But maybe he still hated her. Maybe this had just been another punishment. He’d told her there was no way she could gain his forgiveness, right? No way she could ever atone for what she’d done?
And now… now, he could so easily destroy her. He could refuse. He could mock her, or say how hideous and disappointing she’d been. He could get up, and walk away.There is naught you could ever, ever do…
Raye was fully trembling now, cowering closer to the fur, bracing herself for his answer. Gods, what would she do if he publicly rejected her, how would she survive, where would she go, what about Svein?
Kalfr’s eyes flickered, his chest rising and falling, and with a jerky movement, he shoved up onto his knees on the fur. Not looking at Raye, now, but tilting his head up, and raising his fist to his heart.
“Goddess of Bautul,” he said, his voice a low rasp. “I bring this woman before you, and before all our kin. I wish you to…”
He hesitated, his eyes flickering down toward Raye, flaring something sharp and anguished through her belly, but then he squared his shoulders, took a breath. “I wish you to see her great bravery,” he continued. “I wish you to see all the care and kindness and safety she has granted our son. I wish you to see how she seeks to honour both me and myástvinur, and to make amends.”
What? Raye jolted and stared at him, because he — what? He’d said there was no way to make amends. No path to forgiveness. And now — now —
“And thus,” he said, on a heavy exhale, as he raised his eyes to the stone ceiling, “I seek your favour toward her. I ask you to call down your blessing upon her.”
The goddess’ favour. Herblessing. Kalfr was truly saying this, truly asking for this, for Raye. Before all his kin.
The truth of it swelled in Raye’s chest, bright and shaky and dangerous, and before she could stop it, a hoarse, gulping sob escaped from her burning throat. The sound echoing through the hushed room, ringing loud and shameful and strange.
But in its wake, something… stilled. Something that sagged Raye’s shoulders, slowed her breaths, held her eyes on her mate’s kneeling, pleading body. He was so beautiful, so pure, and she could almost feel his goddess’ blessing settling down around him, circling like a halo over his bowed head, alighting on his gleaming shoulders. So strong that Raye couldn’t bear to look at him, and she bent herself lower before him, her hand over her thudding heart, and even pressed a soft, reverent kiss to the fur beneath his knees. Honouring him, worshipping him as the true, generous, glorious goddess’ son he was.
And surely, the rest of them saw it, too. Raye could feel that Gaelfr saw it, with his hand clutching tight to her hip, hisclaws pricking against her sweaty skin. The watching orcs had to see it too, with their rising murmurs and exhales, and even a few relieved chuckles. And when Raye risked a glance sideways, she knew Silfast saw it too, his jaw clenched, his hard eyes glimmering with recognition. With decision.
“You will have your band,vörður,” he said flatly, as he thumped his fist to his heart. “See that you wield it well.”
They’d done it. They’d done it. And Raye could have laughed, or wept, and her smile up toward Kalfr was swift and grateful, quivering with eagerness and hope. They’d done it, he’d honoured her before his goddess and all his kin, and showed her a way toward amends. To peace.
And this time, Kalfr looked back at her, his eyes soft and bright, as a slow, genuine smile pulled at his mouth. He was smiling at her,smilingat her, and it was as though the whole world had burst into heat and wonder and yearning. He was hers. Her mate. Her blessing.
And with a reckless, helpless abandon, Raye surged up to her knees, and kissed him.
38
Kissing Kalfr was like falling into a whirling, wheeling abyss. Lost in the taste of him, the softness of his lips, the gentle caress of his tongue.
But strongest of all were the sudden, almost-forgotten memories, blaring behind Raye’s eyes. The first time he’d ever kissed her, cautious and chaste, in her garden beneath the moonlight. The second time he’d done it, against her front door, her face cupped reverently in his hands. And all the times after, when he’d so often done it deep and thorough, plundering her mouth as his body had rocked over her, cradling her close and safe onto her bed.
And for a breathless, burning instant, Raye thought maybe — maybe he would do it again. Maybe he would guide her back down onto the altar, and sink into her with such reverent, certain sweetness. Maybe he would cover over everything she’d just done with his warmth, his approval, his protection. He would prove to her he still cared, and prove it to all his kin, too.
But instead, his mouth suddenly froze against Raye’s, his body rigid and still. As if he’d just remembered what this was.Whoshe was.
And in a jerky movement, he drew away. Dropped his eyes. And turned his head sideways, toward where several of the previously watching orcs had come over to speak to him — apparently offering him their congratulations and best wishes, grinning and clapping him on the shoulder.
It left Raye kneeling alone and untouched, her lips tingling from the kiss, and her — oh. Her previously lovely chemise, now wrinkled and streaked with white. Her bare breasts, still spilling out flushed and swollen over its neckline. Her groin, her thighs, still smeared all over with thick, viscous fluid. And her arse, still bared beneath her rucked-up chemise, and now feeling distinctly flushed and bruised and tender — not only where Gaelfr had slapped her, but where he’d rammed his way inside her, too. Where she still felt slack and open, and could still feel Gaelfr’s leavings oozing out of her, dripping down toward the fur.
Raye’s face burned, and too late, she yanked at the chemise’s hem and neckline. But her fingers were shaking, her mouth trembling, and she almost sobbed at the feel of Gaelfr’s warm capable hands, turning her toward him, and pulling the chemise firmly back into place — and then he produced a cloth from his trousers, and began carefully mopping between her thighs.
“Should you… wish for any proper tending?” he asked, low and careful, beneath the still-rising chatters and voices around them. “Or a healer, mayhap?”
The vision of Gaelfr’s tongue licking between her legs flared with dizzying force, but Raye squeezed her eyes shut, and vehemently shook her head. She couldn’t bear more of this right now, even if it wasthat. And what would Kalfr think, what would he say, if Gaelfr were to start tending her like that, now? Because despite that blessing Kalfr had spoken at the end, the rest of it was rising again, bitter and humiliating. Kalfr had still exposedher. He’d still fucked her without touching her. And he still couldn’t even stand to kiss her.
Something had begun prickling behind Raye’s closed eyes, and she could feel Gaelfr’s slow exhale, fluttering against her hair. “This was… a good showing,sæta,” he said, quiet. “We should not have gained this band, without you.”
Raye fought down her scoff, but it was enough that she could open her eyes, and frown at his strangely intent face. “Don’t lie to me, Gaelfr,” she hissed back, hoarse. “If it wasn’t for me, you would have gotten the band without hesitation. I was… a liability to you. Tohim.”
She darted a helpless sideways look toward Kalfr, who was still smiling and nodding at the half-dozen orcs now circled around him — but then Gaelfr clasped her jaw, turned her face toward him again. “You were not,” he said stubbornly. “You have brought us great honour and peace with your deeds today. You have gained us the goddess’ blessing.”
Raye attempted a scoff, but her eyes were prickling again, her cheek spasming against Gaelfr’s hand. “B-but,” she began, with another sidelong glance at Kalfr. “He was still… it wasn’t even… he was only doing it for…”
