“Careful, Balki,” Jonas’s dark voice followed. “You’re crossing a dangerous line.”
“It’s not a love match.” Balki laughed. “Don’t let your pride keep our sweet from taking the best of what Klockglas has to offer.”
In my mind, I tried to shove away from the bulky chest, but I wasn’t certain if my limbs were working quite right.
Not that it mattered. In another heartbeat, I was yanked out of the brute’s arms, and handed over to Frigg. She held me close, like a friend who might sincerely be afraid for me, but I was lost to the commotion near the table.
Balki, large as he was, was screaming on his knees.
Black, inky veins covered his face, splitting off from his eyes, his nose, down his neck. Jonas circled the man, spinning a knife in one hand, but when he turned his face toward me his beautiful eyes were endless pools of black.
Jonas stepped behind Balki and hooked his arm around the brute’s throat, pressing the point of the knife under the man’s chin. “Tell me again, Balki. What right do you think you have to put your filthy hands on my wife?”
“N-None. Stop, please.”
Jonas teased the tip of the dagger against Balki’s cheek, slowly dragging it across his face. “Are you seeing what I’ll do if you touch her again? Creative, don’t you think? I hear you can live for quite some time with innards spilled in such a way.”
“Jo.” Sander warned.
Jonas blinked, clearing the darkness from his gaze. With his knee he nudged Balki onto the tavern floorboards and stepped over him, making certain his boot kicked his ribs as he did.
The veins were fading in Balki’s face when the prince crouched. “Mistake my wife for yours again and I’ll kill you. Understand?”
All Balki did was nod and murmur a swiftyes.
With a white smile, as though nothing had happened, Jonas strode to me. “Time to go, Fire.”
“No.” I was still wobbly, but I shook my head. “After what . . . you did? Why?—”
A shriek burst over my lips. The room flipped, top over bottom. Myfeet were in the air, my face was tucked against the small of Jonas’s back.
“Put . . . put me down.” I pounded my fists against his hips, I doubted he felt it at all through his damn muscle. “Jonas Eriksson!”
“I do enjoy my full name from your lips,” he retorted, shoving through the crowds. “But I’m afraid your cries will need to wait until later.”
Bastard. I might’ve shouted it, I wasn’t certain. At this angle, blood rushed to my head and I could hardly focus on the floorboards. In the next breath, cool air struck my cheeks. Jonas didn’t return me to the ground.
“Put me down.” I cried out, and soon regretted it. Once more my world tilted and my head moved slower, like a rolling tide. The moment my feet touched the cold cobblestones, I began to fall over.
Jonas caught me around the waist, holding me to his chest.
This close, I saw the sweat on his brow, I saw the fury in his eyes.
“You’re deranged and . . . beautiful.” I stumbled over the words, my body falling into his. “I think I hate you for it.”
“Hate me then.” Jonas brushed hair from my eyes. “But do it safely in our rooms.”
Our rooms.Hisroom. Perhaps he’d just come from his bed, from her arms. I shoved against his chest.
“No.” I swatted his hand away. “No. I thought I was free to do as I pleased. Or am I to be your shackled prisoner while you do whatever you want with anyone you like?”
Jonas moved so swiftly, I gasped when his hand gripped my chin, drawing our lips close.
“You are my wife,” he breathed against my mouth, a slight curl to his lips. “If you’d like me to tie you up, all you must do is ask.”
The ground rolled as waves on the sea.
“You did not keep your word.”
