don’t, a different kind of urge fills me, again.
He takes a step toward me, reaching one of his hands out, he cups my breast. Closing my eyes, I sigh as I feel his thumb slide across my hard nipple. His skin is so rough, so calloused, and I can’t help but love how it feels against me. I want more.
“Aaric,” I breathe.
I feel his lips slide alongside my own. Opening my eyes, I watch his dancing blue ones. “Hvíla,” he rasps.
“Hvíla,” I sigh.
He grunts, then releases me and takes a step back. I watch as he turns around and marches out of the tent, leaving me aching, alone, and worst of all, completely naked.
AARIC
It doesn’t sit right with me to leave her alone in my tent. I know that none of my people would dare to breach my space, though, so she is safe if nothing else. I am feeling conflicted though, truly conflicted.
“Who is she?” Gunnar asks.
He is my second in command, something that Fiske despises, since he thinks, as my brother, that he should be my closest soldier. Fiske is a good man, but he is not strategic and I need strategy and calmness at my side.
“I do not know,” I confess. “I found her in the woods, but she is not of this land.”
“I have never seen hair like that before,” he murmurs. “Or clothing.”
I think of her soft thin fabric. It was like nothing I have ever seen or touched before. It was delicate, not made to last, which makes me think that she could be royalty. No common woman would ever own something so fragile.
“Me either,” I grunt, adjusting my hardening böllur as I think about her, all of her.
“You’ve already had fundr with her, haven’t you?” he asks, his lips turning up into a smile.
I shrug a shoulder, glancing back at my tent. “She will be my dróttning when we return,” I confess.
“Aaric,” Gunnar warns.
Shaking my head once, I shift my gaze back to meet his. “Don’t. I am not a man who makes rash decisions. There is something that I cannot place with her, but one thing is very clear. She is minn.”
“If you think it is wise,” he mutters. “She is not from any of the islands. The people will not accept her as their true dróttning. You know this, do you not?”
Clearing my throat, I lift my arm, wrapping my fingers around the back of my neck and squeezing the sore muscles there in a lame attempt to relieve the pressure.
“Já, Gunnar. The seeress told me that I would be rewarded on this raid. If I opened my mind, heart, and soul, I would find a reward.”
“You think that this strange woman is that?”
Pressing my lips together, I bite my tongue. What I want to do is scream at my man for doubting my decision. But I do not blame him. Gunnar is not asking questions to question my decisions. He is trying to understand my decision, there is a big difference.
“I believe it to be so. I cannot be sure, as nobody can be sure what the gods have in store for us. But I believe that Thyvstus has protected me this far in my life.”
Gunnar leans back, taking a drink from his cup. “Perhaps Unir plays?”
I snort. Unir, the goddess of sensuality, she does play. I do not think that she is playing this time. This does not feel like a test, it does not feel like a trial. This is something much different, I can feel it down in my bones, in my böllur.
“Nei,” I rasp. “Nei.”
We both drink from our cups, having fresh ones delivered just moments ago. Neither of us looks at each other, both content to watch the men celebrate around us.
Usually, we would partake in all forms of celebration, especially after the astounding victory that we just had. Everything about tonight is different, I can practically taste it in the dewy air around us.
“If you believe she is your dróttning, then I support this. It is not as if you have had a parade of women you’ve announced as an intended. This must be different if you are so sure so quickly.”
Licking my bottom lip, I look down at the muddy ground, then lift my gaze to the fire in the center of camp, watching the flames dance in front of me. They are mesmerizing, almost as much as the sea waves that crash against the shore.
“I am sure that she is significant. The