Her mouth opened but no words came out. She only shook her head.

She doesn’t know what to say. He felt a pang of empathy.

“I needed ye!” There was urgency in his soft words. “I needed me wife!”

“I-I don’t believe you.”

“I looked fer ye! I knew ye were grievin’ too. I couldn’t imagine yer pain. I tried ta find ye, ta console ye.”

Mouth a thin line she shook her head emphatically. “No, no, no.”

“Come o’er here. Ta me.” He ordered. Pointing to the floor before him.

“No!”

“Let’s ge’ this done.”

“Do not touch me!”

“Why? Because ye may react ta me touch?”

Because it might illicit some emotion from that black heart of yours?

“I will most certainly react!” She retorted.

“Then do so.” He dismissed.

Do what you must.

Boots thumping over the wood, he strode to her.

She lurched to the side to escape around him, but he caught her by a bicep.

She jerked to pull away from him but could not break his viselike grip. She yelled in panic. “Don’t touch me!”

“I am goin’ ta touch ye.” His head lowered dangerously. “A lot. Ye’re me wife. Whether ye still wanna be or no’.”

“I’m not!”

“We’ve no’ agreed ta end our union.” He snapped.

“We can remedy that!”

“We are still wed. An’ dunnot go thinkin’ me will agree to it, now tha’ me finally found ye, either!”

“I’ll get parchmentwork done annulling it.”

“I’d ne’er pu’ me seal ta it.” He said in a low voice. “Sides,” he tugged her close against him. “We consumma’ed it plenty of times…”

“You truly are a barbarian!”

“Unfortunately, fer ye, I’m a well-educated one. Now.”

“Why did ye come after me?” She cried looking frantically around her.

Trying to buy time.

“I was hired to. I didna know ye were The Raven or me woulda come fer ye long ago.”

“The Hell you didn’t!”

“The Hell I did!” He roared back. Gnashing his teeth.

“What are you going to do?” She nearly quaked in his grip.

Realizing she’s pushed me too far when I’m already ordered to divvy out punishment. He sighed.

Catching both her shoulders he murmured. “I’m sorry, Me Love.”

He yanked her across his lap and tossed up her skirts. Baring a perfectly rounded derriere. He applied the first strike and heard her scream more in shock than pain. “Count them.”

“You can rot!” She shouted. Trying to cover her exposed cheeks.

Pinning her hands to the side against his midsection. He delivered another hit.

Little blue and purple flowers fell from her hair.

His hand came down again.

More flowers fell.

And yet it came down again. Until there were no flowers left. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed his hair was escaping the tether to fall down around his face.

After the third slap of his palm, she’d gone silent and he was very afraid she was crying.

I vowed to protect her.

In a sick way, this is protecting her from the king’s recompense. But it still sickened him.

“This isna fer thievin’ from the king.” He said. “This is fer leaving me ta grieve the loss of me son alone. Ta worry fer ye. Ta fear wha’ may be happening ta a woman as beautiful as ye.” He realized the final two whacks had grown rougher.

Harder than I intended. Setting her to her feet resulted in her clasping her hands to her burning rear.

“I hate you.” She grated through gritted teeth.

Deathly calm.

She means it right now.

“I’m beginning ta fear tha’ was always the case, Me Dear.” Emotion choked him as he reached out to feel a tress of her soft hair. Resisting the urge to help her adjust her clothing. To kiss away her humiliation and hurt.

Feelings I caused.

As she stood there shaking with rage, he walked to his bag and withdrew two matching gold circlets. He pushed his over his crown and around his hair. Placing her smaller matching one over hers as well.

Reminding her we’re still mated under Ardae law. Whether she likes it or not.

Pain and regret filled him. More than I’d have thought possible.

“If you’d not gone, perhaps Liam would still be alive.”

“How could ye say tha’ ta me?” He leapt to his feet. “I was hunting ta pu’ food on our table! Do ye garner joy from me pain?” He shouted at her as he towered over her.

Chin jutting, she glowered up at him, fearlessly.

“No, ye aren’t. But ye’re certainly doin’ it apurpose.”

“You should have never left.” She grumbled. White knuckled fists at her sides.

“Would that I could take it back!” He shook his head at her. “I’m not certain ye’re even the same woman me loved.”

“I’m not!” She turned from him and shot across the room. Heading for the window slit.

Fearing she’d jump he caught up to her in two long strides. Snagging her upper arms, he caught her waist and hoisted her off her feet.

She fought him, but he held fast. “Sweetheart, stop. Stop.”

This is nonsense.

“I’ll not stay here!”

“Do ye think ta will sprout wings, do ye now?”

“I don’t care.”

She’d rather die then be confronted with what happened. It struck him then how deeply she must’ve suffered this whole time. Thinking she’d failed as a mom and I’d not forgive her.

None of that is truth.

“Ye aren’t a lass ta give up so easily.”

She sobbed. Body jerking with each sound.

He gently turned her into his arms and cradled the back of her head. Lowering to scoop her up, so she could rest her face against his chest. She’s smaller than I remembered.

She’d lost some weight.

Disappointing. He’d rather enjoyed of her rounded curves after having their little one. And many occasions he’d lifted her before and tested her healthy weight.

She’s not healthy now.

An image of him doing so as they danced in their narrow cottage, flashed through his mind. Countless times his large hands had framed the narrow width of her waist to lift her a couple feet, so she’d fit snugly against him as he swung her about.

Or the times, she’d leapt on the rickety wooden chair and leaned forward. Jesting that she was ready for her welcome home kiss.

He’d laughed, grabbing her up to taste her lips.

She’d softened against him, warming to his touch.

And I’d enjoyed every minute of it.

When he’d found she was pregnant with their child he’d been elated. Rubbing her growing belly and carefully lowering to her level rather than trying to lift her and risk injuring her.

Now here she is. Warm and soft in his arms. He held her aloft, feet dangling.

A hand to his shoulder, as her face folded into his chest.

He sensed, more than saw, the quiet tears streaming his face.

This close to the fire her hair was a softer shade. Nearly auburn rather than the rich black it looked in shadows.

It’s her.

This is my wife. The soft woman that only he got to know.

“Did me do this?” The words escaped his mouth impulsively. “Did me make ye like this?” He feared her answer.

Her face slowly turned up to him. Green eyes shining damply and cheeks tear stained. Her mouth opened, and she shook her head slightly before snapping her mouth shut. Jerking from his grip. Stumbling backward, she caught her footing.

Pain tore his face. “Don’t go.”

“Once we leave here you’ll never see me again!” She vowed.

The Hell I won’t! His jaw hardened. A muscle ticking there.

“I meant what me said. Ye owe me a wee one. A son for a son, fer yer crimes.”

“Crime?”

“Running from yer spouse. Abandoning yer home. Even in Ardae, there are laws against a wife fleeing ’er husband.”

“You-you-” She pointed a shaking finger at him and jerked her head. “I will not!”

“Ye’re mine. At least in name. And we’re goin’ home.”

“Over my dead body!” She squawked.

Perhaps.

“One way or another…” His head lowered, blue eyes flicked ruby in warning. Telling her she toyed with fire, baiting him.

If I have to carry you over my shoulder.

Her green eyes narrowed treacherously.

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