I entered the hall with Queen Sunniva, feeling quite glad for her presence. There were some of the other noblewomen there as well though I remembered only a few names. I barely took notice of them since my husband stood at the table as we entered, his eyes looking straight into me. His gaze was all I was able to focus upon.
I felt as though I hadn’t laid eyes on him in years though it had only been a few days. He had a nearly full beard now, obviously refusing to shave himself in my absence. There were also dark circles beneath his eyes as though he had not slept well for many nights.
Regardless of my monthly time, my place at dinner was still at his side. While others conversed and ate, I did my best to focus on my food and drink and not on the strange feelings inside of me. I felt compelled to reach over and touch Branford on his face and to feel his hands on me. I wanted to press my lips to his, and I wanted to lie beneath him and be surrounded in his secure warmth.
Branford shifted slightly in his seat, and I felt the length of his thigh against mine. Having been three nights without his closeness, the touch of his warm body against mine—even through our clothing—sent a shiver down my back that seemed to lodge itself between my thighs. I took in a quick breath and held it, hoping no one else at the table had noticed.
I wrapped my fingers around my cup of wine and took a short drink of it to hide the blush I assumed was present on my cheeks. Sunniva began to speak to King Camden regarding the kitchen staff and how they had outdone themselves for the evening meal. I could not concentrate on the conversation, and to make matters worse—or better—Branford placed his hand on my thigh as he leaned close to me.
“I miss you,” he said, his hot breath dancing over the shell of my ear. “Our bed is cold at night without you to warm me.”
I glanced around the table, but no one seemed to pay us any heed. I felt the tip of his nose as it just barely touched the line of my neck. I could hear his long intake of breath.
“I miss you, too,” I confessed as I blushed.
“That is a very good thing,” Branford murmured against my ear. “If you do not return soon, I am afraid I will go mad.”
“You are strong,” I said as I glanced at him. He narrowed his eyes, and I could see his lips smash together. “It is only another day…maybe two…”
“Two days?” Branford growled and sat back against his chair. His grip on my thigh tightened. “I want you now.”
Though the upper part of his body leaned away from me, his hand continued to rub against my leg. Slowly, it crept farther up until his smallest finger pushed at that spot between my legs. I bit down on my lip to keep from crying out and alerting all around us to what Branford was doing, hidden from their view beneath the table. His finger began to rub me in a circle, and my thighs clasped together, but that only served to hold his hand tightly against me.
“Branford…” I whispered as I glanced toward him. His eyes were intense and filled with need. He leaned close to my ear again, careful not to touch where others could see.
“Be silent,” he said in a dark, husky voice, “lest we be noticed.”
He ran his hand down my leg then back up again, his finger sliding down between my legs and dancing lightly over the central spot of pleasure he knew so well. Though his touch was igniting my body in a way I had missed terribly, I also wanted him to stop. At least, I thought I wanted him to stop. I knew I should want him to stop. I looked up at those around us, most of whom were heavily engaged in their own conversations, and tried to control the panic rising in my chest.
As I glanced around the table, my gaze fell to King Camden, who was staring straight at me with his head cocked slightly to one side. I felt heat cover my skin immediately, and I froze. His gaze moved slowly to Branford, and the king’s brows rose in question. I heard Branford mumble under his breath though I could not make out what he said, and then his hand slipped quickly from my leg to rest in his own lap.
“You had best be ready within two days,” Branford murmured a little louder. “If you are not, I’ll still come and take you, customs be damned.”
I did not reply but glanced at our king again, surprised to find a slight smirk on his lips as he turned to the nobleman at his side and spoke of his hunting trip with Branford. He did not look toward me again that night.
*****
Janet assisted me in carrying my things back to the rooms I shared with Branford, including the shirt I had made for him, the baldric with the embroidered coat of arms, and a few other items I had started but not finished. They were all sealed away in a plain, woven basket so Branford would not see them just yet.
When I opened the door and walked into the morning room, I saw Branford leaning against the open window and looking over the castle grounds. He turned at the sound, and I could almost feel the relief wash over him as he began to step toward me. He stopped short of reaching out for me, hesitating a little. I reached up slowly and ran my hand over his cheek, nearly in full beard now. The texture was soft on his face but quickly grew rough on the skin of his neck.
“Get out,” Branford said. He did not even glance at Janet, and though his voice was not overly loud, the menace behind it was evident. I saw Janet out of the corner of my eye as she bowed slightly and left our rooms quickly
As soon as the door was closed, Branford was on me.
He grasped the sides of my face as his lips crashed to mine. As I began to lose breath, he pulled back, his eyes dark and his chest rising and falling. He crouched down, picked me up in his arms, and carried me to our bed.
It seemed only a moment later that I was pressed against the mattress, naked, my husband’s body covering me in his warmth as he moved steadily inside of me. He slid his mouth over mine, and his hands explored my body thoroughly until I was panting and crying out in pleasure. With his eyes closed and his head tilted toward the heavens, I felt the warmth of his seed fill me before he collapsed on top of me and then rolled us both quickly to our sides. He found my neck with his mouth, and he sucked at my skin as he held me close to him.
“I always seem to be begging your forgiveness for my haste,” he said quietly.
“There is no reason,” I told him. I reached around to the back of his neck and then up through his hair. I held his head against my shoulder.
“I could not bear it any longer,” Branford whispered into my ear, “and I am going to make sure I never have to endure that again!”
I smiled and turned my head to kiss the top of his. Branford rose up on his elbow and looked into my face.
“I do not believe that is completely within your control,” I told him.
“I will take you every night,” Branford said. His tone was determined, and his words definitely not to be questioned. “At least once in the day as well.”
“You have done that anyway,” I said to him. I smashed my lips together, trying not to smile too broadly, for I knew he was quite serious.
“More often, then,” he said with raised brows—daring me to contradict his plan. He used his fingers to trace from my shoulder, across my collarbones, and over my breast. He cupped it for a moment before running his hand over my stomach and then back up my arm. He brushed his fingers over my lips and up the edge of my jaw. He ran the tip of one finger down my nose. It seemed as though he was exploring each and every part of me to make sure he had not forgotten anything while we were apart.
I placed my hand against his chest, feeling the strong and steady beat under my palm. Like Branford, I also wanted to remember how he felt in my hands, and I traced every lined muscle on his chest and stomach while he drew circles around my breasts with his fingertip and kissed a trail across my shoulder. He leaned across me, his mouth sucking at one of my nipples while his fingers tickled across my side. I squirmed against the feeling, and his hand gripped my hip as he sat up and looked me in the eyes. He pulled sharply with his hand, pushing our hips firmly together.
“Any time I want,” Branford said with a scowl.
I tilted my he
ad to the side, raising my eyebrows just a little as I looked at him. I could have sworn his lower lip was protruding like a child’s whose toy had been taken away.
“My wife,” Branford said. Moving swiftly, he leaned over me and quickly nipped at my lips with his. His gaze darted away from mine, and for a moment, I thought I could detect a slight blush under his tanned cheeks. He looked back at me with his half smile and dancing eyes. I thought he would speak, but instead, he closed his eyes briefly before looking at me again, his head shaking back and forth subtly.
The combination of his strength, his gentleness, and his obvious need for me was overwhelming.
I brushed over the edge of his bearded jaw with my fingers. I could not wait for it to be morning again so I could shave him properly and see the gratitude in his eyes when he ran his fingers over his smooth face. I could not wait to give him his tea or prepare his breakfast. I could not wait to hold his arm as we walked through the gardens, and I could not wait until tomorrow night when he would bring me back here and overtake me with his flesh—both inside and out.
My stomach seemed to roll over inside of me, and for a moment, I could not even breathe. I felt my heart pounding in my chest as his eyes continued to stare down at me. I felt the warmth of his gaze covering my body. I felt safe and secure in his strength and in knowing I belonged to him and that he was mine. I wanted nothing more than to spend my days doing whatever I could to make him happy and content in his life and to spend my nights filled by him—giving myself to him whenever he needed me.
And that moment was when I knew I loved him.
Chapter 22—Dutifully Sacrifice
The grass in the field flicked against my legs as Branford led me to a low wooden building I had seen before only from our bedroom window. My fingers were around his right arm, and wrapped around his left wrist was a thin leather cord. At the end of the cord was Amarra, walking smoothly next to Branford with her eyes turned up to his. She matched his pace perfectly and kept her focus on my husband as if waiting for his command.
We entered the field near the edge of the woods, and Branford whistled long and loud. Within only a few moments, four large, reddish-brown dogs were barreling toward us. I took a step closer to my husband, pushing my side against his. I felt his lips touch the top of my head but only briefly. As the dogs neared, he dropped down close to Amarra and slowly removed the leather strap from around her neck.
“Will she not run away?” I asked.
“Not if she understands this is her pack and that she will be cared for here,” Branford replied. “She will have no reason to go anywhere else.”
I watched the other four dogs as they came near the bitch. I giggled at their apparently normal greetings of sniffing and licking. They walked around each other, and Amarra spun around in a circle as well, paying most attention to the largest of the four male dogs.
“Argo is the oldest and largest,” Branford said as he pointed to the one I had been watching. His coat was darker red than the others, and when he shook his head, his flopping ears turned inside out, giving him a comic appearance. “The others look to him when I am not here. Next is Atlas, who could probably be the leader of the pack if he could be bothered, but he is usually too busy chasing noises in the woods. The two smaller ones are Helo and Major.”
Argo was intent on making the other pack members keep their distance from Amarra, their new member. He only positioned himself between her and the other dogs at first but then became more aggressive. He growled a little as the others came closer and even snapped at one of the younger dogs, which made me jump.
“He just wants to make sure the others know she belongs to him,” Branford informed me.
“Does he have to be so…so…cruel about it?”
“Cruel?” Branford chuckled. He moved closer behind me, and his hands brushed lightly over my arms.
“He snaps at the others before they even get close,” I said.
“Does he?”
“Sometimes.”
“He will likely do it again,” Branford surmised. “He can be quite jealous.”
Branford tightened his grip on my shoulders as he leaned close and whispered in my ear. I was instantly reminded of the first time he took me to meet Romero and our conversation in the stables. There he had also pulled me back against his chest and spoke gently into my ear—like he was now.
“Sometimes he is afraid he may lose her,” he said, his voice so soft I could only barely hear him. He circled my waist with his arm. “When he thinks of what his life would be without her now, he can be irrational.”
“She…she would never look to another,” I replied as I turned my cheek to touch his. “This is her home now, and she wants only him.”
“She hardly knows him.”
“She has learned much in a short time,” I told him. I turned my head further so I could see his eyes, his heavy brows pulled down over them. I reached up to touch his smooth cheek. “She knows him quite well.”
“Do I still frighten you?” he asked, dropping the pretense.
“No,” I answered him. “I know you would not hurt me.”
“Alexandra,” he murmured as he pulled me closer to his body. “You have been…truly…I cannot…”
He sighed and took a slight step back, separating us enough for him to turn me to face him. He cupped the side of my face as he stared into my eyes.
“Alexandra, I—”
Behind us, the sound of someone clearing his throat halted Branford’s words. Branford sighed, seeming more exasperated than angry as he turned around. Both Dunstan and Colin were there, their heads bowed slightly. Colin fidgeted from one foot to the other.
“My apologies, sire,” Dunstan said with a nod. “There is a matter that…needs your attention.”
Branford narrowed his eyes at the young man, and for a moment, they seemed to be having an unspoken conversation.
“Of course,” he finally answered. “Alexandra, forgive me. Colin will take you back to our rooms.”
I looked from Branford to Dunstan and tried not to show too much concern as I nodded, and Colin—the young man who guarded me when Dunstan was otherwise occupied—led me back to the castle. Janet greeted me and asked if I was ready for a meal, but I had no appetite. Dunstan’s sudden appearance had me on edge, and I didn’t know what to think of it.
Branford never liked it when we were interrupted, yet he had not been at all angry with Dunstan when he approached us. His uncharacteristic acceptance of the intrusion was too out of character for my moody husband. It worried me, but I could not think of anything Dunstan would have had to say that was so urgent.
A knock at the door startled me out of my thoughts, and I quickly went through the archway into the morning room to open it. My eyes went wide when I opened the door to find King Camden standing on the other side.
As far as I knew, he had not come to our rooms since Branford had brought me from Hadebrand. I had no idea what might have prompted his visit now. In my shock, I simply stood with my hand on the door and stared at him until he cleared his throat and raised his brows at me.
“Alexandra,” he said, “are you quite all right?”
“Yes, my king,” I replied automatically. Then I realized I was still standing there gawking at him. “Oh! My king! I am sorry! Please, come in.”
“Thank you.”
“Branford is not here,” I told him. “He stayed behind with his dogs…”
King Camden walked into the room and just looked at me, a wry grin on his face. I realized how silly I sounded and felt my cheeks flush. I closed the door softly.
“May I fix you some tea?” I finally asked.
“No, thank you, Alexandra,” King Camden said. “I really just came to speak with you.”
Speak with me? What would the king wish to discuss with me? I felt my chest tighten in panic.
“Of course, my king,” I said softly.
“Alexandra,” King Camden said with a slight shake of his head, “we
are behind closed doors, and you are married to my adopted son. You may refer to me as Camden.”
I was not sure if I could, but I still nodded to him.
“In fact, it is about Branford I wished to speak,” he said.
“About Branford?” I echoed.
“Yes,” he said, and his mouth turned up into a wide grin. I had not noticed the resemblance between the king and my husband before, but their smiles were definitely the same. “And about what you have done to him.”
My breath hitched in my throat, and I felt panic tighten my limbs. What had I done to Branford that would cause the king of all of Silverhelm to come to our rooms? Was it about Janet and bringing her back here? Was it about Branford touching me during the time of isolation?
“My king?” I whispered, for they were the only words I could form.
“It is not a bad thing, Alexandra,” King Camden said softly. “Quite the contrary, in fact.”
“What have I done to Branford?” I asked, truly confused now.
“I have never seen him so taken with another human being,” Camden said softly. “His horse, yes, and even his dogs, but never a person—never a woman. He has not allowed himself to feel for anyone in so long…”
The king’s voice trailed off, and I was not sure if I should respond to him or if I should keep quiet.
“And you care for him too, do you not?”
His bright blue eyes were so intense as he looked at me, for a moment, I could not respond.
“Yes, my king.” I took a deep breath and corrected myself. “Camden.”
He laughed through his nose, another trait I likened to Branford, and just as quickly as his nephew often did, his mood changed and his eyes darkened.
“He is haunted by his past,” Camden said. “Do you realize this?”
“Yes, my king.”