Hradi's struggle to conceal his surprise failed, especially when he recalled the way Muli had treated Kori's wife. "That mangy liar? You side with him?"
Kori shrugged and took a bite from a hunk of roasted boar. "He has his uses." He raised his head and pierced Hradi with a fierce stare. "Dota claimed to be my wife's friend. Her betrayal hurt Geira worse than anything Muli has done."
His brother returned his attention to his meal. Despite the easy opportunity, Hradi did not mock his brother for his loyalty and devotion to his wife. Instead, his gaze returned to the entry. It remained shut. Another nudge and laugh from his brother cut into his anticipation and lightened the tense mood. He shoved Kori back, bracing himself for his brother to continue the jostling.
"Impatient?" Kori gave him a leering grin. "I understand why you are anxious for her. She is lovely." He nodded toward the door.
Katrin had returned. At her side stood the witch, who looked angry. At who? The young woman beside her or someone, something, else? The urge to shove the woman aside and lead Katrin to his bed nearly overcame him. Instead, he forced himself to calmly stand, his hand on the hilt of his sword. His gaze ran over her, pleased she had removed her cloak. He could more easily admire the curves the deep redsmokkrbarely concealed. When his gaze returned to her face, he noted the uneasiness in her wide blue eyes. He walked over to her, taking note of the satchel she carried. She clutched the ties tightly, winding them around her clenched fingers, the long slender sack wrapped within her arms.
"Come, I will see you are made comfortable." He motioned with his head for her to follow.
Wait!" Gunilla stepped between him and Katrin. "At dawn, we will make a sacrifice to the gods to ask for their blessings foryour village and thank them for the successful harvest Jarl Thorfinn has told me about. She will be needed to assist."
"I will see she is brought to you beforeSólbegins her journey across the sky."
The witch's eyes narrowed. "You will not touch her."
Hradi managed to subdue his annoyance. "I have already given my word that she may have my bed tonight. And that I will not be in it. Is that not enough for you?"
The older woman's lips pressed into a tight line but she said nothing more. With a nod of acquiescence, she stepped back, allowing Katrin to join Hradi.
He couldn't take his gaze from her. Her fiery hair was styled in a mix of braids and long loose curls, and he found himself wanting to gather it in his fist and drag her mouth to his. Instead, he gritted his teeth and turned to the back of the hall. He ignored the ribald shouts and bawdy language, but dared a glance at Katrin. Though not as tiny as he'd first thought when he'd carried her limp body from the docks, she still stood at least a full head shorter than him. A head that bowed over the satchel she still clutched closely to her chest. Suddenly the whistles and shouts annoyed him and he swept an angry glare about the room. Raucous laughter followed them to the doorway that led to the private chambers where the jarl and his family slept.
The large room lined with bunks seemed to close in on Hradi. He had her alone now. Could take her if he so chose. But he had given his word, much as it pained him to resist the urge to haul her against him and claim her mouth. Instead, he touched her arm and pointed toward the far end of the room, reminding her where his bed-closet lay.
He shoved back the curtains, revealing the large straw and down-filled mattress covered with furs. "I hope you find this comfortable. I will be back before dawn to take you to your mistress."
She finally lifted her head, meeting his gaze. Her wide blue eyes were filled with a wary curiosity but he also detected a hint of interest. The sight sent a jolt to his cock. Despite his intentions, he found himself reaching for her, grabbing her arm and pulling her close. She opened her mouth to protest, but he swooped in and covered her lips with his, swallowing her gasp.
She tasted of ambrosia, his earlier fanciful imaginings coming true. He slid his tongue into the warm velvet of her mouth, the tiny mewling sound escaping her making him still harder. He should stop, now, before he went further than he planned, but he didn't want to release her, savoring her sweet scent and the soft trembling of her body.
Finally, with a groan, he gathered his wits and pulled away, studying her. Her lips, now swollen from his fierce kiss, were parted and the struggle to resist kissing her once more seemed the fiercest he'd ever faced. She sucked in little gasps of breath, her eyes dewy with a surprised passion. He silently called to the gods to give him the strength to walk away. Releasing his grip on her arm, he stepped back.
"I will see you in the morning,"
The way her eyes flared told him she had noticed the thickness in his voice. Somehow, he found the ability to turn and head back to the hall.
CHAPTER THREE
Katrin stared after Dream Man, pressing trembling fingers against lips that seemed to burn under her touch. His kiss had been more potent than any of the visions so far and that realization sparked an alarm about just how intense and soul-rending lying with him could be.
Why did she suddenly want to find out?
When he vanished from her sight, she turned and faced the bed. His bed. It looked comfortable, more comfort than she'd enjoyed in her life. Still, it was Hradi's bed. The man in her dreams, and now in her visions. Now in her life. Real.
Her disjointed thoughts left her stomach knotted and her head pounding. She tossed her sack onto the furs and climbed up after it. She settled against the pillows and reached for the pouch, opening and removing her wand. While she had no gifts of transfiguration or creation, she'd been taught to use thestavto help make her visions more specific and accurate, not that it always worked. She raised the slender wooden stick with its basket-like tip created to assist in weaving together the threads of the spirits and gods, for success in their blessings. When she was free, she would use this sacred tool to lead her to a clan or village that would accept her as their guiding Völva, maybe even eventually reaching the exalted position ofGydja, a priestess who oversaw all of a clan’s interactions with the gods. But not yet. Lifting her gaze upward, she prayed to the gods for the strength to survive what she suspected might be one of the most difficult days of her life.
After tending her ablutions, she released the brooches holding hersmokkrin place, carefully laying the garment at the end of the bed. Now clad only in her undershift, she shivered and quickly slid under the furs. Before pulling the heavy woolen curtains closed, she took a few moments to study the narrow room of bunks. The realization she was alone filled her with a conflicting mix of emotions. Years had passed since she had slept away fromGunilla. Oddly, she felt no worry. Instead, a peculiar sense of excitement and delight suffused her, dominating any apprehension. Is this what freedom without indenture felt like?
Somehow, she calmed her eagerness. In the morning, she would be reunited with Gunilla and her life would continue as it had these past years. Her time was coming, but she was still indebted for the months ahead. With a huff, she turned and settled into the mattress, determined to set aside the worries.
Despite the heavy curtains lending her privacy, from time to time, she heard others retiring to their beds. Was Hradi among them, having found another bunk to sleep in?
Was he alone, or did he share the bed of another woman, with whom he might also share the passion Katrin knew he possessed? Resisting the urge to peek through the curtains took every ounce of her strength. Why should she mind? She had no claim on him, would never have a claim on any man. The idea that he might be holding another woman in his arms left her with an odd sense of hurt, leading to annoyance with herself for even caring.
Eventually, she forced the idea of Dream Man and another woman from her thoughts and pulled the furs over her head to shut out the sounds of others. Katrin fluffed the feather pillow and rested her head, eyes closing with fatigue. She welcomed sleep, needed it, hoped it would help keep her focus on the days to come. Before long she drifted towards slumber. She snuggled ever deeper into the pillow.
A moment later, a heady aroma teased her exhausted senses, pulling her from the lure of dreams. She shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, only to realize the scent grew stronger, more enticing, with every move she made.
