.”
Grace stood, head bowed, her hands clasped in front of her. The Magnar held her by the shoulders, giving her an appreciative once over. “I heard of your consort’s beauty, Anton. It by far exceeds even the most outrageous tale.” He gently lifted her chin with a finger, and she submitted to his examination. “Submissive and respectful, too. She brings great honor to your house.”
His words should have filled me with pride and joy. Deep down, the part of me that longed for the acceptance of my people reveled in receiving such high praise from the Magnar himself. However, it drowned in the sickening feeling in my stomach as he placed a possessive hand on the back of her neck.
I swallowed hard and gestured for him – them – to follow me into the living area. The tension in Grace’s shoulders belied the impassive expression on her face. I spent nearly two decades building my empire so I wouldn’t be at another’s mercy again. Yet, here I stood, feeling more helpless than ever before.
Ravik sat on the loveseat, his massive frame filling two-thirds of it. He pulled Grace onto his lap. He made her sit sideways, pulling her bare feet onto the cushion. Sitting across from them in the plush chair, I forced my eyes not to stare at his big hand resting on her knee – under her flimsy dress – or the slow movement of his thumb on her naked flesh.
“Food? Drinks?” I offered, my voice barely hiding my tension.
A discreet smirk stretched the corner of the Magnar’s lips, indicating he wasn’t fooled by my attempt at detachment. “No, thank you. I won’t be staying long.”
Thank fuck for that.
“The Caldes banishment stirred quite a commotion. It is all the talk on Braxia.”
“As such things are wont to be,” I said.
Is he here to challenge the banishment on their behalf?
“I understand he insulted you and physically attacked you after accepting your hospitality?”
Through my peripheral vision, I saw Ravik’s hand moved up and down Grace’s thigh.
I forced my eyes to remain on his face. “Correct. Elder Pattel and two others witnessed his attack. Gerwin brought it upon himself.”
“No need to be defensive, young Anton. The idiot had it coming. Leader Caldes should be thanking you for ridding him of that poor excuse of a firstborn. Gerwin couldn’t have managed the clan after his sire. Good riddance.”
I inhaled sharply. Such blunt honesty with a mutt threw me.
“Forgive me, Magnar. It is a sensitive topic for me.”
“I can see why it would be,” he said, his tone conciliatory. “You have done incredibly well for yourself, Anton Myers. Impressive, especially for a half-breed.”
Grace stiffened at his comment. That drew his attention. He narrowed his eyes at her.
“Does it bother you that I call your consort a half-breed?” Ravik asked Grace.
I felt my blood draining, fearing he might take offense to her response. Grace chewed on her bottom lip, clearly hesitating. To my surprise, the Magnar gently caressed her cheek.
“Do not be afraid, little one. Speak freely. On my honor, no harm will ever come to you from me.”
Grace licked her lips, then said, “Yes, it does. I don’t understand why people make such a big deal of his genetics. It shouldn’t matter. Only his accomplishments should.”
Ravik smiled. “You like him, don’t you?”
I held my breath as she nodded shyly at him.
“Yes, Magnar. I like him a lot.”
He took her hand and raised it to his face. Leaning his cheek into her palm, he closed his eyes.
“Say my name,” he whispered.
“Mag—”
