fears that your father will be upset that his cart has been destroyed. But it was an accident, a freak occurrence.”
His stomach twisted as he watched her absorb his lie.
He’d called himself a man of honor, but he wasn’t above lying to Elisead if it meant keeping her safe. If it was truly all an unfortunate happenstance, he needn’t worry her pointlessly. Of course, he didn’t believe for a second that the smoothly sliced harness was an accident, in which case frightening Elisead with the truth wouldn’t keep her any safer.
When Elisead placed her hand in his, he lifted her to her feet. But when she stumbled, he scooped her up, not trusting her shaky legs to carry her back to camp.
He’d be damned by Odin himself if he gave in to these intimidation tactics. Yet the thought of Elisead being harmed for the purpose of keeping him from his mission sent a stab of fear into his belly.
No matter what, he had to protect Elisead. His mission was riding on it.
But it was more than that. Some invisible thread tugged at him, binding him to her. He would protect her with everything he had. But protect her from whom?
Chapter Sixteen
As Alaric walked into camp, his crew’s activities stilled. With Elisead cradled against his chest and Rúnin pulling the cart-less donkey behind him, he was sure they made quite the sight.
Alaric felt Elisead stiffen in his arms at all the stares. His fingers dug into her soft flesh, longing to shield her from the scrutiny. Instead, he strode swiftly to the tent Elisead now used as her own. The subtle but sweet scent of her hair and skin lingered within, enveloping him as he stepped inside.
He set her gently on the mattress at the back, then turned to go. But she caught his sleeve, which was still red with her blood.
“Alaric, something goes on. Why won’t you tell me?”
She gazed up at him, her pleading eyes rending him like a knife.
“As I said, ’tis naught. Rest here for the day. The cut seems to have stopped bleeding, but you needn’t push yourself.”
Elisead’s soft lips curved down as she continued to stare up at him. But at last, she leaned back against the downy mattress with a sigh. Her dark lashes fluttered closed as she succumbed to fatigue.
Alaric should have turned away, but it was as if his feet were rooted in place, his eyes drinking in the sight before him thirstily.
Elisead’s auburn hair spread out beneath her head, wild and windblown. Her delicate features were at last easing out of their frown, though even in dismay she was stunning.
As her breathing evened, he watched her breasts rise and fall. With each inhale, those pert peaks strained against her finely made tunic, which was soiled and stained from their tumble in the forest.
What would those soft breasts feel like in his hands? Could he make her now-steady breaths catch in her throat with a swish of his thumb—or his tongue?
Alaric ripped his gaze away and stormed to the tent’s flaps.
What in Hel’s realm was he doing? He wasn’t fool enough to deny his attraction to the Pict chieftain’s daughter, but he knew better than to indulge in the kind of lust-filled musings that had nigh made him lose control just now. His manhood stirred rebelliously under his tunic. Bloody hammer, not only did he not have time for such thoughts, but they threatened his entire mission.
He yanked back one of the tent’s flaps and stomped out into the bright sunlight. Several members of his crew had gathered in front of the tent, waiting for him to emerge.
“What happened?” asked Tarr, the brown-headed youth who’d worked so hard over the last several months to join this voyage. “Rúnin wouldn’t answer us. He said he’d let you explain.”
Alaric flicked a glance at Rúnin, who was tying the donkey to a nearby tree. He gave Rúnin a swift nod of thanks, then pushed his way through the gathered crowd.
“Naught but an accident. The donkey was spooked on our way from the
His stomach twisted as he watched her absorb his lie.
He’d called himself a man of honor, but he wasn’t above lying to Elisead if it meant keeping her safe. If it was truly all an unfortunate happenstance, he needn’t worry her pointlessly. Of course, he didn’t believe for a second that the smoothly sliced harness was an accident, in which case frightening Elisead with the truth wouldn’t keep her any safer.
When Elisead placed her hand in his, he lifted her to her feet. But when she stumbled, he scooped her up, not trusting her shaky legs to carry her back to camp.
He’d be damned by Odin himself if he gave in to these intimidation tactics. Yet the thought of Elisead being harmed for the purpose of keeping him from his mission sent a stab of fear into his belly.
No matter what, he had to protect Elisead. His mission was riding on it.
But it was more than that. Some invisible thread tugged at him, binding him to her. He would protect her with everything he had. But protect her from whom?
Chapter Sixteen
As Alaric walked into camp, his crew’s activities stilled. With Elisead cradled against his chest and Rúnin pulling the cart-less donkey behind him, he was sure they made quite the sight.
Alaric felt Elisead stiffen in his arms at all the stares. His fingers dug into her soft flesh, longing to shield her from the scrutiny. Instead, he strode swiftly to the tent Elisead now used as her own. The subtle but sweet scent of her hair and skin lingered within, enveloping him as he stepped inside.
He set her gently on the mattress at the back, then turned to go. But she caught his sleeve, which was still red with her blood.
“Alaric, something goes on. Why won’t you tell me?”
She gazed up at him, her pleading eyes rending him like a knife.
“As I said, ’tis naught. Rest here for the day. The cut seems to have stopped bleeding, but you needn’t push yourself.”
Elisead’s soft lips curved down as she continued to stare up at him. But at last, she leaned back against the downy mattress with a sigh. Her dark lashes fluttered closed as she succumbed to fatigue.
Alaric should have turned away, but it was as if his feet were rooted in place, his eyes drinking in the sight before him thirstily.
Elisead’s auburn hair spread out beneath her head, wild and windblown. Her delicate features were at last easing out of their frown, though even in dismay she was stunning.
As her breathing evened, he watched her breasts rise and fall. With each inhale, those pert peaks strained against her finely made tunic, which was soiled and stained from their tumble in the forest.
What would those soft breasts feel like in his hands? Could he make her now-steady breaths catch in her throat with a swish of his thumb—or his tongue?
Alaric ripped his gaze away and stormed to the tent’s flaps.
What in Hel’s realm was he doing? He wasn’t fool enough to deny his attraction to the Pict chieftain’s daughter, but he knew better than to indulge in the kind of lust-filled musings that had nigh made him lose control just now. His manhood stirred rebelliously under his tunic. Bloody hammer, not only did he not have time for such thoughts, but they threatened his entire mission.
He yanked back one of the tent’s flaps and stomped out into the bright sunlight. Several members of his crew had gathered in front of the tent, waiting for him to emerge.
“What happened?” asked Tarr, the brown-headed youth who’d worked so hard over the last several months to join this voyage. “Rúnin wouldn’t answer us. He said he’d let you explain.”
Alaric flicked a glance at Rúnin, who was tying the donkey to a nearby tree. He gave Rúnin a swift nod of thanks, then pushed his way through the gathered crowd.
“Naught but an accident. The donkey was spooked on our way from the
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