Bride of the Sea (The Prophecy of Sisters #2) - Hayley Faiman Page 0,39
slices through me at the dismissive nature of his behavior. I reach for him a second time, this time gripping his arm tighter, digging my nails into his flesh slightly.
Only then does he finally turn to face me. He snarls down at me. But I refuse to shrink under his scrutiny. Clearing my throat, I shake my head once.
“I would like to go to sleep now.”
He frowns, his brows snapping together as his gaze flicks from me to the dancing, then back to me. “You have a problem with celebrations?” he asks.
Not wishing to play into his games, I lift my chin slightly and look down my nose at him. “I wish to go to bed, Aaric,” I hiss.
“Go, then.”
“I don’t know where my room is. I haven’t really been here very long,” I snap.
His lips twitch. “Gunnar will take you.”
Nodding my head once, I release my fingers from his arm. Gunnar appears, and I stand to my feet, swaying slightly when I do. He reaches for me, sliding his arm around my waist, and quietly leads me away from my wedding celebrations.
I wish that Gunnar understood anything that I said. He doesn’t, so I don’t bother speaking. There’s no point to it at all. Besides, he loves his king and I am just this woman who somehow fell from the sky, who traveled to another world to fulfill some prophecy or some shit.
It doesn’t take us long to make our way through the party, the crowd, and the huge-ass room. We’re in front of the door that I slept in last night and got ready in.
“No,” I whisper, shaking my head.
Gunnar lifts his chin, reaching for the handle. He pushes the door open. I stay put, not moving. Lifting my hand to my chest. I ask him, “Where is my room. Me? Mine?” I ask.
“Minn?”
“Yes, minn,” I nod.
He shakes his head saying something, that if I’m reading him correctly is along the lines of no, this is you and your king’s place.
“No,” I snap. “Minn.”
His lips curve up into a small smile and it’s obvious that he thinks I’m being cute in my stubbornness. He doesn’t realize that I’m not being cute at all, in fact, I’m completely and totally serious. I do not want to be in the same room as that big fucking asshole.
“Nei, dróttning,” he rasps.
He dips his chin toward the empty room and I stomp my foot, childishly, before I brush past him and make my way into the space. Only when the door is closed, do I turn around to face it.
My lips curve up into a smile when I spy the piece of wood that is leaning next to the door. It looks like it will fit perfectly in the piece of wood that is nailed to the back of the door, and the other next to it on the wall. It’s a lock of sorts, one that would bar anyone from opening the door and coming inside.
“Perfect,” I hum.
Lifting the heavy piece of wood, I push it against the door and let it fall down until it fits perfectly against the wooden pieces. Grinning, I slowly undress and unpin my hair.
There is a small table where I sat to have my hair done earlier. It doesn’t take me long to release my hair from the braids, the twists, and pins.
Wearing nothing but a very thin white gauzy undergarment dress, I search for something more for bed. The wardrobe has one dresser and is otherwise filled with men’s clothes and furs. With a heavy sigh, I decide to go to bed in nothing but the see-through gauzy dress.
Slipping between the mattress and the over sheet, beneath the two furs, I let out a heavy sigh as I close my eyes.
The room spins, but it doesn’t matter. I’m exhausted and soon I’ll be fast asleep in dreamland. Maybe I’ll even wake up at home, in my apartment, and all of this would be nothing but a bad dream.
A girl could only be so lucky.
AARIC
Gunnar grunts behind me. I know that it’s him, because I can feel his disapproving gaze on the back of my head. Lifting my hand, I motion for him to come next to me. He takes a seat in Liv’s vacated chair.
Without turning to him, I ask him what his problem is. “You ignore your bride, then do not even take her to your room, on your wedding eve? Aaric, this is not the man that I know you to be.”