I growl, placing my hands between us and planting my palms on his chest. I try to push him off of me as the immediate anger inside of me builds. He only grins down at me, which is naturally fucking beautiful.
“Do you not wish another woman to desire me, sváss?” he purrs.
Pressing my lips together, I narrow my eyes up at him as he smiles with delight down at me. “No, I don’t,” I snap. “Do you want other men to desire me?”
His grin dies and a growl erupts from deep within his chest. “They will desire you not just because you are an unmatched beauty, but also because you are a dróttning. To have you is to have power over me. So, no I do not want men to desire you, but I am not foolish enough to think that they will not.”
“Women are the same, Aaric,” I whisper. “They will want you because you’re the sexiest man on this earth. They will also want you because you are a king, and you wield power like no other man I have ever come across in my life.”
“For you, my dróttning, I will never take Isolda to bed again, yeah?”
“Or anyone else?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he slants his head to the side and takes my mouth with his own. Then, he takes my body and I drift off to sleep, the question still on my tongue and the realization that he did not answer that question. That is answer enough and inside, my stomach clenches as something withers away inside of me.
Chapter Twenty-Two
AARIC
My men are already there when I arrive at the cabin. I shouldn’t be surprised, I am a bit late, my wife having kept me busy—multiple times. Walking into the room, I’m not surprised to see a fire has been lit and all of the men’s heads turn toward me, their eyes alight with humor.
“Busy?” Hagen asks.
I grunt, not wishing to have the conversation about lying with my own wife with him or anyone else. “That is not why I’m here.”
They all laugh at my expense as I roll my eyes up to the gods. Shifting my eyes back to meet theirs, I reach for a cup and fill it with ale. “Sit, we all need to talk,” I grunt.
The laughter dies almost instantly as they all take their seats. I take a healthy drink of the ale, then let out a long-exhaled sigh.
“We have a problem,” I state. They watch me intently, waiting for me to continue. “Fiske is possessed with a demon,” I explain.
“A what?” Gunnar shouts.
“I saw it in his eyes. I watched as it took over. He is not right,” I say.
The room is silent, the men look at one another, then shift their eyes back toward me. “What do we do?” Hagen asks.
I shrug a shoulder. “He’s becoming angrier and angrier. His announcement tonight was not appropriate.”
“I wondered,” Sten mutters.
“To say the raid was his idea, that he wanted to make sure all of the people of our city were secure for the winter. Then grabbing ahold of Isolda that way, it was a challenge.”
Gunnar clears his throat, his eyes focusing on my own. “Will you be accepting the challenge?”
I snort. “I gave Isolda to him. I have no need for a bed slave, not now anyway. If I cannot have an heir with my wife, I will procure one for that if it comes down to it. Anyway, what challenge can there be? Unless he’s wanting to challenge me for my throne.”
“That is a fight he will not win,” Gunnar announces.
“Agreed.” I nod.
We talk amongst one another for a few more moments. “How can we eradicate the demon?”
“There is only one way that I know, it’s why I haven’t mentioned it to Runa or the seeress,” I mutter.
“Speak,” Gunnar grunts.
Flicking my gaze up to meet his, he watches me. He knows as well. It isn’t practiced widely. It is avoided because of its cruel nature. Clearing my throat, I nod my head.
“Blood Eagle.”
The men are silent, they each take a big gulp of their drinks as they look down at the floor of the cabin.
“We can’t. He’s Fiske,” Hagen mutters.
“I know.” I nod my head in agreement. “It is the only way that I know. He is my brother, I don’t want to do it, not at all.”
“What happens next then?” the usually quiet Kjeld, asks.
Shaking my head, I lift my hand and run my fingers through my hair. “I have him on a separate ship for the raid and allowed him to take Isolda. It was all I could think to do to appease him.”
“So we must be careful with him? We must keep him happy, that should prove to be difficult,” Gunnar grunts.
With a snort, I take another gulp of the ale. “Nobody could keep Fiske appeased, not ever. I just did in that moment. If I do the Blood Eagle ritual, he’ll die. If I kill him before the ritual the demon could enter my own body.”
“If an enemy kills him, the demon will enter their own body, then it would be taken care of,” Hagen says.
Nodding my head, I look down at the floor, then lift my eyes back to meet theirs. “Would it make me a bad brother and a terrible konungr to wish for that?” I ask.
None of my men say anything immediately. They all look anywhere but into my eyes and that’s all of the answer that I need. I feel like a terrible person. I wait for the gods to take their vengeance on me for even contemplating the demise of my own flesh and blood.
“You are not a terrible person for wanting the best for your people. If something happens to you and Fiske becomes the konungr, your people will suffer,” Gunnar says.
Pressing my lips together, I lean back in my seat and let out a frustrated growl. “Fiske has always been difficult. He’s always wanted power, he’s always desired to win at any cost, even if it meant cheating. Bonds like brotherhood, like friends, they have never meant much to him. Even when it came to my bed slave, he thinks that though I gave her to him, that he has somehow come out on top with something that I still desire.”
The men let out grunts of agreement, nodding their heads along to everything that I’ve said. They know Fiske almost as well as I do. We have all fought side by side for decades. If anyone knows what Fiske is capable of, it is these men surrounding me.
“So what do we do?” I ask.
Gunnar stands, placing his fist on the table as he leans over, his eyes focused on my own. “We do nothing, my Konungr. We go into battle on our raid. We let the gods handle the fate of Fiske. If they do not, then we will go from there,” Hagen states, his jaw clenched as his teeth grind together.
“We will ask Runa for protection in the battle,” Gunnar adds.
“We will bring our dróttning for good luck. For she has the protection of the gods,” Sten booms.
We all raise our cups, Kjeld stands, and we follow suit. “To our dróttning, our goddess sent to protect us, to create a new dynasty with our konungr. May the prophecy bring great bounty on our people and Wolfjour Ail and all of your holdings,” he toasts.
We all shout and cheer before taking healthy drinks from our cups. A few moments later, not feeling any better about the situation, but at least feeling as though a small weight has been lifted from my shoulders, I head back to home, to my víf.