“Hail—” Hugh grabbed his face, forced open his mouth and thrust a finger of flame against his tongue. Ander screamed against the agony.
“The only reason you still have that tongue is that I need you to say the prayers aloud. But when you have fulfilled your duty, I will tear it out and burn it before I burn you to the goddess.” He released Ander and stepped to the center of the chamber. “Silence!” he yelled.
As the priest lost the last vestiges of control and sought any oblivion he could find, Hugh wondered if he yet prayed those words to himself. Then the goddess called to him and the priest was of little concern to Hugh. His own prayers echoed through the chamber, mingling with the screams of the sacrifice and honoring his death.
In the end, the goddess was placated, the priest was an empty vessel waiting to be filled and Hugh moved one step closer to succeeding.
Brienne had said her father could travel from fire to fire, using any form of it to move from place to place. That was how Hugh could watch and know so much. And why Marcus had made them finish using them so quickly to light the chamber beneath the broch. Once the fireblood knew of them, he could travel to them.
Or just go in search of them.
So, Ran had promised to meet Soren on Birsay the next night. They had much to discuss and decide, but if she did not trust him, if she could not play her part, they would fail.
She wanted to believe she could, but the words spoken aloud yesterday stirred up her doubts. Ran loved him, she knew he loved her. Love was not their problem. Lovemaking was certainly not.
Traveling through the sea, she remained in her watery form when she moved onto the beach like a wave. Soren lay there, a hand thrown across his brow, his breathing slow and even. Asleep.
As she watched him, she noticed injuries and burns on his arms. He said he would do what was necessary for Hugh to believe his defection, but she had not thought that part through.
Sea water healed. Sea water soothed.
She flowed up around him and then, changing from cold to a soothing warmth, she covered his body like a blanket and held him. He moaned as the warmth penetrated his skin. She washed over the bruises and the burns and offered him relief from the pain.
“What . . .” he said. Waking, he lifted his head and realized it was her.
“I wanted to ease your pain and your injuries,” she said. “My waters heal skin.”
He lay back and did not resist, allowing her to caress his skin and sooth the tears and the burns.
“What are they from?” she asked, flowing gently over him. “What has he done to you?”
“He is testing me—testing my loyalty, testing my resolve,” he said. He lifted his head and glanced as she spread across him.
“And will you be loyal?” she asked.
“I am only loyal to you, Ran. I know you will not understand this, but I have only ever been loyal to you.”
Ran felt the truth of his declaration to her soul and let it ease some of the bitterness still residing there.
“But what we face, what he plans, I cannot do unless I know that you trust me and will be loyal to me? No matter what he says, no matter how he tempts or threatens us or the others, I need to know if you will be with me?”
She knew she loved him and now she must trust him. She did trust him. She knew it in that moment.
“I am with you,” she said. “I am.”
He did not say anything then, he just lay still as she flowed around and over him. “I love you, Ran Sveinsdottir. Forever and always. You are the only one in my heart.”
“I love you, Soren Thorson,” she whispered. They remained like that for a time.
“You are talking to me. Your voice sounds lovely when you are the water.”
“I am,” she said, realizing that she had not done that before. She’d spoken to the sea, she’d screamed in it, but had not tried to send her voice out of it. “Is it lovely?”
“I think it’s the soft voice that calls to sailors, beckoning them in the depths.”
His voice was soft and sleepy. She laughed until he spoke again. “Beckon me in, Ran Waterblood. Beckon me into your depths.”
His words called to her. She reached out her hand and pulled him to stand. Though still water, she held her form, keeping together almost as human skin. Then she moved around him, removing his garments one by one until he stood naked before her. She covered him in warmth and caressed him, touching his back and his wonderfully muscled back and arse. Then she stroked his cock, using her watery hand to encircle it and massage it.
