Authors: Sophia Johnson
Tags: #paranormal romance, #revenge, #alpha hero, #warrior women, #blood oath, #love through the ages
His hand flashed up and snared a creamy
ankle. When she kicked out at him, he laughed, deep and
throaty.
Elyne held tight to the tree while he tugged
at her leg. The branches swayed and creaked, and knowing the limb
was about to break, she shrieked.
Loud.
"Halt! Who goes below?"
Bleh! No way to hide, now. She was done
for.
The hand grasping her ankle jerked as if in
surprise.
The guard atop the wall-walk made enough
noise to alert the dead as he shouted an alarm. From the sounds of
men's voices and boots running, likely half the guards on the wall
were scrambling to the stairway leading below.
Whoever would have thought so many things
could go wrong all at once?
Something had to occur first. She'd heard the
loud crack of the branch when it tore from the tree and she hurtled
down. At the same time, she'd cracked her head against his and
knocked the man to the ground.
The very nekid man.
She was atop him. Her smock had twisted
around her waist. She knew it was so because cold air felt like ice
on her nether cheeks. She tried to rise. 'Twas awkward. Who knew a
man's body could be so wide? She rocked and tried to get her right
knee off his, um, precious parts. He grunted with pain. He tried to
help. His hands were on her bare arse seeking to lift her.
Her father's shouts rent the air. Afore she
could count five breaths, it sounded as if everyone in the keep had
swarmed into the bailey.
She frowned. Why was the first thing she saw—
after the painful stars cleared from her eyes—the sight of her
father's very large, bare feet?
She gulped.
The earth shifted.
"Ack! Merciful saints!"
She threw out her hands to steady herself.
They landed on thick, wet hair. She looked down to find her fingers
gripped the hair at the man's temples and pinned his head to the
ground. Her gaze locked on deep brown eyes squinted nearly closed
in fury and lips pulled back in a silent snarl.
She was near pulling the hair from his head.
She balanced on one hand and lifted the other. It didn't help. In
fact, it made it worse for her hand slipped, yanking his hair even
more.
"Shite!"
She scowled back at him and spread her legs
to steady herself. It caused her to reconsider her position. She
was sprawled atop him. Every move she made pressed her feminine
parts more intimately against his sex. Two very hard ballocks
warmed her thighs, and above them his rampant tarse, stiff as an ax
handle, pressed against her stomach.
"Lass! Be still!"
"Tsk. No need to yell, sir. I was trying to
help."
She sought to lift herself from his wet body
but should have saved herself the effort.
She yelped, for a hard arm snaked around her
waist and lifted her like a floppy bag of grain.
"Hist! Elyne." Her father's commander Domnall
whispered the caution as he settled her on her feet.
The Chief growled with anger, his scowl
ferocious, when his gaze raked her from head to toe. She glanced
down and bit her lips. For truth, she looked near nekid. Her smock
had acted as a fine drying cloth. Unfortunately, it became near
invisible when wet. As it now was.
"Cover her," Chief Broccin thundered.
Spying the kilt laying on the boulder, the
commander whipped it out and around her, giving her back a pat. Her
aunt stepped around her father and came to put her arm across
Elyne's shoulders. She thanked all the Saints above that her aunt
happened to be paying them a long visit.
Elyne hugged the wool close under her chin
and tried to still her trembling. She'd been in trouble before.
Once, someone had even kidnapped her. But now when she saw her
father's broadsword pricking the hollow in the man's neck causing
blood to trickle down his flesh, her knees near buckled under
her.
"Broccin, mayhap you should ask what has
happened afore you skewer the man?" Her aunt's hand patted Elyne's
shoulder as she spoke.
"Ask? I have eyes to see, sister. Is he not
nekid? Was she not atop him, her smock hiked around her hips?" He
stopped, drew in a breath then bellowed, "
Swiving
?"
When all eyes turned toward her, Elyne felt
her face flush. Even so, she lifted her chin high.
"I was
not
swiving."
"Dinna dare call yer father a liar!"
The chief's shout caused his hand to move,
digging the broadsword's tip even deeper into Graemme's vulnerable
neck.
What hurt even more was the words "yer
father" careening off the walls of his skull.
No scullery maid.
No goose girl.
Not even the baker's daughter!
He had exposed himself. Had.... The thought
of what he
had
been doing to entice what he knew now was
the chief's daughter, made him groan and squeeze his eyelids shut.
He swallowed. Uh! Wrong move. If he wasn't more careful, he would
lose that bobbing lump that marked his throat as male.
Hearing shouts and grappling between men, he
opened his eyes and knew it was his friends, Brian and Colyne,
restrained by Raptor knights.
"Guard them in the stables until I deal with
this," Broccin ordered. "Take Elyne out of my sight. She isna to
leave her room, do ye ken? If I see her afore I command it, I'll
take a whip to her!"
Graemme didn't dare move. So. Her name is
Elyne. Judging from her father's voice, she had best listen to him.
The wind turned brisk, ruffling his body hair as it swept over him.
A good thing he wasn't modest, else he'd have turned scarlet by
now. He glared at two women near stumbling over their bare toes so
intent were they on staring between his sprawled legs. Though his
cock was a lifeless fellow right now, he was still a long one. He
didn't attempt to close his legs. The movement would pinch his
witless cock and his balls if he couldna lift them out of the
way.
Broccin must have seen where the women
stared, judging from his snarls.
"Get back to yer beds else ye'll be set to
scrubbing floors afore day's light. Ye men! Return to yer duties."
He turned to the last man. "Domnall, get this rutting eejit up and
bring him to my solar." He whirled and stamped away, the sound of
furious bare feet slapping the cobblestones followed him.
Graemme took a deep breath and dared to
swallow once the sword left his neck. The man named Domnall was the
one who had lifted the squirming bundle of flesh off him. At least
the fear of having his head loped off had kept his cock from
springing to life at her movements. Had it done so, likely the
sword would have been at that part of his body instead. Domnall
leaned down and offered a helping hand. Graemme shook his head and
hoped his legs didn't wobble when he sprang to his feet.
Two men stood nearby with their swords drawn.
Did they think him foolish enough to run? Huh. They were
grinning.
"'Twas a foolish choice for bed sport, lad,"
Domnall said, the corners of his lips quivering.
"Do ye think me daft? Had I known 'twas the
chief's daughter, I would have jumped
in
the well, not
stood
by
it."
"Too bad you already bathed. You're in deep
shite now." The man chuckled and shook his head.
He sent one of the grinning guards to fetch
something to cover Graemme then tossed Graemme's boots and helmet
to him. Walking over to the well, Domnall retrieved the sheathed
sword waiting there, slowly pulled it out and hefted the steel,
testing it for his own strength. When he slid it back in, he tilted
his head to the side, listening to the metal sing. He studied the
scabbard and ran his fingers over the snarling, black wolves burnt
into the leather. He raised a brow at Graemme.
"Shame. You made an excellent choice of a
sheath for your killing sword but not where you thrust your lusty
cock. I'll carry this for now."
Graemme quickly shoved on his boots. After
stomping them into place, he heaved a deep sigh of resignation. The
solder returned on the run and handed a drying cloth over with a
snicker. "I couldna find a kilt; all the men were sleeping in them.
'Twas the biggest cloth that wasna wet."
Graemme looked at it in disbelief then
shrugged. "Was it meant for a child?"
He stretched it around himself and it met at
his left side, though barely. Once he'd donned his sword belt, the
several layers of leather held the cloth in place. Satisfied, he
buckled it low on his waist. Carrying his helmet in the crook of
his arm, he looked down and saw how little the cloth covered his
bulging sex. Feigning unconcern in his disarray, he moved his helm
before him in hopes of covering more of his private parts.
"Where to?"
He rolled his head to relieve his stiff neck.
His forehead ached and pulled, likely swelling the size of a fat
goose egg from the way it felt. He didn't bother wiping away the
blood that had welled in the little valley at the base of his neck.
'Twas probable he'd be spilling a lot more afore this night
passed.
o0o
Elyne stood beside her bedside table,
undecided whether to sit on the ample ledge at the window opening
or climb on the bed. She eyed Aunt Joneta, and Ada, the servant who
was more friend than maid.
"I fell out of the tree," she said for the
third time since they had walked back with her to her bed chamber.
She scowled when her aunt grinned.
"Did you fall or did you jump, love. It has
been many a year since I have seen such a splendidly naked man,"
Lady Joneta said.
"He pulled my leg and I fell!"
"Maybe we're going about this in a backward
way? Instead of starting from what we saw, tell me why you were not
here in your bed?"
Elyne groaned and tried to kick the wet
clothing crumpled on the floor, but Ada snatched it away in time.
Though she now wore a dry smock and gown, she had pulled the man's
green, black and blue kilt across the small of her back and draped
it over her arms.
Lady Joneta studied Elyne, making her want to
squirm.
"Come, love, we had best prepare a good
excuse for your father."
Ada tilted her head, her eyes alight with
curiosity. She nodded, guessing the reason.
"Ye had a walking dream, again, eh?"
Elyne sighed and climbed up on the bed to
sit, legs crossed in front of her. Mayhap they would believe her.
They had not made fun of Elyne's dreams near as much as others
had.
"Aye. I woke in the bailey, sitting beneath
the apple tree. The dream had startled me awake. I did not go there
to meet that man."
Now and then, she lifted the kilt to her face
and inhaled. An enticing scent. Pine and sandalwood blended
together.
"Ah." Joneta's eyes smiled at her. "At least
you were not kneeling in the muck of the pigs' sty."
"Or sitting on cow pies in the middle of the
pasture like last summer." Ada's grin spread from ear to ear.
"True, but snuggling atop a naked man brings
a lot more trouble than needing a hot bath," Joneta said as she
shook her head.
"I dreamt about the black wolf again. Only
this time, he turned into a man." She stopped and shrugged. "Almost
a man. All but his head."
"How did you go from sitting under the tree
to being atop him?"
Ada looked eager to learn it all.
Elyne shrugged her shoulders and spread her
hands wide.
"I heard his boots striking the stones and
did not want anyone to see me. So, I climbed the tree."
"He didn't have boots on when we got there."
Joneta looked at her, and seeing her blush, nodded. "You watched
him bathe? Your brother Ranald has told you many times that your
curiosity was going to get you in trouble."
Elyne sighed. She rubbed the kilt across her
nose again, pretending she scratched an itch, and took a deep
breath. Likely, he slept beneath the stars and traveled through
forests for many days to have such a fresh, exciting scent.
"You think I meant to spy on him? I couldna
very well tell him I was in the tree near nekid, now, could I?"
She blurted out the rest of what happened
after the man undressed. But not all of it. Why, he had taken
delight in handling his secret parts until he spent himself on the
ground! She couldn't tell anyone about
that
. She cleared
her throat.
"I truly did not expect him to strip and
bathe. No man but Ranald would wash at the well when the water is
near ice," she added, knowing her face flushed. "He, um, looked up
at the night sky when he scrubbed, his, uh, stomach. That's when he
spotted me. He believed I was a servant girl seeking a bed partner
and grabbed my foot."
"Ah. The limb broke." Joneta looked down at
her hands, then back up to study Elyne's face. "Did he take
advantage of your inexperience and mayhap, um,..."
"Nay!"
Joneta's eyes sparkled. "Well, now, if I were
many years younger, I would gladly change places with you."
Ada giggled. "Mayhap we could lure him to the
well again?"
"Not if he looked at you as if he wanted to
slit your throat, you wouldn't." Elyne huffed in annoyance.
"Hm. There is that." Lady Joneta sighed and
nodded.
"Father won't kill him, will he?"
"Nooo. If that was my brother's intention, he
would have done it right away."
Elyne had to agree. Unfortunately. Not that
she wanted the man dead. But she didn't like the other solution,
either.
If her aunt had not been visiting Raptor
Castle, Elyne would be below listening at the door to her father's
solar. With Ada beside her. When she was alone again, perchance she
should gather supplies together in case she had to flee in the
middle of the night.
Her stomach gurgled at the thought.
This time, it seemed unlikely she'd find an
easy way out of her problem.