Read Online Love's Fury (Viking's Fury #1) by Violetta Rand - Free Book Online
Authors: Violetta Rand
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his thumb and fingers. “Weigh carefully what you say next.” Defiance glittered in those solemn eyes. And for a fleeting moment, he considered setting her free. The wench wasn’t worth the trouble. But pride ruled Konal’s heart. Failure wasn’t an option. He’d tame this wilding if it was the last thing he ever did. “We leave tonight.”
Perhaps he should sell her. Better to sleep peacefully than worry if she’d slit his throat in the middle of the night.
With a sigh he stood, the anguish on her face not escaping his attention. “For tonight,” he observed, “your maidenhead is safe.” More undeserved consideration for a thankless girl.
“If we leave, I won’t get the chance to make sure my father gets a Christian burial.”
“It’s a waste of time.”
She glared up at him.
He studied her thoughtfully. From the thick lashes framing her almond-shaped eyes to her slim ankles. Nothing displeased him. Not even her sharp tongue. That could be dealt with. What he couldn’t ignore was the sheer revulsion she’d shown whenever he touched her. He recognized that hollow look. Bitterness. “The wood and paper inside the scriptorium fueled a fire so hot none of the bodies were recovered.”
She laughed. “Don’t lie, milord. I know your prince buried them in a mass grave.”
He looked at her coldly. “Nothing satisfies you.” Before he did something he’d regret, Konal stepped around her, leaving her on the landing.
*
Silvia buried her face in her hands. Konal didn’t deny her accusation. Her beloved father had been thrown in a hole on unconsecrated ground. What afterlife awaited him? Endless wandering on the outskirts of Heaven and Hades, unworthy of either place? Dwelling on thoughts that did nothing but torment her, would not change her situation. But the memories were still too fresh to forget. After her sire thrust those scrolls into her arms, gasping for shallow breaths, she should have dragged him to the passage—braved the smoke and fire—attempted some sort of escape. A shiver went through her body as new tears blinded her.
After several moments, she climbed to her feet and wobbled abovestairs. The few dresses she owned were sprawled across her bed, her slippers already packed. Feeling her throat constrict, she collapsed on her destroyed mattress. The sobs came in long, violent waves. Why has God forsaken us? She rolled onto her side, staring at the ceiling. Father Andrew told her with unmitigated confidence that God does not abandon the innocent. No , she thought, He just lets them suffer and die.
Sorrow uncoiled inside her stomach and she cried out again, unashamed of her sorrow. She tucked her knees under her chin. Nothing could have prepared her for this. Even her chest ached. “I want my father.” There must be something she could do to find relief.
Before she had a chance to decide, the door opened. No. Please don’t come in. Her bedchamber remained her only sanctuary, the one place she could seek shelter from the Danes. She closed her eyes, pretending she didn’t hear Konal.
“ Valkyries ikke gråte, slåss de. ” His voice was deep and comforting.
What did he mean by Valkyries don’t weep, they fight? Konal swept her off the bed, cradling her. When she looked at him, his eyes reflected her own sadness. This wasn’t the same man who abandoned her on the stairs a few minutes ago. Too exhausted to care, her head rolled against his chest.
“ La meg trøste deg, vise deg en side som du ikke visste eksisterte. Jeg føler din smerte. Har mistet kjære kan tider. Tårer er den samme i alle språk. ”
She didn’t want to find comfort in his arms.
He whisked across the room, then settled in the same chair he’d thrashed her on yesterday. His big, warm hands began messaging her all over. Reminding her just where and with whom she kept company. And though she despised him, the more Konal caressed her, the harder it was to hate him.
Chapter Eight
A n hour later, still
Perhaps he should sell her. Better to sleep peacefully than worry if she’d slit his throat in the middle of the night.
With a sigh he stood, the anguish on her face not escaping his attention. “For tonight,” he observed, “your maidenhead is safe.” More undeserved consideration for a thankless girl.
“If we leave, I won’t get the chance to make sure my father gets a Christian burial.”
“It’s a waste of time.”
She glared up at him.
He studied her thoughtfully. From the thick lashes framing her almond-shaped eyes to her slim ankles. Nothing displeased him. Not even her sharp tongue. That could be dealt with. What he couldn’t ignore was the sheer revulsion she’d shown whenever he touched her. He recognized that hollow look. Bitterness. “The wood and paper inside the scriptorium fueled a fire so hot none of the bodies were recovered.”
She laughed. “Don’t lie, milord. I know your prince buried them in a mass grave.”
He looked at her coldly. “Nothing satisfies you.” Before he did something he’d regret, Konal stepped around her, leaving her on the landing.
*
Silvia buried her face in her hands. Konal didn’t deny her accusation. Her beloved father had been thrown in a hole on unconsecrated ground. What afterlife awaited him? Endless wandering on the outskirts of Heaven and Hades, unworthy of either place? Dwelling on thoughts that did nothing but torment her, would not change her situation. But the memories were still too fresh to forget. After her sire thrust those scrolls into her arms, gasping for shallow breaths, she should have dragged him to the passage—braved the smoke and fire—attempted some sort of escape. A shiver went through her body as new tears blinded her.
After several moments, she climbed to her feet and wobbled abovestairs. The few dresses she owned were sprawled across her bed, her slippers already packed. Feeling her throat constrict, she collapsed on her destroyed mattress. The sobs came in long, violent waves. Why has God forsaken us? She rolled onto her side, staring at the ceiling. Father Andrew told her with unmitigated confidence that God does not abandon the innocent. No , she thought, He just lets them suffer and die.
Sorrow uncoiled inside her stomach and she cried out again, unashamed of her sorrow. She tucked her knees under her chin. Nothing could have prepared her for this. Even her chest ached. “I want my father.” There must be something she could do to find relief.
Before she had a chance to decide, the door opened. No. Please don’t come in. Her bedchamber remained her only sanctuary, the one place she could seek shelter from the Danes. She closed her eyes, pretending she didn’t hear Konal.
“ Valkyries ikke gråte, slåss de. ” His voice was deep and comforting.
What did he mean by Valkyries don’t weep, they fight? Konal swept her off the bed, cradling her. When she looked at him, his eyes reflected her own sadness. This wasn’t the same man who abandoned her on the stairs a few minutes ago. Too exhausted to care, her head rolled against his chest.
“ La meg trøste deg, vise deg en side som du ikke visste eksisterte. Jeg føler din smerte. Har mistet kjære kan tider. Tårer er den samme i alle språk. ”
She didn’t want to find comfort in his arms.
He whisked across the room, then settled in the same chair he’d thrashed her on yesterday. His big, warm hands began messaging her all over. Reminding her just where and with whom she kept company. And though she despised him, the more Konal caressed her, the harder it was to hate him.
Chapter Eight
A n hour later, still
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