I opened my eyes toward the brightening sky and took a long, deep breath before slowly turning in his arms to face him. I drew back at how different he looked that morning. No longer did his hair cover his head in ropes of blond tresses. Instead, the sides ofhis scalp had been shaved off, leaving only a thick braid of hair down the center of his head that was tied off into a long ponytail. I reached up to feel the stubble of his shorn hair with a faint smile.
“You like it?” he said. “I had Mullins do it. My head was getting hot under that mop.”
“I like it. Perhaps your wanted posters will seem less obvious now.”
“Aye, I had thought of that, too.”
He’d gotten a bit scruffier in the past week. His facial hair was almost a beard, but he was no less handsome. His high cheekbones and those stunning, umber eyes made him a sight. I lifted my hand, tilting my head as I caressed the shell of his scarred ear, which was much more obvious now that most of his hair had been trimmed away. I recalled when he was nearly shot in the head by Collin Jones and thanked Lune that the slug only took a bit of his ear instead. And not to mention the still-healing wounds from the beating he endured in Gilly Pine.
He was fragile. I was not. It was one of the most terrifying things in the world and it made caring about him absolute torture.
“He is getting frustrated,” I said. “But I’ve come to recognize when I need you most. I had a moment of peace and chose to watch the sunrise with it.”
“I am glad to find you here, then,” Vidar said, his eyes briefly falling to my lips. “Basking in your moment of peace.”
His hand lifted, his fingers kissing my cheek where that long scar stretched from the corner of my mouth to my ear. The scar he’d given me when we were children.
My hand slid down the side of his neck and over his chest where his silentium was dangling on a braided piece of leather. His shirt was unlaced, leaving it exposed to me, so I caressed it with my fingers, loving the imperfection that laid beneath it, stamped into his chest where the pendant used to be buried under his skin.
“I hear only your heartbeat, now,” I whispered, my eyes flitting up toward his. “Strong and able, the way I like it.” Curling myfingers, I let my nails bite into his sun-kissed flesh until I saw his jaw tense.
A low growl rose up from his throat at that. I watched hunger ignite in his gaze and in a breath, his hand was around the back of my neck, gripping it tightly. He pulled me in, his mouth crushing mine with a groan. I couldn’t help myself. When Vidar demanded my body, I yielded. I leaned into the kiss, opening for him as his tongue swiped across my lips. I was pinned against the railing, his hardened body filling my cool skin with heat. When he drew back, his teeth snagged my lip just enough to send a jolt of awareness through my whole body.
My eyes fluttered open to see him licking me off his lips as if to savor the taste. Then he leaned in, gently kissing my forehead as he caressed my jaw with his thumb.
It wasn’t often that we were gentle toward each other, but I had to admit, the small gesture was… warm. Pleasant. It wasn’t the kind of rough fuck that would chase the voices away, but it was something just as wonderful I found. Something just for me.
I furrowed my brows up at Vidar, lightly gripping the fabric of his shirt in my fingers.
“Don’t tell me now that you have a tender side,” I said. “If I’d known about it sooner, it would have saved us both time.”
“How so?”
“I would have killed you and been done with it.”
“We both know that wouldn’t have ended well, love.”
“No, but it would have ended,” I said, quirking a brow.
Vidar gave me a crooked smile and took a deep breath of the morning sea air. Then he slid over to my side to stare out into the endless water as if in longing.
“It really is a beautiful sunrise,” he said. “I could never get sick of this sight.”
“How can a man born to land love the sea more?”
“How am I to know? I’ve just always been on the water. A steady ground under my feet is unnerving. My ancestors wereseafaring men. They sailed on longboats across the ocean. Conquered lands. Fought great battles. I was meant for this life, whether I wanted it or not.”
“For the sea or for battle?”
“Perhaps both,” he scoffed. “Even my name foretold my future. My father called Vidar after the Norse god of vengeance.”
“Your vengeance was falling for your enemy? Perhaps your father named you wrong.”
His low chuckle vibrated against my arm. “Or perhaps it is you I will one day avenge.”
“Perhaps it is not the sea that you’re addicted to, then. It’s the hunt. The danger.”
He turned his gaze on me. “Is that not why I’m addicted to you?”
