His Captive Bride by Shelly Thacker

her a quick glance—”but I do not think you will have any trouble with him.”
    She shook her head, surprise and disbelief battering her senses. “You... you are leaving?”
    “One of my duties is to patrol the shoreline and see that our border remains secure. I am often away.” He took a pair of gloves and a length of rope from the next trunk and added them to his pack. “While I am gone, you are free to go where you wish—”
    “Norseman—”
    “See your friend. Visit the town. Explore the island.” Carrying the sack, he stalked toward the weapons displayed above the hearth. “But stay away from the cliffs. People fall now and then. And keep out of the western part of the forest. There are wolves there—”
    “What makes you believe I will be here when you get back?”
    He did not look at her as he selected a battle-ax and lashed it to his pack. “Do not hope that my absence will make it easier for you to escape from Asgard,” he said quietly. “It will not.”
    He slung the pack over his shoulder and headed for the door.
    Shaking with desperation, with astonishment, Avril followed him. “You cannot mean to keep me here! You must let me return to my child!”
    He turned to face her. “Avril—”
    “You are not a barbarian. If you were, you would have let me die in Antwerp.” She moved closer, touched his arm. “You seem to have some code of honor or chivalry by which you live.”
    He did not reply, went utterly still.
    She lowered her gaze to the stone floor, willing to abandon all pride, to humble herself, willing to do anything to get home to her little girl.
    “Hauk,” she pleaded quietly, letting her hand drop to her side. “Do you want me to beg? Then I am begging you. Please , in the name of whatever gods you believe in, show mercy. My little Giselle is only three. When I left for Antwerp, I told her I would be gone but ten days, no more.” Dampness burned in Avril’s eyes. “She did not understand, so I gave her ten raisin sweetcakes and told her to eat one each day, and when the last one was gone, her maman would be home—”
    Her voice choked out. Had Giselle eaten the last cake yet? Had she looked at Celine and Gaston with tear-filled eyes and asked why Maman had not returned, why Maman had broken her promise?
    “S-she is barely more than a baby. I still sing her a lullaby every afternoon before her nap.” Avril lifted her head to find him looking at her intently, and she could not stop the tear that slid down her cheek. “She loves pink flowers and butterflies and pretty dolls. The toy I had in my hand in Antwerp, the one I dropped when you and I collided? I bought it for her. I promised I would bring her a spinning top from the fair. She calls them ‘pretty spinnys.’” Another tear slipped past her lashes. “Would you do this to an innocent child? Would you take a baby’s mother from her?”
    He said naught for a moment, remained frozen.
    Then he looked off into the darkness and answered her, his voice flat, emotionless.
    “I already have.”
    “ Damn you!” She slapped him hard enough to leave the red imprint of her hand on his face. “Damn you to Hell’s deepest pit, Norseman! If you try to keep me here, I swear I will—”
    “Kill me?” An odd, self-mocking expression curved his mouth. “I doubt that.”
    Turning on his heel, he strode away from her. “Heed what I have told you and do not make things more difficult, Avril. I will return in two or three days. Until then, I bid you farewell.”
    With that, he walked out and slammed the door behind him.
    She could only stare in open-mouthed disbelief at the spot where he had last stood. Robbed of a target for her fury, she could not even move for a moment. Turning her head, she looked around the vast, empty chamber with its guttering candles and silent shadows.
    Then she rushed over to the door and tried the latch.
    It was open. He had not bothered to lock her in. Which meant he was entirely confident of what he