‘What will we do now?’ she asked.
He cupped her cheek, tilting it up to meet her gaze. ‘We have unfinished business with Feann.’
‘You swore an oath,’ she reminded him.
‘I swore not to kill him. That does not mean he will not face justice.’
‘You will do nothing to endanger yourself,’ she insisted. ‘We must consult the brehons. They will pass judgement, and Feann will accept their wisdom.’
‘Will he?’ He leaned down to kiss her throat, and she threaded her hands in his hair. ‘You seem convinced that all will go according to your plans.’
‘It will,’ she answered. She saw no choice but to believe it. She knew Feann would be angry with her for choosing Alarr, but she didn’t care. Her Lochlannach had captured more than her body—he had stolen her heart.
He kissed her deeply, his hands moving over her. He laid her back against one of the large piles of grain sacks, so that he would not have to lean down. She welcomed the familiar rush of need and the rise of desire. Somehow, he knew exactly how to touch her until she craved his lovemaking.
‘I will have my answers from Feann, Breanne.’
‘You will.’ She trembled as he caressed her, and whispered, ‘Then we will go back to your lands in Maerr.’
Though she was afraid of leaving Éireann, she realised that if she stayed, she would be pressured into obeying the commands of Feann or Treasa. Here, she had hardly any freedom. The idea of starting over was a welcome thought, to travel with Alarr to a place where no one would use her for their own gain. Her life would be her own again. And while she was afraid of the unknown, she knew she would be happier with him than if she were left behind.
He kept his eyes locked upon her. ‘You would give up your home for me?’
She lifted her hips to meet him, cupping his face between her hands. ‘I will go wherever you go.’ Her emotions grew heavy as he kissed her again, his tongue tangled with hers. She was starting to love this man. And though it made her vulnerable, she realised that she wanted a home with him and children.
Alarr murmured against her mouth, ‘We will travel back to Killcobar in a few more days. Then we will take our ship back from Styr and return to Maerr.’
A tremor caught her as he continued to stroke her with his fingers. She came apart, her breathing a sharp moan as her body embraced him. Liquid desire pulsed in a fierce eruption that made her shake, crying out as the pleasure climbed higher. His tenderness was her undoing, and she could hardly breathe from the sudden release.
‘You’ve bewitched me,’ he admitted, a lazy smile coming over his mouth. ‘I cannot stop touching you.’
‘I don’t want you to stop,’ she whispered, pulling his mouth to hers and kissing him deeply. He invaded her mouth, his tongue tangling with hers until she felt the delicious echo in her womb.
Alarr remained within her for a few more moments before he said, ‘While I would love to stay here with you, we need to rejoin the others.’
‘At least until tonight,’ she promised, stroking back his hair. She intended to give him the same pleasure he had given to her, until he could no longer bear it.
When they emerged from the shelter, she saw her mother staring at them. The look in Treasa’s eyes held regret, as if her plans had shattered apart. And though Breanne understood her mother’s desires, it was not her task to fulfil them. She had made the decision to leave her old life behind and begin anew.
And no one would stand in her way.
Alarr rode back towards Killcobar with Breanne and the six escorts sent by Iasan, the chief of Dún Bolg. Along the way, he thought of the older woman’s discontent and her last words to him. ‘Breanne is giving up her birthright and her kingdom for you. What kind of a life will she have in Maerr? Will she be queen there, as she would have been in Clonagh?’
‘I will provide everything she needs,’ he’d said. ‘It will be enough.’ But in truth, he didn’t know if he could keep that vow. After he and his brothers had been declared outlaws and sent away, he knew not if he had a home, much less if he would survive the fight with Feann. If he died in battle, Breanne would be forced to remain with her foster father. It bothered him, for she didn’t deserve a life where Feann would tell her who to marry. She was fighting for her freedom, and she deserved to choose her own path.
Were it possible, and if his life were different, he might have asked Breanne to marry him. The thought of waking beside her and watching her grow round with an unborn child was a welcome vision.
You cannot wed her, a voice inside him warned. You don’t deserve happiness with her.
As one of the survivors of the massacre, he owed it to Gilla and Sigurd to seek vengeance. He could not set aside the past or even dream of a future until he had settled that promise.
Although he had decided to keep his vow to Breanne, he fully intended to wound Feann—even at the risk to his own life. He knew that the moment he struck down the king, the soldiers would attack. While they would not harm Breanne, Alarr knew better than to believe he could escape unscathed. And if Rurik was still there, his brother would face the same threat. More likely, his brother would fight at his side and die at the hands of their enemy.
He needed to send Rurik away. His brother would not stand by and let him face the battle alone. But Alarr didn’t want him to die because of the choices he’d made. Somehow, he had to convince Rurik to go, in order
