Gently, I run my fingers up and down Liv’s bare back. She’s pressed against my side, her cheek resting against my chest as she breathes. I wonder what she dreams of. What do the gods give her to think about as she rests so peacefully?
There’s a quick knock on my door and carefully, I slip from beneath her softness. Grabbing my discarded hides, I tug them up my legs as I make my way toward the door. Opening it slightly, I slip out, and find myself standing across from Fiske.
“What are you doing?” I grunt.
He looks up at me, and for the first time since I discovered his demon, it is gone. All I see is Fiske staring back at me. He looks to the side, then shifts his gaze back to meet my own.
“Something is wrong,” he hisses. “I feel it growing inside of me.”
“A darkness?” I ask.
He gulps, nodding his head a couple of times. “It grows inside of me. I have lost hours and even days of my life to it. I wake up and I do not know what has happened.”
I want to believe him. I have no doubt that the darkness causes him to black out, to not be in control of his own body, but if I kill him, that darkness will enter my body and I can’t allow it, not for my people’s sake.
“Did you hurt, Isolda?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything.” He’s trembling and as much as I want to be angry with him, I simply cannot be.
“We leave soon, Fiske. You must get a handle on whatever is ailing you. Do you need to see Runa?” I ask hoping that he will agree to the suggestion.
He shakes his head. “Nei, I do not. I will be okay. I must go.”
“Where to?” I ask as he turns his back on me.
When he looks back at me from over his shoulder, my stomach drops. The demon is back. He smiles, it’s nothing like the Fiske of just seconds ago, it is evil and there is no denying that this is not my brother’s eyes looking back at me.
I watch in silence as he turns back around and heads straight toward Isolda’s room. I’m unsure how he knows exactly where she is, but I’m also not about to stop him. She is his, and although I don’t wish for her to be harmed, I can’t deny that I’m a bit frightened of the demon inside of him.
“Aaric?” Liv’s sweet voice calls.
Turning around, I see her standing at the door a fur wrapped around her shoulder, her red hair messy from sleep and my hands. “Fiske,” I grunt as though it will answer any of the questions that she has.
“Okay,” she nods.
“Something is wrong with him,” I explain.
“Okay,” she repeats.
With a heavy sigh, I walk toward her, then past her as she steps to the side. Closing the door behind her, I guide her back toward our bed. Once we’re lying down again, I pull her close against me, just needing to feel her body pressed against my own.
“Is this about her?” she asks on a whisper.
“Nei, Liv.”
I expect her to cease talking about the issue, but she doesn’t. Instead, she places her palm on my chest and pushes her body up so that her eyes find mine. “Aaric, what is going on?”
Shaking my head once, I shift my gaze to the side before I move it back to meet hers. “It is not your concern.”
“It is. This is my home, too.”
With a snort, I give her a mocking smirk. I know that what I say next will no doubt hurt her delicate sensibilities as I seem to so often do. However, I cannot have her poking into this situation.
“You have no say in this situation, in my people, Liv,” I announce.
She blinks, then shakes her head and I know that she is attempting to shake the hurt away that I’ve caused her. Lifting my head, I touch my lips to her forehead.
“It is not a bad thing, sváss. You will be part of us one day, but not on this subject,” I say softly, attempting to soothe the hurt that I’ve just caused. “Sleep, víf.”
Fiske’s demon started around the time he and Isolda began. If my new suspicions are correct, I cannot have Liv angering that demon or Isolda. I am leery. I have known Isolda for several years. She’s been my thrall, my bed slave without issue, while I have been here in Attleview.
Any time that I have traveled, I have always either paid for an evening with another, or have wooed a more than willing woman in my bed. Isolda has never asked a single question, though it seemed as if she rather enjoyed her position at my side in bed.
Now that it’s been taken away from her, I am seeing a side of her that I am questioning. Perhaps I never looked deep enough into her before. She has been inconsequential, just a body to warm my bed.
However, it seems that she is not just a warm body, I have a feeling that she is more than that. Liv’s body relaxes, but I am under no illusion that she is asleep. Neither of us falls asleep, we bide our time in silence until the sun rises and the húsgørd begins to awaken.
LIV
I watch Aaric through our breakfast. He is distracted and the entire time his gaze stays glued to Isolda, who waltzed in here on Fiske’s arm as if last night didn’t happen. Something isn’t right with her. I knew it the moment that I met her and I feel it even more now.
“Runa,” Aaric calls.
Runa lifts her head from her plate and her brows rise in question. He speaks, but annoyingly, I don’t understand a word that he’s said. She nods her head and rises to her feet almost immediately. Her gaze flicking from Aaric to me, then back to Aaric again. To his credit, Aaric doesn’t respond to her question. Instead, he lifts his hand and touches my shoulder.
“I will be back shortly, do not leave this main area, já?” he asks.
Nodding, I lick my lips. “Okay, Aaric.”
“That’s a good dróttning,” he rasps.
I can’t control the hitch in my breath, the way I need to squeeze my thighs together as desire pools in my belly.
He essentially called me a good queen, which basically he meant good girl and I don’t know what it is about a big beautiful man calling me a good girl or maybe just this big beautiful man calling me that, but Jesus I want him inside of me—now.
Runa scrambles from her seat and rushes after him, I lose sight of them as they disappear into a small room off to the side. It’s an office type room and I assume that’s where Aaric does all of his kingly duties, when he must.
Though I have to admit, I haven’t seen him in there much, he’s all about being out and about. I guess that I can’t blame him, who wants to be cooped up all the time, anyway? The seeress clears her throat on the other side of Oili.
Hillevi lifts one brow. “Are you okay?” she mouths.
Flicking my gaze from Aaric’s office to Isolda, then back to her, I shrug a shoulder. I’m not okay. Something is happening, something big. I can feel it deep inside of me, but Aaric refuses to tell me what it is.
She nods, then I watch as she stands and makes her way over to me. Hillevi practically floats as she walks, she’s so beautiful, so calm and so just otherworldly. I watch in silence as she sinks down on the edge of his seat.
“What is wrong?” she asks, though it wouldn’t matter, nobody here can understand us anyway.
“Aaric is hiding something from me, something to do with Fiske and that Isolda,” I grind out. She hums but doesn’t deny or confirm my suspicions. “He says that I don’t need to know. That it involves his people, but they’re mine too, aren’t they?”