Chapter Thirteen

“Are you awake?”

Odaria opened her eyes at the sound of Rothgar’s voice. She had been dozing on and off for the last few hours. Last night after Rothgar had left, she had ranted and raged, struggling against the ropes that bound her to the bed. After several hours, she’d given up and cried herself to sleep.

She glanced at the window on the far side of the bedchamber. The sun crept over the horizon, bathing the room in faint shadows and purple-blue light.

Rothgar carried a wooden tray across the room and set it on the chest of drawers. She noticed the small green bottle, a pewter pitcher, and a bowl on the tray. “What is all that?”

“You will see.” He sat on the bed next to her and smoothed her hair away from her face. “I have been busy making preparations for today. It will be an important day for us, Odaria.”

“Untie me, vermin.” She writhed against the ropes. “I hate you. When I get free, I’ll—”

“You do not hate me, and you know it.” Rothgar yanked the bedclothes down, exposing her nude body.

“Cover me,” she screeched. “I’ll not have you lookin’ at me.”

“I intend to do more than look,” he said, chuckling.

She swallowed hard and gazed up at him. “What do you mean?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. She feared she knew what Rothgar intended. She was bound to the bed, helpless and naked. He could do anything he wanted to her and there was nothing she could do to stop him. Last night’s rage had left her weak and drained. Her powers were of no use to her now.

“I intend to learn the truth, witch. You claim to hate me, but I believe you love me.”

“Are you mad?”

“If you despise me, then anything I do to you will repulse you, not please you,” he teased. “I will use your own magic against you and see what happens. If you remain silent throughout my test, I’ll know that you truly hate me and I’ll grant you your freedom.”

He trailed his hand down her chest. “If, however, you cry out or make three sounds, it will prove you love me. Then you will stay with me and do my bidding. Agreed?”

She scowled at him. Had the fight with Karnik’s men dented his head? Rothgar would set her free if she kept quiet? That sounded easy, and playing along with his game could earn her her freedom.

“Aye. Do whatever it is you are going to do, but be quick about it. I warn you, nothing will change my mind. I still hate every bone in your body.”

Rothgar stood and walked to the chest of drawers. He picked up the green bottle and moved close to the bed. “Do you recognize this?”

She stared at the bottle in the dim light. It was her love potion. Rothgar must have gone back to the cairn and stolen it after he’d tied her up. “Put that down. ’Tis mine.”

“I know, witch. You used it on me, remember?” He leaned over her. “Now it’s my turn to bewitch you. Lie still.”

She gasped as Rothgar poured the spicy-scented potion onto her chest. “What are you doin’? Do not put that on me. ’Tis too much.”

Her heartbeat soared as Rothgar drizzled the oil across her breasts and down her belly. The thick liquid made her skin tingle and left a warm, pulsing sensation every place it touched. The heavy scent of it made her head swim.

“Now hush, Odaria. From this point on, you must keep silent. Remember how much you hate me. Focus on that instead of what I do to your sweet body.”

She held her breath as Rothgar rubbed the potion onto her breasts. He didn’t know what he was doing. A tiny dollop was enough to arouse a person into a lustful state. The amount Rothgar had poured on her would drive her mad with desire.

He massaged the oil into her skin, taking his time to toy with her rock-hard nipples. The potion made her skin hot, and her breasts ached. She closed her eyes as Rothgar trailed his wide hands down her belly. His palms felt heavy and warm, and she longed to feel them slide between her legs …

Dammit! She was falling under her own spell. Perhaps if she kept still and focused her mind on other thoughts, she could resist the potion. If she concentrated on something dull and didn’t think about how good it felt …

“Care to part your legs?”

She opened her eyes. Rothgar had reached her hips and was staring down at her naked body. She was about to speak, then remembered that she had to remain silent. If she uttered three sounds, Rothgar would win the wager. Her freedom was at stake, and she would remain quiet no matter what he did to her. She glared at him and remained still.

“As you wish. I’ll part them for you.”

Rothgar grasped her left ankle and opened her legs. She tried to kick him, but he grabbed her right ankle and held her legs fast. “Do you want me to tie them?”

She shook her head.

Rothgar released her legs and ran his hands across her tender folds. He dipped his fingers into the puddle of love potion that had pooled in the center of her belly, then slid a finger deep into her.

A searing heat flared inside her, and her hips jolted off the bed. The liquid fire coursed through her most intimate places, spreading its intense, sizzling desire. A moment later, the fire dulled and became a heavy throbbing. She closed her eyes and let the sensations wash over her. Her body was filled with a fiery lust like she’d never known before.

“Feel good?” Rothgar asked as he teased her with his finger.

She pursed her lips as her body quivered. As much as she wanted to resist the effects of the love potion, she knew it was futile. Her body was taking over with a will of its own, and she was becoming more and more lust-crazed. She arched her hips up to meet Rothgar’s finger as he slid it in and out of her.

“You are quite slick, Odaria, but still so quiet. Should I stop?”

She bent her knees, parting her legs wider, wanting, willing him to touch more of her aching flesh. Rothgar chuckled, and she ground herself against his hand. The wanton act gave her some small bit of relief from her maddening desire.

“You are very naughty, Odaria. Is this better?” Rothgar eased another finger inside her.

Her body jerked with a sudden spasm, and she bit her bottom lip as she strained and twisted against the ropes. Rothgar’s fingers moved faster, teasing her into a frenzy. The tension was too much to bear. “I canna take it,” she cried out, then clamped her mouth shut.

Rothgar withdrew his fingers and laughed. “That’s one. Twice more means you love me and are mine.”

She glared at him. What sort of game was he playing? He had deliberately tortured her into speaking. Although part of her wanted to be furious with him, her body longed for his touch. Despite her best efforts, she was helpless to resist him.

“Would you like me to keep touching you?”

She nodded, praying that he’d end the torment and sate her lust.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked, bringing his hand near her.

She nodded again.

Rothgar pulled his hand away, then stood and walked to the chest of drawers. “But nay, I should not touch you again. I would not wish to make you hate me any more than you do,” he said with mock concern in his voice.

She kicked her feet in frustration. How dare he taunt her!

“Will not talk? Then I will speak for us.” He took the small pitcher and bowl off the tray and returned to the bed. “Did I ever tell you what I like to eat in the morning?”

She rolled her eyes. Now what sort of game was this? Who cared what he liked to eat? Her body was on fire with a burning need to be ravaged, and all he cared about was food. May the gods forgive her, but as soon as she was set free, she’d strip the breeches off the first man she found and jump on him.

“Honey and berries. They are quite good together. I thought you might like some as well.”

Rothgar tipped the pewter pitcher over her left breast and poured honey onto her nipple. She writhed against the ropes and watched as he covered her other breast with the sticky honey.

“I would not want you to suffer in discomfort. Mayhap this will soothe the fire in your loins.”

She twitched as Rothgar coated her with the rest of the honey. What was he doing? She swallowed hard and closed her eyes as he rubbed the liquid into her. A second later, she relaxed a little. The honey did seem to cool the potion.

“Feel better?”

She nodded but kept her eyes closed. She felt ashamed to be seen lying bound naked to the bed, coated with honey and longing to be filled. How could she have such crude and lustful feelings? And where had Rothgar learned how to perform these brazen acts? He seemed to be enjoying himself, and he was taking his time teasing her.

She slowed her breathing and cleared her mind. She should not give in to these wicked thoughts; she should be remembering how Rothgar had betrayed her. He’d struck a deal with her sworn enemy to trade her for his stupid cousin. All she had to do was remain quiet while Rothgar toyed with her. After a while, he’d give up and leave her alone. As soon as she was free, she’d—

“And now for the berries. I prefer them dipped in honey.”

Her eyes flew open as he rolled a berry across her honey-coated breast. The berry felt ice cold against her skin, and a shiver ran up her spine. Rothgar ate the berry and grinned. What sort of twisted pleasures did Norsemen practice in their bedchambers?

“Gut, but I want more.”

She lay still as Rothgar covered her breasts with the chilly berries. The honey kept them from rolling off onto the bed. Rothgar worked his way down her stomach, leaving a trail of berries from her breasts to her lower belly. When he reached her privates, he stopped. His gaze locked onto hers, and he smirked.

“I can put a great many down here.”

She raised her head and watched him as he placed the berries between her legs. Each time he touched her tender places, a surge of heat flared through her. She dropped her head back onto the feather pillow.

What in the name of the gods was Rothgar doing? Had the love potion taken him over as well? Only a spellbound man would think of such wicked things to do with food. Nay, the potion hadn’t caused Rothgar to lose his senses—he had brought the honey and berries into the room with him. He had been planning to do this even before he’d poured the love potion onto her.

“That’s the last of the berries.” He bent over her. “Still hate me?”

She turned her head away. She didn’t trust herself to look at him.

“You have been a good girl, Odaria. Now, if you remain quiet while I finish, I’ll believe that you truly do hate me.”

Rothgar covered her breast with his mouth. She shivered as he suckled her while eating the berries. Her entire body tingled, and she caught herself just before she cried out.

“This one tastes good,” he said, flicking his tongue across her breast and lapping at the honey. “Let me try the other.”

Her head swam with delight as he licked and sucked her. She lay as still as she could, holding her breath and willing herself to keep silent.

Rothgar raised his head and gazed into her eyes. “I’ve had enough of those,” he said, as he moved off her and knelt at the foot of the bed. “And now for the rest.” He leaned forward and wedged her legs apart with his shoulders. “Be still, sweet witch,” he said, positioning his head between her thighs.

Rothgar’s wet tongue touched her, and she bounced off the bed as if she’d been struck by lightning. His tongue trailed a small circle on her honey-soaked nub, and she stopped resisting. It felt warm and thick and …

“By the stars,” she cried out as his hot mouth enveloped her. She tried to close her legs, but Rothgar’s broad shoulders kept them spread wide open. She was helpless to resist this torture … and for that, she was glad.

His lips and tongue explored her while he devoured her honey-laden juices. Her heart thundered in her chest so hard she thought she’d die. The room spun as he licked and probed her, and she started to feel lightheaded. She’d do anything to make him stop … just long enough so she could rest a moment and catch her breath.

She writhed beneath him, arching herself away from his eager mouth for a second. Panting and dizzy, she barely had time to blink before his hot tongue found her womanly folds again.

Rothgar’s tongue entered her partway, and she stopped fighting. Why should she refuse him? After all, he was doing wonderfully pleasurable things to her. Why hadn’t he licked her like this yesterday? Is this what Norsemen did with their wives?

She pressed her hips down toward him. Rothgar slipped two fingers inside her. He stroked her, then worked his long fingers in and out. Her hips bucked a little as he swirled his tongue in small circles. She lay back on the bed and smiled. Obviously Rothgar enjoyed this as much as she did. Had he done this to Gretta? If so, had she enjoyed it?

A tingling sensation grew deep inside her. Her heart raced out of control, and her skin prickled. Panicked, she strained against the ropes, desperate to make Rothgar stop.

Her body tensed and burned as she twisted against him. She whipped her head from side to side, clenching her jaw to keep from screaming. What was happening to her? How had something so blissful become a searing anguish? Her body broke out in a sweat as the odd feeling intensified.

Rothgar’s fingers slid in deeper. His tongue twirled faster against her, making her even dizzier. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, she whimpered and cried out. “Stop, or I shall die.”

Rothgar pulled away and wiped his mouth and beard on the bedclothes. “Odaria, my pet. That was three.” He smiled and lay on top of her. She bucked against him and felt his penis pressing against her through his breeches. The hard feel of it sparked her lust again. Damn that love potion. It worked its effects on her still.

“You do not hate me, do you?” he said, grinning.

She looked up at him, her chest heaving and her lower body pounding with an uncontrollable lust. “Nay, I could never hate you.” She wrapped her legs around Rothgar’s hips, and his eyes widened. “Give me what I need,” she begged.

“Are you certain? You said you hated me and did not wish for me to—”

She raised her head and kissed him deep. He tasted like honey mixed with something salty. As soon as his tongue entered her mouth, she broke the kiss. “You started this fire deep in me. Now sate it,” she demanded.

He laughed. “Now you know how it feels to be tricked with a love potion.” He placed his hand between their lower bodies and unfastened his breeches. “I’ll give you what you need, witch, and more.”

She groaned as he thrust himself into her with one swift stroke. Her hands were bound to the headboard, and the only way she could show him how much she needed him was with her body. As Rothgar pumped into her, she wrapped her legs high around his hips and urged him on.

His hairy chest brushed against her tender nipples, sending a shiver through her. She glanced up and saw that his chest hair was matted with gooey honey mixed with sweat.

She crossed her ankles around Rothgar’s buttocks and raised her hips higher. His solid cock pounded into her hard and fast, and that was exactly what she wanted.

“You feel so good in me. Keep going … like that,” she whispered in his ear.

Rothgar obliged, pumping into her as she bucked her hips faster. The tingling feeling built inside her again, and she whimpered. Whatever was happening to her, she wasn’t afraid of it now. Rothgar grunted and slipped in deeper. The tiny bed bounced and creaked as they rocked in unison.

Her body flared with a wet heat each time Rothgar’s thick rod filled her. Suddenly, her world exploded in waves of pleasure. She squealed with delight and pulled hard against the ropes as she twisted and shuddered.

“Oh, Rothgar … Yes, yes, it feels so good. Don’t stop.”

A moment later, Rothgar’s hips jutted against hers. He grunted and called out her name as he spilled his juices into her.

As the odd tingling faded, she lay still, panting and covered with sweat. After a minute, she opened her eyes. Rothgar was grinning down at her.

“Still hate me?” he said as he withdrew and covered himself.

“Nay, I love you. Every bit of you.” She tried to catch her breath. “What was that? I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

“The peak of lust. A climax. A sure sign you have been pleasured properly,” he said as he untied her wrists. He rolled onto his side and draped his arm across her hip.

She cuddled against him and kissed the side of his neck. “Aye, that I have. I hope I didna do anything wrong or make too much noise. Where did you learn such wicked tricks?”

“I told you, I know many ways to pleasure a woman. And I do like hearing your shouts and moans, Odaria. It proves you have been sated deeply. Most women do not enjoy lovemaking.”

She bit her bottom lip. There was something on her mind, and she decided to risk asking her questions, even if she might not like the answers. “Did you give those special kisses to your wife? Was she more pleasurable than me?”

Rothgar kissed her shoulder. “Nay. Gretta hardly ever let me near her. She treated lovemaking as a wifely duty. To her, it was a chore and no different than churning butter or milking the goats. When I insisted on relations, she would lie with her skirts raised, as still as a stone. I tried to kiss her between the legs once, thinking it would spark her lust, but she wouldn’t have any of it.”

Rothgar sighed and continued. “She took no pleasure from my touches. No matter what I tried—easing into her slow and gentle or stroking her with my hand before I entered—she made no sound. She kept quiet the entire time and asked, ‘Are you finished?’ once I’d spent myself. After a while, I didn’t try to be romantic or arouse her in new ways. I finished inside her as quick as I could, knowing she was lying there hating the feel of my body in hers.”

She felt sorry for him. How sad that his wife refused to let him touch her and didn’t enjoy his affections. It was no wonder why they had only one child.

“That is why the love potion was created, to spark life into relations between a man and wife.” She licked her lips and glanced into his eyes. “Even though Gretta didna enjoy your passions, did you love her?”

Rothgar was silent for a few seconds. “Ja, I did. Very much. I never realized how much I loved her until she died.”

Odaria turned her head. She didn’t want Rothgar to see the hurt in her eyes. If she didn’t control herself, she’d start crying. No matter what she did, she would never be able to replace Gretta—or Rothgar’s son.

Rothgar sat up and climbed out of bed. “I must go see about readying the ships.” He bent down and kissed her cheek. “Rest here until I return for you,” he said as he fastened his breeches.

“Aye. I’ll be waiting for you.”

She watched Rothgar leave and heard him lock the door from the outside. She rolled over and sighed. Her body was coated in a layer of sticky honey, and her secret place twinged with each heartbeat. She smiled. It was the best feeling she’d ever known. For the first time in her life, she felt sated and loved, as a woman should.

Her mind wandered as she nestled under the bedclothes. Why hadn’t Gretta enjoyed Rothgar’s lovemaking? Perhaps she was shy or didn’t love Rothgar in return. She was glad he had told her about Gretta. Even if she wasn’t his wife—

A thought struck her, and she remembered something Rothgar had said on the cliff the night before. No wife of mine will do herself in. Did that mean Rothgar would marry her when they reached his village? Was this bout of lovemaking a test to see if they would be compatible in the bedchamber? If so, she had certainly passed.

She recalled her vision of her swollen belly and being married to Rothgar. It was going to come to pass after all. Had Rothgar already planted the child in her? Mayhap. He had filled her completely, and now his seed lay inside her. She rubbed her lower belly and giggled. Everything was perfect now.

Rothgar was going to ready the ship and come for her. Then they would sail away. He hadn’t said a word about Brennan or Orvind. They couldn’t possibly matter to him now. Surely after the intimate lovemaking they had shared, Rothgar would never dream of giving her to Brennan.

A sudden chill washed over her, and she shivered beneath the blankets. He wouldn’t … would he?

Rothgar opened the bedchamber door and peered in. Odaria was asleep on her side. He entered the room and set the bucket of warm water on the floor. Taking care not to wake her, he quietly closed the door behind him. Odaria deserved a few extra minutes of blissful sleep before he spun her world upside down.

He stepped next to the bed and bowed his head. Today he’d have to do something he dreaded with all his heart. But he had no choice. It must be done. All the preparations had been made, and his plan was ready. But would it work? So many things could go wrong. One false move and …

He didn’t even want to consider the consequences. He clutched the Mjollnir pendant around his neck and whispered a prayer. “Blessed gods, aid me in my endeavor, and I will be eternally grateful.”

He reached down and shook Odaria’s shoulder. “Odaria, wake up.”

She blinked awake and looked up at him. “How long was I sleeping?”

He ignored her question and held out the clothes he had draped over his arm. “I dried your dress and boots, and I brought you some hot water to bathe with. Rise and wash while it is still warm.”

She glanced at the window. “Now? The sun has barely risen.” She patted the space in the bed beside her. “Come rest for a few moments. We could hide under the blankets and—”

“There is no time for that.” He tossed her red dress and boots onto the foot of the bed. “We must leave.”

“Fine.” She yawned. “As you wish. I shall only need a moment to ready myself.”

He averted his gaze from Odaria’s naked body as she climbed out of bed and began washing. Although it was cowardly of him, he couldn’t bear to face her knowing what he was about to do. He feared his heart would betray him and he’d weaken. Now more than ever, he needed to be strong and do what he must—even though it would make Odaria start hating him all over again.

“I’m most grateful for the warm water and soap, Rothgar. I fear I’m a mess. I’m coated in honey, and I must look a fright. When do we leave for the ship?”

He bent down and picked up a length of rope off the floor. It was the same rope he’d used to tie Odaria to the bed last night. His shoulders sagged. Everything did come full circle in life. Five days ago, he had found Odaria with her hands bound, terrified and tortured by Brennan. Now he was returning her to the same fate.

He looked at her. She had finished washing and was pulling her dress over her head. He waited for her to put on her boots before he spoke. “We are not going to the ship. We are going with Brennan to fetch Orvind. That was the deal I made.”

“What?” Odaria clutched his arm and turned him to her. “Rothgar, you canna. We made love. What about—?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? You are not one bit sorry.”

As he had expected, she reached out to slap him. He caught her wrist in one hand.

“Release me.” She struggled against him as he grabbed her other wrist and bound her hands together in front of her.

“Forgive me, Odaria, but I must do this.” He glanced into her eyes, hoping she’d find a way to see the truth and understand what he was doing. If she could read his thoughts, he hoped she would do so now. “Our lovemaking had nothing to do with the pact I made with Brennan. I merely wanted to hear you admit you love me.”

“Why?” Her green eyes welled with tears. “Why would you care if you are about to send me to my grave? Do you know what Brennan will do to me? He shall set me ablaze.”

He dragged her across the room. “I must bring Orvind home,” he snapped. “I cannot control what Brennan does to you.”

She kicked him in the thigh. “I hate you. I truly do. You knew all along you would give me to Brennan, and yet you came in here with my love potion. You used me, and now you are sending me to my death. What kind of a man are you? I’ll be burned alive, just like your wife. Is that what you wish? How will it feel to know you allowed me to suffer the same fate Gretta did?”

He whirled around. “Quiet! Speak again, and I will gag you.”

He closed his eyes. Odaria was right. How could he do this? He was torn between his loyalty and duty to his uncle and his love for Odaria.

“If you have any mercy, I beseech you, don’t do this. Not to me, Rothgar,” Odaria begged, her voice barely a whisper. “I swear, anything you ask of me, I’ll do.”

He took a deep breath to steady his nerves. Odaria wasn’t making this easy on him. “May the gods forgive me for what I’m about to do,” he muttered as he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

Odaria screamed as he eased them through the doorway. “Let me go.” She beat her fists against his back and fought to free herself from his grip.

“Save your hatred for Brennan. I haven’t time to listen to you.”

Odaria squirmed and kicked as Rothgar carried her downstairs into the main room of the gathering hall. How could he betray her again? Why had she been such a damn fool? She never should have believed him when he said that he’d protect her and care for her.

“Set me free. The gods shall curse you for the rest of your wretched life for this. I’ll make it so your—”

“I see the witch is ready for the pyre.”

Odaria looked toward the sound of Brennan’s voice. Brennan sat in a wooden chair with his hands tied behind his back. Haraldur and Sig stood next to the chair, guarding him. Brennan’s left eye had been blackened, and his nose and lips were swollen and caked with blood. A blood-soaked bandage was wrapped around his right hand. Someone had already given him part of the punishment he rightly deserved.

She glared at him. “I’ll see you burn alongside me, murderer.”

Brennan grinned through his cracked lips. “How does it feel, knowing that your Norseman has taken his fill of your poisonous flesh and is now turning you over to me?”

“Go to hell.”

“Quiet!” Rothgar set her down and pointed at Brennan. “Keep your lips closed unless you wish another crack in the mouth. And you.” Rothgar turned to her. “Save your curses and spells. They will not work on me, little witch. Your powers are drained. I purposefully tired you out this morning. Best store up your strength for later.”

“You do not tell me what to do, sea scum.”

Although she was furious at Rothgar and wished revenge on Brennan, she didn’t feel the familiar surge of power rushing through her. Rothgar was right. Their lovemaking had wilted her strength. Despite the urge to set her rage free and hurl objects, she felt weak and helpless.

Brennan chuckled. “Have you lost your powers, witch? You shall be easy prey for the pyre.”

She darted around Rothgar and kicked Brennan hard in the shin. He cried out and rose from the chair, only to be grabbed and shoved back down by Sig.

Rothgar spun around. “What did I just say, Odaria? Have you no ears?”

She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “’Twas no spell or curse, merely a swift kick.” For a second, she thought she saw a smile flicker across Rothgar’s bearded face. He rolled his eyes and grabbed the rope binding her hands.

“It is time we leave.”

Without protest, she let Rothgar escort her out of the gathering hall. If she stayed quiet and waited for the right moment, she might be able to escape and …

A commotion behind her interrupted her thoughts. She looked in time to see Haraldur shove Brennan out of the gathering hall. Brennan tripped and fell to the ground. She laughed. “What’s wrong, Brennan? Forget how to walk?”

Brennan spit in her direction as Sig grabbed him by his ripped shirt and hauled him to his feet. “We shall see how you laugh when I light the fire beneath you,” Brennan snarled.

Rothgar stepped between them. “If either of you speak again, I will have you both gagged.” He pushed Brennan ahead of him. “Lead us to Orvind. If I suspect a trick, you know what will happen to you. Keep your word, and you will have Odaria.”

Brennan nodded and led them out of the village. “The place is not far. I’m looking forward to making our trade. The witch shall be destroyed before your ships have sailed.”

Her stomach lurched, and she glanced at Rothgar, praying for a sign of hope. He wasn’t going to let Brennan have her, was he? To her horror, he grinned and nodded.

“When I have Orvind, she is yours, Brennan.” He laughed. “In some ways, she is more trouble than she’s worth.”

Her mouth dropped open, and she stared at Rothgar in disbelief. How could he say such cruel things about her? He was escorting her to a horrible death, and he didn’t even care. She kicked a stone ahead of her on the path and growled under her breath.

No matter what happened this morning, she’d never give Rothgar the satisfaction of seeing her cry or beg for his help again. If she stood any chance of escaping Brennan’s clutches, she’d have to rely on her own wits.