Page 12 of Hungry Like a Wolf (Vikings Rock #3)

C armel sat beside the central mast huddled in her cloak. She closed her eyes and prayed for deliverance from the awful quandary in which she’d found herself. It seemed she was just lurching from one to another right now.

The Vikings rowed at a steady pace, the constant clunk and splash a rhythm that moved the boat. As they rowed, they sang in a language she didn’t understand.

With her eyes closed, she imagined her castle at this time of year. The tiny, blue flowers would be blooming, and the chicken coop full of fluffy, yellow chicks. Out in the field, hares would gamble, leaping into the air and standing up on their back legs to box one another.

Spring was usually her favorite time of year, a season when God truly showed His creative side.

“Here.”

She didn’t look up at the sound of Ravn’s voice.

“You need to drink.”

“I’m not thirsty.”

“Doesn’t matter. If you get dry, you’ll feel sicker.”

“I don’t feel sick.”

“Good, now drink.” He thrust a mug at her. Several drips sloshed onto her tunic.

With a frown, she brushed the drips away and took the drink. She had a sip. Ale.

“More.”

She took several gulps then wiped the back of her hand over her mouth. “Happy now?”

“ Ja .” He set the mug aside. “Come over here.”

“No.”

“I want to show you something.”

“There is nothing to see except water.” She pulled her knees up and hooked her arms around them, staring at her boots.

“There is. The sea is alive.”

She pursed her lips. With every second that passed, she was traveling farther from home, farther from her mother, brother, and the memory of her father.

“You can sulk like an annoying little girl or you can make the most of your situation,” he said, cupping her chin and forcing her to look up at him. “Which is it to be?” His blue eyes flashed as he stared at her.

“A situation that is not of my choosing.” She held his eye contact.

“Which is all part of life’s rich path.” He paused. “Wouldn’t your god want you to be gracious about the path you find yourself upon?”

“What do you know of my God?”

“Very little.” He reached for her hands, taking them in his big, warm ones, and pulled her to standing. “But I’m sure he’d want you to see this.”

“See what?”

“Come up here.” He tugged her toward the front of the boat, stepping over barrels and blankets and past a cage holding clucking chickens. It was hard to walk on a narrow boat that was being swished along by sturdy rowers, even if the sea was mercifully calm.

“Stand here,” Ravn said, slotting her next to the neck of the big serpent that decorated the prow. “And hold on.”

She did as instructed, looping one arm around the wood, the surface carved to resemble scales.

He stood close behind her, his chest to her back and pointed over her right shoulder. He smelled of ale and leather and chestnut soap. “Out there, look.”

“I can’t see anything.” She shielded her eyes from the glare of the sun. “Only water, which is what I expected.”

“No, look.” A hint of excitement laced his voice.

She searched the surface. All she could see was the reflection of the sky and the two fluffy, white clouds floating in it. “There is nothing there.”

“Wait,” he whispered, his breath warm on her temple. “They’ll show themselves in a moment.”

“What will?” Her heart rate quickened.

He said nothing.

“What is under the water?” Was it a monster? An ugly sea beast? A great, big, ferocious fish that would eat them up with mean jaws and sharp teeth?

“Ravn?” She swallowed tightly as her imagination ramped up. “I’m scared. What is it?”

He slid his thick arm around her waist, holding her to him. “Don’t be scared.”

She gripped his hard forearm and leaned back against him, glad of his support when her knees felt a little weak.

“Look! There!” He pointed forward. “Can you see?”

The surface had been breached several times, white froth and ripples spreading out in great rings.

“No… I… Oh… What is that?”

A creature had leaped from the water. Gray, sleek, and shiny, it was as long as a person with bright eyes and a mouth shaped almost like a smile. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. She knew for sure it wasn’t a seal. Not that shape.

“Did you see it?” he asked, squeezing her closer and his body warming hers. “It is beautiful, ja ?”

“Aye, it is…but…but what is it?” She’d never seen anything like it, not in real life or in a tapestry or piece of artwork.

“A delfin and…there are more…over there.”

It was true. There were more delfins. Three, four, five… They were skimming the surface of the water, their smooth bodies breaching then dipping under. Another leaped out, apparently just for the joy of it. Its intelligent gaze was set on them before hitting the sea again.

“You have seen them before?” she asked.

“ Ja , many times, but I could never get bored. I could watch them all day.”

“I never knew such a thing existed.”

“The ocean is a magical place.” His mouth was against her as he spoke. “Full of surprises and wonder. You just have to open your eyes to see the gifts it can give you.”

“They are a gift from God.” She stared in awe as the delfins came closer still, seeming to look up at her as she stood watching them skim through the water.

“Today, they are my gift to you, my beautiful princess.”

She turned to look at him. He kept his arm around her, holding her close. “What did you just say?”

“I said they are my gift to you…” He lowered his face. “My beautiful princess.”

“That is what I thought you said.” She pressed her hands onto his chest. “But why speak that way? I am just a thrall, am I not?”

She saw something new flash in his eyes.

Desire. Need. Want. Her breath hitched and for the first time, she realized why he’d brought her on this journey.

It wasn’t to be his slave, or a mother to his son, and it certainly wasn’t to save Tillicoulty.

It was because he wanted her to be his woman.

Whether that was to be his wife and queen or his whore, she wasn’t sure.

“Because you are beautiful,” he said. “And beauty deserves beauty.”

“You lied.”

“About what?” He raised his eyebrows.

“You acted as though you were doing your brother a favor by taking me away, but it suits you, doesn’t it?”

“Go on…” His lips twitched as though holding in a smile.

“I’m not just going to be a mother to your son, am I?”

“You can be whatever you want to be.” He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“I want to be a princess to my people, to live in my castle.”

“That can’t happen. You must accept your new life.”

“And if I can’t?”

“You will. I’ll make damn sure of it. You’ll be happy too.” He dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers.

His beard tickled. His lips were warm and soft and he tasted slightly salty. Carmel knew she should pull away, push him away, but she stayed frozen in place as he gently kissed her. After a few moments, his tongue peeked between her lips and stroked against hers. Still, she didn’t stop him.

But although she was deathly still, her heart raced, her stomach clenched, and a tremble traveled down her spine, taking heat with it to between her legs.

This was her first kiss and never in a million years could she have predicted it would be with a wild Viking on his longboat as he stole her away to new lands.

He pulled back and cupped her face with one warm hand. Studied her eyes as if trying to gauge her response to his boldness.

“My mother would have you hanged for that,” she managed, then she swiped her tongue over her bottom lip to retrieve his flavor.

“She’d have to catch me first.” He chuckled. “But if she did, I’d consider my fate worth it for a kiss with you.”

“Don’t do it again.”

“Why not? You didn’t like it?”

“I am an unwed maiden and as such, I am off-limits to all affections from men…and that includes you.” She pulled away, surprised that he let her unpeel from his embrace. “You should remember that, King Ravn.”

There was no smart reply, no disagreement, but she felt the heat of his gaze as she made her way past the rowers and sat back down beside the mast. Once again, she hugged her knees and pulled her hood up, losing herself in a dark, little cave.

But when she closed her eyes, all she could think of was his lips on hers, the feel of his arms surrounding her like a great fortress wall that would keep her safe.

She knew what happened between married men and women—she had a married friend at court who had been happy to fill her in one evening after some potent fortified wine. But still, Carmel struggled to imagine the act, and imagining it with a man like Ravn was impossible.

Or was it?

An image of him chopping wood with his torso naked came to mind. His strength and vigor was almost divine. She wondered what he’d be like without any clothes. With his cock thick and erect, as her friend had described it would be when aroused and ready for the marital bed.

A shiver snaked up through her belly and seemed to tug at her nipples. These were not the thoughts of a good Christian woman. She should be ashamed of herself.

She was ashamed of herself.

*

They traveled for three weeks, stopping at land twice to restock the longboat with fresh water, mead, and food. Each time, Carmel stayed aboard and didn’t speak to anyone. She just waited while Ravn and the crew bartered in their native tongue.

She’d stayed distant from Ravn, barely speaking to him, not wanting to put herself in a position where he could kiss her again. She might be a long way from a church, but God could still see her.

As she’d sat being gently rocked, her grief gripped her in its mean fist. Tears fell for her father, for the young men who’d fallen around him.

Her anger at Haakon rose and fell like a series of waves.

They’d attacked Tillicoulty, and they’d gotten more than they’d bargained for. Whose fault was that?

Her mother’s face hovered before her. Her father’s also. Would she ever see her brother again? Perhaps when he was a grown man, he would come and find her. If she survived that long.