Page 41 of Ravager

“I have to go,” I said, my hand over my mouth, desperately trying to hold down the bile rising in my throat. “I don’t feel well.”

“You sure you don’t want to stay?” Rolf asked, watching me carefully. “I’d like you to stay…”

“I have to go,” I repeated, my voice shaky, on the verge of panic.

Rolf took his time thinking it over, and those thirty seconds felt like the longest of my life. Finally, he gave a reluctant nod to the men who held me, and they released their grip.

“Go then, my beauty. Just make sure you’re around for dinner. Roast pig tonight.”

The men snickered, and I quickly turned on my heel, fleeing the room. I didn’t know where I was going or what I would do, but I had to get away. I wanted to run as far as I could, to erase the images from my mind.

Once again, like always, I had nowhere to run.

Chapter 19

Erik

Erik was riding his horse across the moat, his animal skin shawls covered in a thin layer of snow, when he saw Cherine come stumbling out of the main gates. In seconds, he had leaped off his mount and was at her side, grabbing both her arms.

She shrieked at his contact, but once she realized it was him, she threw her arms around his neck and collapsed into him in a sobbing heap.

Erik’s first instinct was to kill Rolf. Without knowing what had happened to her, he knew Rolf had some part in it. He let her cry for a bit before he lowered his head and pressed the back of his hand to her cheek.

“Cherine, what happened?” he asked softly, he tried to get her to look at him, but her eyes were pinched shut as the tears spilled out of them.

“She’s…she’s dead!” she said between sobs, the horror and heartbreak apparent in her voice.

He ran his thumb underneath her eyes, catching her tears. “Who is dead?”

She just shook her head and leaned into him. “I don’t know… I caught him. He was with another woman. I don’t know who. But she’s dead now. He just…he just killed her right in front of my eyes!”

“Rolf?” he asked, though he knew the answer.

“Of course, Rolf,” she said, finally meeting his eyes. “Who else would do such a thing?”

Erik gave her a small but brief smile. “You know, you really should be careful saying such things about a duke.”

She gave him a wry look through her watery eyes. “He’s not a duke yet. And I know Rolf would be nothing but pleased by his reputation.”

He wanted nothing more than to scoop her up into her arms and plant kisses along her neck until she smiled again. But all the talk of Rolf being a duke reminded him that could never be an option.

“You’re correct in thinking that,” he said, straightening in order to put some distance between them. Her tears had subsided, and her breathing had returned to normal.

She frowned. “And just like that, you push me away again.”

He raised his brow at her. “I am merely reminding you of where you stand. Or, should I say, where I stand. You are Rolf’s, soon to be his duchess—at least whenever the king decides to show his merry little head. I am but a mere Viking.”

“You’re his second in command,” she pointed out. “All Rolf does is talk about you.”

He wondered how much of that was in a positive light. Did Rolf talk about Erik the Axe or Erik the Would-Be Deserter?

“What has he been saying?” he asked, taking the bait.

She smirked and wiped the sides of her face. “Oh, he says you’re a true savage, a total barbarian. He says you’re one of the worst.”

“He’s not lying,” Erik admitted. Naturally, Rolf would try and paint him in the worst light. It annoyed Erik that it bothered him, to care so much about what she thought of him. He was tempted to bring up the fact that her future husband had just brutally murdered an innocent woman in front of her, but she had finished crying, and he didn’t want to cause her anymore distress.

“He also said you wanted to sleep with me all that time, that you wanted to keep me for yourself. Was he lying?” She gazed at him, and he found his knees weak, lost in her eyes.