Chapter 28

28

H is plan was insanity—pure madness—and had more holes than a sieve, but it was all he had, and Hakon was desperate. The old sagas told of the insane, reckless, dangerous things orcs did when suffering with unrequited mate-bonds, and he understood them all.

Hoisting the rope higher on his shoulder, he slipped around the east side of the castle, craning his neck to spot the third-floor balcony of Aislinn's solar. The night was a dark one, the moon merely a sliver, leaving the shadows deep and inky despite the puddles of light from the tall torches lit throughout the courtyard.

He couldn't be too careful. In fact, it'd be smarter to give this whole asinine scheme up entirely. But he needed to see his mate.

It was more than the angry beast rumbling in his chest.

It was more than the aching loneliness carving his heart in two.

Something was happening. Something had changed.

Dundúran Castle was already mired in tension before Baron Bayard and his men arrived. Now, with almost double the knights in the barracks but half unfamiliar and loyal to the baron, a sense of fear had begun to permeate the very stones. Maids kept their heads down and hurried from task to task, not stopping long enough to be harassed by the visiting knights. The stables were overwhelmed, and the kitchens ran at all hours, the ovens never allowed to cool.

No one could quite understand it. Bayard's knights felt more like an occupying army than the reinforcements Captain Aodhan and Aislinn both claimed them to be. The strain was evident in both of them, covert, unhappy looks passing between them.

As far as any staff knew, no word had come about Lord Merrick or Jerrod and his mercenaries, so why the sudden presence of Bayard—with so many armed knights?

Hakon couldn't shake the feeling that danger was closing in around Aislinn, and he wouldn't stand for it. He had to see her.

Kneeling on the cobblestones, he gave the hand sign for Wülf to sit. The mutt did, looking up at him dutifully as Hakon relayed more signs, instructing him to return to their room and wait.

Hakon intended for the block he'd tied to Wülf to make as much noise as possible along the way.

Giving the signal to go, Hakon stood. Wülf grumbled, rising to his feet and shaking out his coat. With a canine huff, the dog started out through the dark, the block clattering behind him.

Hakon just needed a few moments of distraction. And to charm a good bone from Hugh as a reward.

Letting loose the rope, he swung the grappling hook he'd filched from the armory, gaining momentum until it swung in a wide loop. He let it fly, hand hovering over the slithering rope.

The hook caught between two rails of the balcony. With a testing tug, Hakon secured the rope around himself, made a loop for his foot, and heaved himself up.

Hand over hand, he climbed.

His beast rumbled with impatience and hope, thinking soon, soon they'd see her.

He climbed faster when the stones of the railing whined under his weight.

Sweat beaded down his neck as hand over hand, leg up, hand over hand, he made the third level.

Hoisting himself over the rail, Hakon pulled the rope up behind him and listened.

The east courtyard below was silent. No alarm had been raised. He didn't even hear the block Wülf dragged behind him.

Flaring his nostrils, he dragged in as many scents as he could before turning to the set of arched doors leading into her solar. From what he could smell, it was only Aislinn in her room. It pleased a visceral, instinctual part of him that it was only female scents that came from his mate's rooms, and the only one other than his mate's was Fia's, and it wasn't fresh.

He tried the knob and—it was locked.

Biting down on his frustration, he peered through the leaded panes into the solar.

The room was dim, the fine fabrics of the drapes and rugs and tapestries absorbing the meager light that flickered from a half-dozen candles across the room. It was enough, though, for his orcish eyes to see Aislinn bent over a writing desk, hurriedly scratching at a piece of parchment.

Just the sight of her soothed his unruly beast a little.

With a knuckle, Hakon rapped on the windowpane gently.

Aislinn jumped in her seat, startled eyes looking about the room. He rapped again, drawing her gaze and—

His heart sank into his stomach.

He caught the glint of tears in those wide eyes.

She blinked at him in surprise, and he realized his big hulking form must look threatening, a dark mass come from the shadows to tap at her door.

"Aislinn," he murmured, not sure she could hear, but her name tasted right on his tongue. "Please open the door."

She stood slowly, taking a few cautious steps before hurrying to the doors. The lock clicked open, and Hakon hastened inside, shutting and locking the doors behind him.

For a long moment, they just stared at each other.

Her solar wasn't warm but wasn't cool either, the fire in the hearth banked for the night. Candles flickered about the room and one lantern burned low. Despite the late hour, she was still in her gown for the day, her hair still set with pins.

Something's wrong. He could smell it in her scent, the salt from her tears burning his tongue, and could see it in her posture, as if a small breeze would topple her.

When she finally opened those perfect lips to speak, it was to tell him, "You can't be here."

Hakon tossed the rope to the floor and closed the distance to her. Taking her face between his hands, he said, "I had to see you."

"If someone sees…" Fresh tears gathered at her lashes, making Hakon go cold. "Bayard can't know."

"Fuck Bayard," he growled. "What's he got to do with this? What's happened, vinya? "

She shook her head, still held between his hands, as tears spilled down her face. To his horror, her lip trembled, then her face crumpled. A sob wracked her, and Hakon hurried her back to her chair at the desk before she could slump to the floor.

He knelt before her, his soul shredded to see her tears. "Please, vinya, " he begged, "please don't cry." Hakon could withstand many things, but not her tears.

She shook her head again, burying her face in her hands.

He placed his hands gently in her lap, fingers aching to knead and soothe away her sadness, but he tried to keep still.

Her hands fell on his, damp from her tears, and for a horrible moment, he thought she meant to push him away.

Aislinn slipped forward off her seat into his arms. Hakon rocked back, taking her weight, and wrapped her up in his arms—just where she belonged.

A purr rattled to life in his chest as he tucked her tight to him, the vibration the only thing that kept him from shattering. Tears prickled at his own eyes to see her misery, and he gritted his tusks against his gums to keep in the roar of despair that clamored in his throat.

How dare anything make his mate cry?

Aislinn buried her face against his throat. He murmured soothing sounds into her hair, those tears branding him as they ran down his chest. Fates, he couldn't bear this.

But he did. For her, he bore her tears and hurts. He held her for a long while, offering his silent support.

When the tears began to slow and the sobs lost their strength, Hakon shifted her in his arms, holding her in one and wiping away her tears with a thumb.

"Ach, vinya, you break my heart," he said.

"I'm sorry," she sniffed, "there's just so much…"

"Will you tell me?"

Her throat bobbed on a swallow, and more tears spilled over her lashes, but she took a long, fortifying breath. Then, in halting words, she told him. Of Bayard's true reason for staying in Dundúran. Of her father's plight in the south. How even now she was drafting letters to the king and queen, as well as all her nobles to raise an army.

"I never thought—how has it come to this?"

Hakon couldn't answer, too consumed with rage.

Bayard was blackmailing her. Threatening her. Trying to claim that which wasn't his.

His purr deepened into a violent growl.

"Hakon…?"

"Where does he sleep, vinya? I will deal with this now."

Eyes wide, she clutched at his tunic. "No! You can't threaten him."

"I'm not going to threaten him." He was going to tear Bayard's head from his neck with his bare hands.

"No," she said again, more firmly. "I'm trying to solve this without violence. If his men suspect anything, they might…" She shook her head. "I just need time."

"He threatens you," Hakon hissed. "This is unacceptable. He should be in your dungeon."

Aislinn chuckled once without humor. "You sound like Captain Aodhan."

Good. Someone else had sense.

"Aislinn—"

"No." She tried to frown up at him, but it quickly dissolved back into watery despair. "Don't fight me, too."

"Never." He dropped his head to press kisses to her damp face. Her tears stung his lips, but he didn't care. "I am for you, vinya. Always. Tell me how to help you."

She cupped his face in her hand, her touch so achingly soft. "You can't."

"I don't accept that."

"There's nothing you can do. You're…" Just a blacksmith.

Hakon stiffened.

Straightening in his lap, Aislinn looked up at him in regret. "There's nothing to do but wait," she amended. "I need time."

"You would bargain with your hand. With your life ."

"Yes."

His lip curled in disdain. "It's too high a price."

He knew she agreed from the way her mouth thinned, but she said nothing.

Hakon's throat closed around all the demands he wanted to make. That she let him kill Bayard. That she come to him as she had before. That she be his and only his, politics be damned.

That she let him steal her into the night, never to look back.

They sat in their silent impasse, neither finding words.

His heart began to thump, the tie he felt to her, to the bond growing between them, tightening with tension. Distance had grown between them, the chasm wider with every moment, and he didn't know how to reach her.

What they had was new, fragile, and for the first time, he truly feared that it might not survive the winter.

But then, in the silence, more tears spilled from her eyes. Hopelessness pulled at her face as she murmured, "What if my father dies?"

Her lips peeled back across her teeth in a show of despair, and Hakon wouldn't allow it. He pulled her back into his arms, denying the distance.

This Hakon understood. Grief and how it chewed you up inside. Made all the worse by grieving for someone who wasn't yet gone. Hakon had watched his grandfather's passing inch closer, and no amount of pleading or denying had stalled it. For all his love and strength and wish for it not to be so, death had come. It always did, in its time.

He knew, though, that those weren't comforting words to hear. It wasn't what he'd wanted to hear in his grandfather's last hours, and it wasn't what he told his mate, either.

"He's strong," Hakon said instead, "it isn't his fate."

Tears garbled her words as she curled into him.

Hakon stood, cradling her close. She protested when he began to snuff the candles, insisting she needed to finish the letters.

"They'll keep."

The solar slowly plunged into darkness, Hakon keeping only the lantern lit as he carried it and her into her adjoining bedchamber.

The room was dominated by an ornately carved four-post bed. Heavy green curtains embroidered with pastoral scenes had been pulled back and tied to the posts, and a small mountain of pillows sat neatly at the head.

He set the lantern on the bedside table and her on the bed. Kneeling, he unlaced her boots and carefully pulled each foot free. She watched him with heavy-lidded eyes as his hands delved under her skirts to find and untie her stockings. The warm silk glided against his fingers as he pulled them down the curves of her legs.

"Morning will come, and you are strong enough to meet it."

Her face fell, and he feared more tears. Instead, she reached down to take his face in her hands. Her forehead met his, and in the warm darkness, they shared breath.

His heart ached for her and for all that was unsaid and unknown.

"I would do anything for you, vinya, " he couldn't help whispering. She had to know—had to see that all he was and would ever be was hers. Her birthright, the politics, none of it truly mattered. He wouldn't give her up—he couldn't.

Even if it meant stealing her away. He wouldn't let her burdens pile one atop the other until she buckled. If she wouldn't let him help her here, he would take matters into his own hands, for she was all that mattered. Her life, her safety. She may hate him for it, but she would be free.

With a sigh, she pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Can you take my mind off everything, at least for a night?"

He knew what she asked, and he couldn't stop the disappointment. Ask more of me, he wanted to demand. Take what's yours.

Hakon would make her understand. But for now, this he could easily give.

He took her lips in a claiming kiss, one that was not fast but not slow. He coaxed, he tempted, his hands running up her legs to tug her to her feet.

He spun her round to untie the laces of her stays. Her gown loosened, and he couldn't resist dropping kisses on the curve of her neck and shoulder as the fabric fell away. She tilted her head, giving him more access, and he trailed kisses up her neck to her ear, where he murmured, "I will give you everything, vinya. All you have to do is ask."

She shuddered under his hands, and he made quick work of the rest of her garments. When she stood naked before him, he had to stop and run his hands along the curves of her waist, feeling her perfection for himself.

Fates, she was too beautiful for words.

Her eyes were still damp, her expression so vulnerable it nearly broke him. He couldn't fall on her like the beast he felt like, not tonight.

Taking a step back, he toed off his boots and began pulling off his own layers as she turned down the bed.

He came for her again naked and didn't miss the almost shy way she looked him up and down. It'd been too long since he felt her skin against his, and he hissed with pleasure when she fitted herself against him.

He ran his hands along her back in light caresses, gentling himself for her.

When she would've climbed into the bed, he stopped her. She looked on with surprise as he laid himself on his back, cock bobbing against his belly in anticipation. But that would have to wait.

"Hold onto the headboard."

Her brows arched. She climbed in after him, throwing her leg over his waist to straddle him. He filled his hands with her backside and pulled her up his body.

"I want you on my tongue, vinya. Let me taste you."

A shuddering breath escaped her, and she stared at him a moment longer, as if to confirm that he was serious. He held her gaze as she slowly crawled her way up his body, hands kneading at her flanks. Her spun-gold hair fell around him in a sweet curtain as her face hovered above his.

When she bent for a kiss, he gave her a quick one before swatting her backside. "Other lips."

She gasped at his vulgarity before finally straightening. Hands on the headboard for balance, she placed her knees on either side of his head.

He wrapped his arms around her thighs, pulling her down to him. A hungry growl rumbled in his chest as her scent overwhelmed him. He could feel her heat on his lips and he hadn't even begun.

Smiling, he captured her gaze, relishing how she trembled with anticipation, her hair hanging about her face as she watched him.

He started with a swipe of his tongue from cunt to clitoris.

Aislinn gasped, nearly sitting upright, but he pinned her with his arms. His purr buzzed on his lips as he closed them around her clitoris, making her jerk, but he held her again, forcing her to take all he meant to give.

Hakon feasted.

His mouth moved in greedy strokes and slurps on her cunt, sucking and nipping at her as he gulped down her slick. She tasted primal, like spring rain and fresh earth and lightning strikes. He bathed himself in her, tongue flicking and circling and spearing inside to drink from the source.

Her middle quaked and her arms shook with the effort of holding herself up, but Hakon wouldn't relent. He gorged himself on her cunt, his hunger growing with every stroke of his tongue. His cock leaked spend along his belly, his bollocks pulsing with need, but he was too enamored of her to stop.

She filled her fist with his hair and tugged, urging him on. He purred loudly in pleasure, praising her with the noise and setting it against her clitoris.

Take your pleasure, take what's yours.

"Hakon—!" she gasped.

Her back arched, glorious hair thrown back as she came. The tendons of her neck stood out starkly against her throat, her mouth opening wide around a silent scream. Her hips rocked against his face until he was raw, chasing down every shred of pleasure, and it was glorious .

He held her up by the waist, feeling how her muscles shivered and contracted as she rode her peak. Fates, nothing compared to this. Not glory, not wealth. He could spend all his days just like this and be the happiest male who ever lived.

He felt the last of her pulsing orgasm with his tongue buried inside her.

Her arm dropped from the headboard, and she slumped back onto his chest.

Hakon lifted her to lay her out on the bed. The sight she made was a feast itself, and he indulged for a long while just devouring her with his gaze as he ran his hands up and down her quivering body.

Aislinn watched him with a small smile teasing at her lips, carding her fingers through his hair as he kissed up her body. She welcomed him into the cradle of her body, parting her thighs and reaching up to take his face in her hands, guiding it down to hers for a long, drugging kiss. The type of kiss that made a male forget his name and all vows of honor.

As his tongue tangled with hers, Hakon caught one of her hands and pulled it above her head. The other joined it, and he held hers in one of his. Pulling away from her kiss, he kept her gaze as he drew one of her legs around his hip.

"You've ruined me, vinya, " he said as he teased his cockhead against her entrance.

Aislinn moaned and arched in welcome.

He slid through her slick then inside with ease. Pushing inside her was like coming home, the hot give of her body so exquisite, it bordered on pain. It'd been too long since he'd had his mate, and sweat beaded down his spine with the effort it took not to shove inside and rut her mindlessly.

His control hung by a thread as he began to move, the sight of her laid out beneath him, hands above her head, breasts swaying in rhythm, pink cunt spread wide around him, nearly undid him.

What did was the way she looked at him, eyes gone soft and sultry, a smile teasing those plush lips. He wanted to kiss her everywhere every day in front of everyone. He wanted all to know she was his and he was hers. He wanted there to be no secrets, no distance, no obstacles. He needed her to be his with a savagery that stole his breath.

Nothing would stand in his way.

This brilliant, glorious female would be his in every way.

"Run away with me," he rumbled. The words slipped out, but he felt no regret.

Choose me.

Those lips parted, and her cunt clenched around him so perfectly. Hakon growled, unable to withstand it any longer.

He fell upon her, claiming her mouth as his hips thrust her into the bed. Her nipples pressed into his chest, hard points against his pebbling skin. Her hips rolled to meet his, an insatiable pace that lacked rhythm or finesse. They chased down their pleasure together, desperate and wild.

Hakon's crackled down his spine, and he burst.

He poured himself into his mate, his hopes and fears and desire. She writhed beneath him, meeting his every stroke, pulling everything from him and demanding more.

He gave it. He would always give her everything.

Bodies quaking, the tension snapped, and he was lost to the searing pleasure.

The mate-bond sang, thrumming like a second heartbeat.

Hakon gasped, easing down into his mate's arms as his body went lax. He kept most of his weight off of her, but the feeling of her beneath him, her body still trembling with aftershocks, was too wonderful.

He mumbled her name, pressing a lazy kiss to the side of her neck.

Her hand smoothed over his hair, and she turned her face to his ear.

"I can't," she whispered.