He stands in front of Emeline before slapping her cheek.
The cage rattles as Ulf throws his body against the bars. “You weak coward,” he sneers. “The only way you can subdue her is when she is restrained, and even then, she is far braver than every single one of you Veslingrs.”
The man withdraws his sword, placing the blade between the bars and positioning it over Ulf’s heart. “Speak that Pagen blasphemy again, heathen, I dare thee.”
The air is still.
Violence brews.
It is time.
A pause, before Ulf smirks. “Meinfretr.”
That’s my cue.
The man pulls back his sword as Emeline screams. Ulf, however, peers overhead and locks eyes with me, for he knew all along I was here because, although enemies, we share one common interest—Emeline. And this is why we will always be on the same side.
I come out of hiding, sword swinging, taking anyone down. It’s an ambush where I have the advantage. They don’t stand a chance. Three are dead, four fatally wounded. In the violence and bloodshed is where I thrive, and I don’t stop until I am within feet of the woman I love with every piece of my heart.
My back is to her, and I dare the remaining five men to come at me because they will not win. But their leader is the one I need to disarm because he is stabbing Ulf. As much as I wish he were hurt, dead is something I cannot allow because I need this bastard alive.
Spinning around, I come face-to-face with Emeline—my hugrekki.
It feels like centuries, not years, since I last saw her.
Everything is still for a fraction of time as I take her in. Those eyes I wish to drown in as she undresses me with desire. Those lips I wish to part with my tongue. That body I want yielding and writhing under mine. And that soul I wish to possess as she possesses mine.
She is still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and my world is suddenly complete once more. She looks at me with love and…hatred. I expected as much. Our reunion is sure to burn this country to the ground.
I wish I could savor this moment in time, but it’ll have to wait.
“I’ve missed you, Hugrekki,” I say, cutting the rope that bounds her.
“And I have missed you, heathen,” she replies, retrieving a sword from a fallen soldier.
I know better than to ask if she’s okay.
Instead, I throw my hammer axe at the man stabbing Ulf. It lodges into the back of his shoulder, disarming him.
“Took you long enough,” Ulf quips, bleeding from his wounds.
He’ll sadly live.
“Too bad they didn’t cut out your tongue.”
“The gods would be saddened not to hear my melodious voice,” he bites back with a smirk.
As much as I hate him, I’ve missed this arsehole.
I kick the man in the back, resulting in him falling face-first in the mud. When he tries to rise, I press my boot into the small of his back, pinning him down. Bending down, I snatch the keys from his belt. He dares not move as I unlock Ulf’s cage and cut through his binds.
Ulf picks up a fallen sword and charges toward the man. He doesn’t hesitate to stab him in the flank.
Just as he is about to deliver a fatal strike, I intervene. “What good is he to us dead? You were caught with the intent, no doubt, to smoke me out and gather information on who works against us. All this would have been for nothing.”
“It brought you here, did it not?” he contests, angered that I am about to spoil his murderous fun.
“He’s right.”
