closed and hiding my nakedness from the rest of the world as we walk toward the singing and shouting of the camp.
I expect the raucous celebrations to die down when we arrive, but they don’t. If anything, everything gets so much louder. It’s almost suffocating. Glancing around, I can’t hold in my surprise at what is happening.
There are a few men engaging in fistfights. Several people are having sex, some are engaging in threesomes and more. There is drinking, singing, laughter, and overall, I find that this must be what true debauchery looks like—I’ve never seen anything like it.
The man who came over to us earlier, Fiske, is sitting on a stump, drinking from a cup of some kind. He jerks his chin toward us, but he is not smiling. A few men stumble in front of us and we’re forced to stop. My attention leaves Fiske as I focus on the handsome men in my view.
They are talking excitedly, their hands waving around wildly. I can’t understand them, but I know that Aaric does. He laughs, his deep chuckle rumbles through him. I hate that it’s so damn sexy. He pulls me against him, his arm tightening even more around my shoulders.
I feel his chin rest against the top of my head as he listens, offers a word or two, then we’re off and walking away from them, the conversation clearly over. We’re stopped again. And again. And then again.
The last time, thankfully someone shoves a wooden cup in my hand and one in Aaric’s as well. Lifting the cup, I take a sniff. Wrinkling my nose, I try not to gag. It smells like straight-up gasoline.
Aaric chuckles. Turning my head, I tilt it back and look up to him. He tips his head back, drinking a healthy chug of the liquid. He looks over at me when he’s finished, his blue eyes dancing in the firelight.
He dips his chin in a silent urge for me to do the same, to drink this strong as fuck drink. Wrinkling my nose again, I hesitantly lift the cup to my lips and take a drink.
Forcing myself to swallow, I cough and wheeze as it burns my esophagus. Once I get past the burning sensation, I decide that it’s better than nothing, and take another drink.
Aaric laughs, it’s a boom and cheerful, so beautiful that I stare at him slack-jawed. Together we make our way toward a tent. Without a word, Aaric tugs a flap back, dipping his chin for me to enter.
I do, mainly because I don’t want to be naked, wrapped in only a fur, around the entire camp any longer than I have to be.
Climbing into the tent, I’m surprised to see that it’s bigger than I anticipated. There is also what looks like a bed in the back. It’s not like a cot, but more like a huge pile of furs, exactly like the one I’m wearing.
“Fara í rekkju,” he rumbles.
Looking back at him, I frown. “I don’t know what you’re saying,” I whisper. His lips twitch and he jerks his head toward the back again. “Bed?”
Aaric’s smile widens and he jerks his chin again toward the back, toward the bed. Okay, I guess we’re going to bed now. Turning away from him, I walk toward the back of the tent, it’s only a half a dozen steps, but it feels almost foreboding.
Reaching down, I grab ahold of several furs, not sure which ones I’m supposed to be sliding between, if there’s some kind of order or anything. I stand, holding the furs around my body, and on the bed, waiting to see if Aaric will guide me.
“Hvíla,” he rasps behind me.
Turning back to look at him, I frown, unsure of what he’s instructed me to do. I have no doubt that he’s instructed me to do something. He laughs softly, taking the furs from my grasp, pulling them back and dipping his chin toward the bed.
I lift my leg, sinking my knee in and it causes him to laugh a little harder. Without warning, without a single word, he reaches for the fur wrapped around my body and yanks it off of me. I yelp, as I’m stripped from the fur and am completely naked, again.
Spinning around, I tilt my head back to look up into his eyes. They sparkle as they take me in, dragging down my body, then back up to my face. I have the urge to cover myself from his gaze, but I