“Come for me, Lynx,” he whispered.
And Hekla fell apart.
Her insides contracted; all thoughts obliterated as warm, pulsing heatrushed through her body. Her eyes fell shut as her senses unraveled with ecstasy. She couldfeelcolors—bright pulsing rings of violet that suffused through her veins, the taste of sweet strawberries bursting on her tongue.
For those mindless moments after she found pleasure, everything was hazy. Hekla was that young woman once more—the one who read romantic tales of knights and princesses and true love. Her head was filled with dreams, her heart open to love. She was soft and vulnerable and so completely open.
But slowly, Hekla’s vision swam back into focus to find eyes filled with delight and discovery.
“You’re rather sensitive, aren’t you, Lynx?” whispered the Fox, fingers moving higher to stroke the smooth skin of her stomach.
“Am I?” Dazed, Hekla remained in his arms, relenting to his gentle touch.
“Aye. And it makes me wonder”—the green in his hazel eyes seemed to brighten—“how many times can I make you moan like that?” His hand moved from her stomach to smooth a wet tendril of hair from her brow.
Hekla tensed, the tenderness pulling her firmly back in the moment. But she concealed her reaction with a mischievous smile. “You win this round, Foxie,” she said, eyes gleaming as her hand moved back to his shaft. “But I assure you, you shall not win the next.”
“Is that a challenge, Lynx?” It sounded as though he had gravel in his throat.
Good. She bit down on her smile. “It’s a promise, Fox.”
And as an agonized look crossed the man’s beautiful face—as he bucked into her hold with a low, guttural moan—Hekla knew they weren’t nearly done sparring.
SIX
PRESENT DAY
The yard behind the Hungry Blade was bright with the rising sun, the light catching golden leaves on the old tree beyond the fence. It was early for the leaves to turn—easy to forget it hadn’t been long since the Bloodaxe Crew had celebrated the Longest Day. Hekla’s chest clenched tight at that thought, and she forced her attention to the yard.
The clash of steel vibrated the air. Hakonsson’s men had paired off and were sparring, but to Hekla’s dismay, she failed to find Sigrún and Gunnar amongst them. With a long exhale, she tried to quell her disappointment. Gunnar had seemed more upbeat this morning; Sigrún a pillar of stoic resilience. For a small moment, Hekla had felt the Bloodaxe Crew back at her side, and gods, but it had been such a relief.
She straightened her spine and strolled amongst the warriors. They had good form, their movements crisp and laced with power. It was clear they were well-trained. But as one warrior’s armor caught the sunlight, Hekla shielded her eyes.
“Better put that armor to use, warrior,” she said dryly. “Get some scuff marks on it before you blind someonewith it.”
The man and his opponent paused, two pairs of steely eyes slicing into her skin. She recognized one as the warrior who’d shared her bench at the daymeal. He frowned, assessing her.
“I suppose you’d like to try,woman?”
Hekla let out a heavy sigh. As a woman in a mercenary crew, it often went this way. And perhaps it was her good fortune she’d inadvertently insulted the largest warrior in Eyvind’s retinue. Because Hekla knew she’d have to make an example of him.
The yard had quieted, and Hekla felt the whole of the retinue watching her. Good. She’d show them how a woman fought. All thatemotionhad to be channeled somewhere.
Hekla put a hand on her waist, popping her hip. “I’m Hekla,” she told the man, batting her eyelashes. “And your name, blue eyes?”
His eyes narrowed in clear suspicion. “Thrand Long Sword. Eyvind’s Second.”
“Long Sword?” Hekla smirked, glancing at his groin. “Trying to compensate for something, are you?”
A chorus of incredulous laughter filled the air. The warm undertones of Thrand’s tawny complexion seemed to flush darker. He concealed his humiliation with a twirl of his sword.
“I’d challenge you to combat, but I don’t fight women.”
He turned his back on her, a gesture of such disrespect it made Hekla’s blood simmer with rage. But she forced calm into her voice as she called out, “Or perhaps you’re simply afraid you’ll lose.”
She’d uttered these words more times than she cared to count, and so Hekla was unsurprised when they had the desired effect. Slowly, Thrand turned, his blue eyes hard as shards of ice. The whole of the yard watched the pair of them. There was no way Thrand could back away from this challenge now.
“Come and say that to my face,” he gritted out.
