Page 94 of White Raven

“Many places.” His own tone was as low as mine.

The need to hear more nipped on my tongue, but I couldn’t get myself to dig deeper. Or maybe I knew where some had come from and was too afraid to hear it.

Washing one arm, I turned to the other, following the tattoos down it, rune marks in formations I had never seen before: diamond shapes in a warrior’s crest, a winged tribal design with horns, a raven carrying a skull with a sword, an Aegishjalmur symbol, web of Wyrd, tattoo of Vegvisir. I trailed over them, following the main vein in his forearm, the pull to the symbols healing crudely between his thumb and index finger, pulling me to his large hands.

“Won’t the king be mad you marked me?”

“Yes.”

“Will you get punished for it?”

“Yes.”

“Then why did you do it?”

He didn’t answer, his eyes tracking my hand, while I washed his body, the tension in the room thick and palpable. A current crackled around us like a live wire. The tip of my finger brushed over our matching ink on his hand. He sucked in sharply, his hand flexing, his nose flaring. My neck and chest beat with their own heartbeat, the power feeling sensual and beyond what it should. Beyond what should be normal.

My thumb ran over the diamond-shaped runes, kindling energy within my nerves, producing a soft moan from me.

“Fuck.” He snarled. His hand clutched my throat and dragged me in front of him, my ass pressing into his arousal, feeling the metal bar there. His tattoo stretched across my neck against mine. For a moment it was as though I went blind, my system overwhelmed, my back bowing in both pain and pleasure before he quickly adjusted his hand higher on my neck, the siege on me letting up. The intensity still pulsed in my skin, but I could breathe, feel like I was in my own body.

What the fuck was that?

Taking the rag from my grip, he dipped it in the warm water. My chest heaved when he drew up the soapy cloth, running it along my collarbone and over the tops of my breasts. A rumble echoed in my ear, his other hand dropping from my neck and yanking at the laces of my corset, slipping it down to my waist. The air in the room nipped at my skin, goose-pimpling my flesh.

Onyx pulled me in, his hand wiping the cloth over my stomach and coming up under my breasts. I clenched down on my teeth, not able to fight the strangled moan choking from my throat. He used the washrag to do the same to the other, before sliding down my sternum.

“How dirty are you?” he rumbled in my ear, squeezing the rag until trails of water dripped under my skirt. My lips parted, my hips opening, my body frozen in desire and fear. I wouldn’t answer. I couldn’t. I was too afraid of my response.

He scoffed, like he heard my thoughts. “What I thought.” His tattooed hand went back to my throat, yanking my head back. “You are not in my league, little rabbit.” His mouth grazed my ear, his voice hoarse with venom. “I would eat you alive. You have no idea what I am capable of, how dark I can get. I’d tear you apart, use your blood as a lubricant while I devour your heart without a thought.” Both arms pulled me painfully tight against him.

“You want to ride my dick, kanin. I’ll gladly oblige, but you are nothing more than a thrall. One pleasing her master.” His thumb pushed down harder on my neck, stirring the fight in me, his words slicing across my gut.

“Get off,” I spat, wiggling against him.

“I can’t wait until I’m free of you.” The scruff of his beard scratched against my temple. “Where I don’t fucking feel you anymore,” he said this so quietly, I almost didn’t hear him.

His thumb scraped over the runes on my neck, sparks jolting through my body. He grunted, shoving me away, his shoulders curled like he was either ready to attack or ready to run.

“You’ll ride with Bjørn tomorrow.” He grabbed the clothes left for him and slammed back out of the room.

I stood in the middle, my bodice hanging off my hips, skin flushed. I clutched the fresh nightgown to me, covering my chest, swallowing back a sob.

It wasn’t just the shame; it was the twisted part of me that wished he wouldn’t have given me an option. Pushed me until I broke. Took away the last moral fiber I had left in my body and forced me into the seedy darkness with him.

CHAPTER 21

“Why are there no Night Ravens called Ruth?” Bjørn directed his joke to the group. The groans from Renyx and Brynn rolled back to us in unison, while Sven actually looked to be contemplating.

“Because they are Ruthless . . .” Bjørn’s laugh thundered against my back, Sven joining him, snickering at the silly riddle.

“Please stop.” Brynn dropped her head forward, her mid-length hair tied back in a ponytail. “I beg you. I will give you five marks for you to shut up.”

“You offered me five marks two hours ago. My price has gone up since.”

“I’ll give you ten,” Renyx grumbled, rubbing at his head, his puffy eye a deep shade of purple and blue.

“I can’t be bought. Annoying you guys has no price on it.”