To Buy A Wife

Chapter 7

Lake woke, her heart pounding, her muscles tight. Something woke her. A shout? A mimicked call of an animal? It took a moment for her to take in her surroundings: The exposed beams on the ceiling, the heavy wood furniture that were no more than dark shapes in the night, and a pair of legs that were entangled with her own.

She was with Hudson—her husband. She was safe. She tried to move, but the arm that was draped over her, pulled her back until her bottom was nestled against his groin. Lake experimented a little and wiggled. He moaned softly in his sleep, and she could feel his body react to hers. Lake smiled. She was sore, but on a different level there was a bone deep satisfaction. What if she could spend the rest of her life here, in this bed, with this man? Was it so bad to want to stop fighting? Was it wrong of her to want peace?

She shook her head. No, there was a bigger picture than just her.

Earlier had been a kaleidoscope of emotions. When Hudson had first made her his, it had burned. Then Hudson had been there, filling her until she didn't think she'd ever be able to breathe again. He'd moved with the same rhythm as when his fingers had been deep inside her, but different, more. Her had body ached, reaching for something. Then the world had exploded. The sound of her name on Hudson's lips still sent shivers through her. The place where his name marked her as his still tingled.

There'd been virginal blood, just like she'd promised. Hudson had remade the bed, cleaned her up, and then they made love again, slower. The sheets that proved her virginity were folded and placed in the chest by the foot of the bed. His claim on her was absolute.

The Marking celebration had gone on without them. Neither one of them had wanted to leave the bedroom. The shouts of laughter and raunchy toasts outside finally faded to quiet as the night air grew thick with the anticipation of rain. Heat lighting flashed through the slit window high above her bed. No distant roar of thunder followed.

A owl hooted outside her window. So faint, and yet...Lake sat straight up in bed. She knew that call. Had relived that call a thousand times in her head. The call bred fear like moldy wheat left in the storehouse. Elder. Raid.

How had they found her?

Didn't matter, this time there'd be war. She'd make sure of it. They weren't going to take everything this time. This time Vonn was safe. He couldn't be used against her. She'd fight to the death before she'd go back to prison.

Lake flung off Hudson's arm and jumped out of bed. Her husband was still snoring by the time she was dressed.

Boots on, sword strapped to her side, she flung open the door prepared to meet them head on. Never again would she be dragged out of her bed, taken unaware, made to watch her home burn. Her family killed.

"What's going on?" Hudson sat up, hand rubbing across his face, hair devastatingly rumpled. Lake's heart caught. Never again would she watch her family die.

She smiled to reassure him. "Stay here. I'll come back when it's safe."

Lake closed the door, threw the bolt, and walked down the hallway. The look on Hudson's face had been priceless. He hadn't known what hit him. It was better that way. She'd keep him safe.

Besides, he'd never understand. He'd think this involved him—his wife, his duty to protect her. But this had always been about her. She fought her fights alone.

The Marker was passed out before the cold hearth, the bottle of wine empty beside him. For a split second Lake was jealous, but no, this was better. Better to go down fighting.

She paused at the front door, pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Wait for it. There. A cross between a raven's screech and an owl's cry, but different and a hundred percent Elder.