“Well guess what?” With a ruthless burst of speed, he flipped her onto her back, pinning her to the ground with his hips. “I like telling you what to do.”
A rough breath gusted out of her as she tried to comprehend what had just happened. With his elbows braced on either side of her head, his face was inches from hers. How easy it would be to reach out and slide her fingers into the coarse bristles of his beard. To pull his lips to hers and channel her frustration in an entirely different way.
But Silla had vowed Rey would not be another distraction from her troubles. And he was right—her emotions had gotten the best of her tonight.
“Are you done?” Rey asked, his voice cold and merciless.
Silla drew in a deep breath. “I’m done,” she whispered.
Rey’s throat bobbed, and for a moment, she thought he had something more to say. But he rolled off her, raking both hands through his hair. Pushing to his feet, he loomed above her. “I’ll heat the evening meal.”
And with that, he stalked into the shield-home, leaving Silla laying in the grass, trying to calm her racing heart.
Chapter Thirty-One
SUNNAVÍK
Saga’s fingers tapped against the stone wall as she waited for Rurik to teach her how to pick a lock. Waiting in the hidden passageway, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she heard the heavy footfalls of patrol guards strolling past the tunnel’s entryway. But soon, they'd retreated, leaving Saga listening to the creak of timber beams and the scuttling of small, unseen creatures.
After the day she’d had, Saga was eager to meet Rurik.Not only had she been forced to listen to a skaldic rendition of the Urkans storming Askaborg, but Signe had taken the opportunity to present her with a bridal veil.
“I wore this,” the queen had said, “when I wed Ivar, uniting the Urkan and Norvaland lines. And so it seems fitting that you shall wear it when you wed Bjorn, weaving Íseldur and Urka together for good.”
With the eyes of Sunnavík’s nobility upon her, Saga had accepted the veil with all the grace she could muster. The wedding loomed like an impending storm, blowing ever nearer.But Saga forced her mind to the task at hand. If she wanted to get into Alfson’s locked cabinet, she’d need to learn how to pick a lock.
And of course Rurik was late, leading Saga to question her good sense for the thousandth time. The mystery of what the man sought in Askaborg’s tunnels nagged at her. Was it a weapon? Jewels? A book, perhaps?
For the dozenth time she questioned involving the man in her schemes. But they’d struck a bargain and there was no going back. At the very thought of howthey’d sealed this deal, heat unfurled in the pit of Saga’s stomach. Last night the man had invaded her dreams, and today, her thoughts, and Saga decided it was a very good thing he would soon depart Íseldur.
The door shoved open, slamming into the wall with a loud bang. Saga cried out, hand flying to her chest.
“Dreaming on your feet?” asked Rurik, filling the doorway with his large silhouette.
She scowled. “Dreaming of pushing you off a tower.”
“Ah, but then you would be needing to walk outside, would you not, Saga?”
Her teeth ground together as she searched for a reply, but before she could, a second figure appeared.Yuri Rovgolod stepped into the passageway, a look of pure displeasure etched into his face.
“Rov,” she said, hand flying to her chest. “What are you doing here?” Saga’s stomach twisted at the realization—yet another person now knew of the passageway, and, she suspected, the purpose of this meeting. This was…not ideal. She sent Rurik a panicked look.
At least the man had the good sense to look irritated. “He discovered my late return last night.” He sighed, running a hand through his wavy hair. “This man is too good at pulling truths from me.”
“I pulled nothing from you,nochnoy vor1. The truth was written all over your face.”
Saga felt her own face flush. Not good. This was not good at all.
Rov turned his dazzling smile on Saga. “Is pleasure to see you, my lady.” His smile dimmed slightly as he glanced at Rurik. “I am…how do you say it…chaperone.”
“He is not trusting me,” grumbled Rurik.
“Is reason for that. I know you well, Rurik. And so I am here as…nursemaid. To force impetuous man to behave and not start a war.”
Rurik muttered something in Zagadkian, causing Rov to release an exasperated sigh. “He has sworn an oath to me,” said Rurik, turning to Saga. “I promise you, Lady Saga. He will not speak of this to anyone.”
The knot in Saga’s gut eased just a touch. “Ravine Tower,” she said, eager to move on. “It’s locked. In the western wing. This way.”
Rurik sidled up beside her and placed her gloved hand on his forearm, as though strolling like this down an abandoned corridor was completely natural.
