Realm Walker's Awakening: Realm Walker #2, page 16
But I felt better and like I wouldn’t split from the pressure of tears I held back for so long. I could breathe too. Not literally, since my nose was leaking, but figuratively. It was like the weight of the world was lifted from my shoulders, giving me temporary relief. Because I knew it would come back, but it wasn’t something I wanted to think about and dread.
Not right after I had a good cry.
Turning my face on Rune’s shoulder so my cheek rested on him, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I sniffled and rubbed the back of my hand under my nose, trying to clean myself up so I didn’t gross him out with snot. His hold on me tightened in comfort, and his large hand at the back of my head played with my hair down to the bottom as he pet me like a cat. It wasn’t something that upset me. I liked that he soothed me like this, petting my hair and sending his love through the gentle touch.
Goosebumps raised the hairs on my arms and hardened my nipples from the wonderful feeling of his fingers. I jumped when he moved but relaxed as he lowered me with him on the bed, laying flat on his back with me on his chest.
Settling back on him, I moved to where my ear pressed over his heart, hoping I could hear his heartbeat. Sadly, because of the thick armor, I couldn’t. Which confused me because I heard it earlier in the storm.
“Why won’t you connect the link?” Rune murmured, his fingers back to playing with my hair.
My eyes fluttered closed, and my heart picked up its pace as I tried to come up with a good reason that wasn’t the truth. But I was so tired and couldn’t think straight. My head was already spinning, and I tasted sleep on my tongue.
So I stayed quiet and prayed he’d let it go.
He sighed; his breath loud beneath my ear.
“What you’re going through isn’t something to hide or be ashamed of,” he said calmly. “I’ve been alive for a very long time. And I’ve seen a lot in that time. Came across many people who walked different paths in life. Read many things and watched films as they came out while I was in Plapidell, the hundreds and thousands of times searching for you.” He stroked the back of my shoulders and along the upper part of my back before he played with my hair again. A delicious shiver went up my spine, and I curled my fingers into his chest. “Going through trauma changes people. It doesn’t matter if they are human or not . . . and I’ve seen many immortals spiral into the endless darkness of their minds after they killed someone with their bare hands. I’ve witnessed many women attacked and violated by the hands of their husbands, friends . . . strangers.”
He paused, his fingers twirling a lock of my hair, and dropped it to play with other pieces.
My heart fluttered as I imagined all the women he’d seen pinned down by another man as he had his way with them. My stomach nosedived, twisting into knots while I held my breath. I was close to getting sick to my stomach.
Did Rune step in? Why didn’t he help the women?
His free hand brushed over my upturned cheek, his fingers lingering over my skin as he stroked. It sent tingles through the area down to my neck. My cheeks flushed with warmth, and another shiver went through my body.
“I helped them, elskan mín,” he said, hurt laced in his voice like he knew what was going through my head. “I’d never let a woman suffer. Especially at the hands of men. In Azola—where you and I lived—women were the elite and held higher than men. They were worshipped more and, in my opinion, better than any god. Men saw women as equal, if not higher than us.
“But there were always the few who didn’t believe that. Their minds became murky with power they didn’t earn fairly, and the sick fucks got off on hearing women scream. If I didn’t save the women who were overpowered and abused, then someone else would. But during sieges, raids, and wars, I always kept my senses open. Just to hear the first muffled scream from a woman. It’s part of our code as men. As much as the women are warriors and can handle themselves, we still protect them when some asshole gets drunk on tainted power.”
The image of a village busy with men fighting, some with swords and others with an ax and wooden shield, played in my head. Tops of huts and cottages were on fire, creating a smoky atmosphere as everyone fought or ran away from the danger. Screams filled the little village as those who couldn’t fight ran, leading their children away. What stuck out the most was a woman pinned on her stomach, her face dirty, and horror twisting her features as she screamed and fought against the man on her back. Her fingers clawed at the loose soil under her as she tried to crawl away.
Bile rose to my throat and stayed as I forced it back with a heavy swallow.
I felt the panic and terror of the woman in my mind. And underneath it, her seething with the promise she’d make him pay once he was done.
I wasn’t sure how I felt it and knew. But I did, and I was too tired and upset to pull it apart and find the answers with every small piece of the puzzle.
Instead, I kept my lips pressed together in a tight line, swallowing back the acid from my stomach.
Rune talked again, not noticing my struggle.
“Every single woman showed signs of trauma. They always had a specific darkness in their mind they retreated to. I knew it wasn’t the type of darkness many people deemed troubled or evil. Not the same type as the men who fell away from their code and oath to always protect women, to always fight by their sides. Their tainted darkness changed them for the worst. No . . . these women found solace in their darkness. They were safe.” His hand came to the back of my head while his other pinched my chin to gently turn my face up to look at him. His eyes held tenderness and a deep understanding. Tilting his head in a nod, he confirmed my suspicion.
“Years later, when I was with a small group about to sneak past the guarded gates, one woman who’d been violated was there with me. We waited for the city to sleep before we moved in to begin our attack. While we waited, I asked her how she could be around men anymore, especially with the darkness I sensed from her.
“I’ll never forget the look on her face as she glanced at me. Her eyes were guarded, but the rest of her showed no sign of her being on edge. Completely relaxed, her hand not on the grip of her sword like I’d seen the others do. Like she was in the comfort and safety of her home and not stuck with me, worried sick that I’d take advantage of her. Nor did she show an ounce of fear about us going into the den of angels to slaughter those who’d been going behind our backs on many things and were known for being violent with women.
“She said, ‘You see it as darkness, but I see it as my light in the endless night. It never creeps up on me the way everything else does. If I’m surrounded by it, then no one can harm me the way the one who I thought I could trust did. For many seasons, I couldn’t be around a man without being on guard, planning every move should he attack. I was wary of men and had a deep-seated hatred for them until I was faced with the realization that my venomous feelings allowed them to have power over me. Even the asshole who reaped what he sowed in his unmarked grave. He still had power over me until I took it back.
“When I finally found myself again and said enough is enough, I was in the main gathering hall, surrounded by men and women, drinking and laughing. Some were kissing and petting each other in the dark corners so others couldn’t watch the show. When I looked around, something took over me. Like the sun finally rose after an endless dark night, showing me that the men who joked with me and drank and cheered with me weren’t the bad ones. They wouldn’t hurt me or take advantage. It was then I noticed their eyes kept coming back to me with concern and camaraderie. Everyone saw me struggling the whole time and was looking out for me while I pieced myself back together because they knew if they tried to help me, I would have gone further into the ‘darkness.’”
Rune’s eyes bore into mine, still holding the same tenderness and compassion. His fingers at the back of my head tangled in my hair, cradling me carefully like he was worried that with one wrong move, I’d break.
“What you’re feeling is normal.” Even though his voice was soft, it held a steel undertone, forcing the conviction of his words for me to believe. “Please, elskan mín, let me help you. Let me ease your burdens and shoulder the darkness you hide in. Seek your solace in me, and let me bear your pain. I’ll fight your demons away until you’re ready to face them and find you’re stronger than them.” He paused, swallowing hard, and his last three words were so soft I barely made them out. “You’ve always been.”
I’d always been strong . . .?
I didn’t feel it.
Breaking eye contact with him was next to impossible. I couldn’t find the will to look away as he watched me with calm but turmoil-filled eyes.
Did I cause him pain by not wanting him to help? For not wanting the link connected?
Placing my hand on the bed by his shoulder, I pushed myself up until I half straddled him while still bent over him. Locks of my hair tumbled over my shoulder and hung like a curtain around us as I gazed down at him.
He grabbed my waist, holding me with care and not desire. Even though I felt his growing erection under me, he made no advances.
My chest tightened, and my lower lip trembled before I caught it between my two front teeth. I took a moment to swallow back the thick emotion before releasing my lip. Bringing one of my hands to his face, I ran the pads of my fingers along his cheek and into his beard.
His pupils dilated, but his face remained stoic and showed no other signs of his desire. He lay beneath me, still and patient with me as I touched him and marveled over him.
I hoped through my touch and stinging eyes that he knew I loved him. Really knew. I hoped he understood from the strokes of my fingers and pleading eyes how scared I was for him to see and feel how much I struggled. How afraid I was.
He showed no sign that he understood. Only watched me with his unblinking eyes.
I licked my dry lower lip, then took a deep breath before I released it on a shaky exhale. My lips parted, intending to tell him I was scared to connect the link because of all the pain.
The same darkness he mentioned from other women that I was feeling.
But no words came. I couldn’t force them out. Couldn’t make myself admit to it.
Closing my mouth, I averted my gaze as I lowered myself back onto him and rested my cheek on his chest.
“I need to sleep,” I whispered. Begged.
If I got some rest, then maybe I’d feel better when I woke up. Maybe I wouldn’t be as sad, scared, and on the verge of a breakdown every five minutes.
Rune’s hand rested on the back of my head, his sigh loud in my ear. His disappointment was louder, though. But he folded me in his arms and held me while I forced my mind to shut everything off and fall asleep.
I realized now that I’d forgotten to pack the one thing I needed to help me sleep while in the new realms the first time around.
Because of everything that happened and breaking down and crying, falling asleep wasn’t hard. It was a reprieve from all the shit that happened.
Though it didn’t stop the whispers as they came while I slipped under.
“I don’t know what I did . . .”
“He’s sick . . .”
“Are you listening?”
Chapter
Thirteen
The main hall we gathered in to drink was full of men laughing with giggles and soft whispers from the women who sat on their lovers’ laps. Tonight was a special night as we drank Ivar’s latest mead that he’d been working on many full moons.
The wild berry mead dulled our senses while replacing it with a floating feeling of the mind and body. It wasn’t drunk often, especially by me, because of the current threat of the tribal wolves who wanted more land and women to breed. A group recently crossed the dangerous Kraken Sea and were coming into my territory.
I sent a warning to their King, sending back one survivor tied to their remaining ship’s bow, a decapitated head strung on him like a necklace. The rest of the dismembered bodies were thrown in a pile in the middle of the Viking ship because, even while dead, they weren’t allowed to pollute my land. They had diseases that were killing their women, and I refused for it to pass to the women here.
It wouldn’t be another week’s time before the message was received. And that gave me tonight to enjoy the numbing of my mind with the mead I drank with my people.
And with him.
It’d been a while since I joined them in a long night of drinking. Especially with the one man who made me smile and treated me like a friend he wasn’t scared of. The others were good about hiding their fear, but I still saw it in their eyes as they watched me with worry and tension in their shoulders.
I hadn’t seen him for a few days as I left after our attack on the small wolves group. From all the pain, fear, and torture of the men we killed, I needed to find an escape to calm myself. To ground and forgive myself for wanting to do worse to those wicked men who planned to do evil things to my people.
But when I was gone, I missed him.
I longed to be by his side but didn’t want to force him to follow. I knew he must’ve wanted to take the time to ride back to our village and take care of all the details of preparing the next attack. For him to then decompress and celebrate with the others with drinks and a woman on his lap. For him to have a sleepless night with her warming his bed.
He’d always been a social man and popular with women. So I didn’t force him by my side to follow. He deserved the time away from me and to be happy doing what men loved after a good battle.
But tonight, he sat across from me, chuckling at his own joke he shared with me. He sipped his mead from the horn in his large hand. His squinted eyes were on me, pleased as I cracked a smile and huffed a laugh.
I barely remembered the joke he shared because of my wandering thoughts. Looking at him made everything around us fall away, my gaze sweeping over him, always landing on his lips. He would talk to me, and I’d revel in hearing his voice, but when I watched his mouth move and take sips of his drink, I always watched when his tongue peeked out to catch a stray drop of the mead from his bottom lip.
He lowered the horn, and I wasn’t let down when I homed in on the drops of the drink wetting above his lip and in the corners. They trailed into the shadow of his few days’ growth on his chin. My eyes followed them on their slow descent before he licked them away. Even though the wetness was gone, my gaze stayed on his mouth.
What would they feel like pressed to mine?
Soft like how he looked at me when he didn’t think I noticed? Or would it be harsh, like he was in battle?
No.
He wasn’t a harsh man behind it all when his walls were down with me. I was positive he’d be attentive and make sure I enjoyed every second. He’d thoroughly kiss me until I climbed on him like I’d seen other women do with their lovers and rock my hips against his. I wanted to feel his erection beneath me, giving me the thrill that I made him feel good and drove him wild like he did to me. He’d spear his tongue into my mouth like I’d seen others do, sharing his taste with me to never forget. He’d let me bury my hands in his soft hair, groaning into my mouth as I scratched my nails on his scalp.
His large hands would hold my waist, rocking me faster on him, spurring him on to make him come undone. I’d heard men shout in ecstasy many times in my life with their lovers. Each time I heard their groans, I imagined this man who made me feel things making those sounds while sheathed inside me.
He’d make me lose all rational thought where he’d be the center of my universe. I’d forget my name and title from his lips and touches.
Did he know the power he held over me?
The corner of his lips twitched, then curled in his signature cocky smirk.
Snapping my gaze to his, my cheeks warmed from the male amusement glinting in the ocean blue.
So he caught me staring, then. But he wouldn’t think anything of it . . .
Right?
He had more interests in other women than he did in me. They were more interesting than I was and certainly didn’t get tongue-tied when he made sexual jokes to them.
He could have possibly thought it was adorable that I looked at him the way I did. With longing and years of repressed sexual desire for him. But he wouldn’t want me and certainly wouldn’t want to touch me for one night.
They all feared me, and it was possible he feared me but hid it better than the others.
Even with the truth crystal clear, hope bloomed in my chest as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table, his smirk pulling into an amused grin.
My cheeks burned with the heat of my blush, and my stomach fluttered rapidly with such strangeness I’d never felt before him. Like butterflies were flapping around in my stomach.
Only he made me react this way. He was the only one who gave me this type of attention outside of the respect and fear others showed me. He’d never shown me fear—even though I worried it was there. It was always humor and warmth from him.
And teasing me until I squeezed my thighs together to stop the throbbing in my nether regions.
“Are you done drinking?” He jerked his chin toward the horn in my hand.
Blinking, I glanced at it in a death grip and raised it before I locked eyes with him again. It took me a moment to find my voice and mentally shake away the strange feelings.
“It’s almost gone, but if you wish for me to continue, I shall.”
He cracked his brilliant smile and got to his feet. The heavy chair he sat on scraped against the old driftwood we had placed down together two Midsummer blots prior.
“Then let me refill it for you, my Queen.”
He held a finger up for me to wait. He crossed the busy hall and leaned over Svend’s shoulder, snatching the pitcher of mead. Someone made a comment, making him chuckle as he made his way back to me and stopped by my side. As I looked up at him, he grabbed the hand holding the horn and poured the mead, keeping his hand over mine. His touch was warm and rough with calluses from a long life of working with his hands. And a lot longer life of wielding weapons that blistered his palms and fingers.
