“You’re nothing but an envious fool.” Rachelle wished with all her heart that Tyr would send a war band to rescue her. “I’d give anything to see him again, to have a chance to apologize.” She missed him.
He ignored her remark. “This union will make you part of the royal family. Imagine the esteem and influence you’ll enjoy.” He eyed her. “You would do well to cooperate with Bera.”
He left on that dire warning.
Rachelle dressed, only for the sake of self-preservation. A woman in her position shouldn’t risk her life by resisting the prince. Yet she harbored the hope her Viking wouldn’t fail her. He couldn’t.
Less than an hour later, Rachelle meekly followed Aaron outside, flanked by eight guards, to an area just beyond the tents. Three fires burned and a bearded musician played a solemn melody on his flute. Edwin looked undeniably handsome dressed in a dark blue tunic and matching fur cloak. Bera joined a small assembly of well-dressed witnesses near the fires. Several of his men lounged on fallen trees, while others stood a short distance away.
Edwin tossed her a proud smile, admiration showing in his eyes as he offered his hand in welcome. She shuffled into herspot beside him with only a brief acknowledgement before her gaze strayed to the priest. She nearly fainted upon recognition. It was the same ghastly creature who had caused her endless nightmares as a child. Although his face was a bit more haggard and his robes shabbier than she remembered, those insidious eyes hadn’t changed. His frail body reminded her of a chicken bone picked clean. She should curse him. Why did God tempt her this way? What unforgivable acts had she committed to deserve this torture? After she’d left York as a child, she’d prayed she would never have to face a priest as cold-blooded as this one.
“The ocean couldn’t keep us from meeting again,” he commented.
Her lips pursed and she shook her head at him. “Nor bells, fennel, or hawthorn.”
Edwin choked back a laugh. “Are you suggesting this priest is an evil spirit?”
“I’ll leave that foryouto decide, milord,” she snapped.
The prince chuckled. “You are everything I hoped for, sweet Rachelle.” Edwin tugged her close. “It is with great pleasure I welcome you into my life. Put aside your grievance with this holy man until after we are united.”
Her cheeks flamed. This exceeded a simple grievance—she wanted to kill him. She prayed for a miracle; fire raining down from heaven would be a nice start.
Chapter Sixteen
Divine Interference
With a sinkingheart, Tyr left his stallion free to roam while he sniffed the nighttime air. Instinct drove him eastward—fresh hoof prints had led him to this camp. He knew it was Edwin. Few men could afford the luxury of such finely crafted tents. Hoping to enter the encampment undetected, he eyed the sky with its unobstructed view ofOdins vogn—the great bear and lode stars. Raising his hands, he greeted the gods.
Hail Day! Hail sons of Day! Hail Night and her daughter!
With watchful eyes, look upon me and give me victory!
Once he finished praying, he advanced. The eerie silence strangled him. A well-tended fire blazed in the common area between the shelters. There was no mistaking the ceremonial circle demarcated by a crudely built altar. Blood stained the snow. Perhaps a marital sacrifice…
Edwin must have sealed his troth with ritual blood, though he claimed to be baptized.Falsifier. A true bastard down to his cowardly heart. Odin’s law remained ever superior to men’s imperfect canon. Even the prince recognized that. Imagining the hypocrite manhandling Rachelle made his hunger for vengeance explode. “Hvis du rører henne du drittsekk, dreper jeg deg!”
He gripped his sword tightly, then rushed the tents with a bloodcurdling scream, wildly shredding canvas in his race to find Rachelle.
Men scrambled away from him as if he was a ravenous animal. He reached the last tent and ripped open the flap, heedless of what threat waited inside. His heart was driven by Rachelle’s unheard pleading, the worst fear he’d ever felt. What if Edwin was forcing himself on her? As he had imagined, the sight of Rachelle crushed against the upstart’s chest with her arm pinned behind her back, drove him mad.
“Tyr!” she cried. “I’m sorry I disobeyed you,” she sobbed.
Her apology pierced his heart. Edwin had exploited Tyr’s hospitality and kidnapped the woman he loved. In truth, Rachelle had never been looking for excitement. She’d only craved a safe haven—family—love. That’s why she’d clung to him the moment they’d found each other. And what had he done? Rejected her. Lied to her. Hurt her. The fierce world he forced her into, the restrictions he’d put upon her, the misery and discomfort he’d caused… Everything blurred together. This moment would decide their future. Tyr refused to be held prisoner by a godless malingerer. If death claimed him, he’d drag Edwin into the depths ofHel,leaving Rachelle safe.
The desperation in her voice intensified his need for blood. White hot jealousy flared inside him. “Release her.”
Edwin raised his chin defiantly. “I was afraid you’d miss our wedding feast. I apologize for not sending a personal invitation. I’ve been preoccupied with my reluctant bride.”
Rachelle twisted to break free. “Let go.”
But Edwin held tight, brushing kisses across her milky throat, positioning her so Tyr would be forced to watch. The prince touched her in places no other man had the right to explore, his cursed fingers tracing the contours of her beautiful face. Tyr eyed Edwin’s weapon belt. He couldn’t risk a direct attack yet, Rachelle might get hurt. Ty’s heart hammered—hatred swelling inside him.
A flash of movement forced Tyr to look over his shoulder. Aaron stood inside with a weapon drawn. Tyr swung around to face him.
“My god.” His cousin froze. “How… when did you get here?”
Tyr despised Aaron’s weakness. “Your treachery ends tonight,” he threatened, unwilling to take his eyes off Edwin for too long. “Throw down your sword.”
