2 book of the series
Irvina was always a religious woman. So far North, people believed more than down South. Every one of her decisions was first at least twice consulted with her Seeress. So when the lost raven-haired woman sailed to her shores, i...
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They didn't speak to each other for three days, and Irvina felt stupid. Why was she acting so stubborn? It physically hurt her, seeing him across the boat, alone. Her gaze settled on Sigrún as she climbed out of the ship. Her people were setting up a tent as she made sure that everyone was out of the boats.
She was fighting inner turmoil. He only told her the facts and she was acting like a child. One of her many bad qualities, standing beside Sigrún even though her plan was disgustingly sacrificing.
It didn't take long for the night to sag and cover them in darkness. They met with Bjorn's allies and agreed to carry on with his plan. Bjorn and her agreed that if his plan of attack failed, they would do it by her. She already knew that at least half of them weren't going to agree to hers.
Before she knew it, she found herself in her tent. Thinking if she should go find the man that clearly owned her heart or if to let him come to her. Her stubbornness prevailed, and she laid on her bed. Once again, as always, whenever she was in a hard situation staring at her crown. The thing she was here for, the thing she was fighting for. The thing that cost her everything.
And when she was ready to just throw it away and beg the Gods for all of them to survive the flap of her tent opened.
*
It was the night of the third day that he caved. It didn't surprise him that he was the one walking to her. After all, she was a Queen. And it didn't surprise him that he found her in her tent looking at her crown again. Beautiful as always and proper. She didn't turn to him as if knowing that it was he who came crawling to her.
"I'm sorry." The words surprisingly came from her. A huffed laugh passed his lips.
He stepped before her, blocking the crown, before saying, "Never thought you would be the first one to say it." The roll of her eyes made him grin. His hands latched onto the cold metal before he threw it across the room.
"You need to stop staring at it." Her raised brow almost made him go pick it up. Yet he stood still trying his best to look confident. It was harder before her, then he thought.
"Truth is that you should tell it to others" —his hands cupped her face drawing it closer— "but I also understand that you trust Sigrún, so I will have to trust her too." A relieved sigh left her lips before he found himself stepping back, almost losing his balance. His woman threw herself at him.
He loved the feeling of her arms around him. It calmed him. But it clearly didn't soothe his manhood. Her eyes sparkled with mischievous, and his côck sprung into life, knowing it was his time. She tugged at his belt, pulling him on top of her.
His dick hard and aching ready to please her. Her breath hitting his skin made him shudder. The need to be inside her resilient. His hand slid over her smooth skin until he bunched up her skirts.
"Oh, Gods." The sigh was immediate, and he grinned. Sliding his hand over the smooth skin on her hip, he drew her closer. His fingers slid down until drawing his fingerprints over her aching flesh. Her thighs quivered, and sob tore through her. Her begging was compelling, and he couldn't deny her for long. He shed his own pants, pressing into her, so nothing was between their skin. His hardness slid over her thigh, and she moaned. Her hand slid over his muscled back until she gripped his shirt.
Hunger swelled inside him and the need to claim her too big to undo. And he surged forward. Slowly sliding inside her warm flesh that tightened around him. Her body melted against him, and a blissful sigh left her lips. His lips caught herse as he slowly thrust into her. He devoured her lips, and her moans urged him on. He was soft for the first time, slow, taking his time to bring her over the edge while calling his name. And once he spilled inside her, he breathed her name over her ear with satisfaction.
"You're perfect." She laughed breathlessly before reaching for his hand. He laid behind her with a sigh. Her body curled into him as her head rested on his chest. He growled when she moved from him. His hand reached for her, but she vehemently sat up and pulled the furs to cover herself. As if she couldn't sit naked.
"I prayed to the Gods to keep you safe." A small grin formed at his lips. His chest warmed. She cared for him. Not only to lay next to her in bed but to also stand next to her on the battlefield. His hand reached for her as he pulled her to him. He definitely wanted to change the subject.
His voice a mere whisper, "What did your advisors said about me fighting with you?" The role of her eyes made him smirk. They didn't agree.
"They think you will side with your brother" —her eyes stared deeply into his— "but I don't care if you do. You deserve a chance to prove yourself." Maybe if his brother didn't have the blood of her mother on his hands, Irvina would've let him save Haldor. Was their fear justified? Maybe she would let his brother fight for his life if he hadn't hurt her family so much.
The frown that reached his face couldn't be stopped. What would happen if he stood against his brother? Would he let him run, let himself be killed, or kill him. He knew that he had to kill his brother if he had the chance. For what Irvina had in plan would be worse than death.
