Page 71 of Astrid at Sea

“About a month,” I feigned nonchalance.

“So, you’ve been married a month and ten days?”

I shrugged. “Give or take a few days.”

“And do you love your husband? Do you love Viktor of Jorvik?” Frode asked, holding my gaze as he awaited my answer. I didn’t know why this pirate was asking me such weird questions, but I didn’t like it.

“What kind of question is that?” I snorted. “Of course, I love my husband! I wouldn’t have married him if I didn’t love him.”

Technically, I wasn’t lying. I may not have been in love with Viktor that day we married, but his love for me was enough to convince me that I would be happy and well-loved by him. Falling in love with Viktor felt inevitable, and he soon proved me right.

It may have taken me longer to fall in love with Viktor than it did for him to fall in love with me, but that didn’t diminish my love for my husband.

“Well, that’s too bad,” Frode chuckled lowly.

My lips curled down as I watched him. I didn’t like his sleazy grin one bit. It sent disgusted shivers down my spine.

“Is that how you look at your husband when he approaches you at night?”

My jaw dropped in shock at his sudden and utterly inappropriate question. How dare he have the nerve to ask me something so personal? And how dare his men laugh at me as if there was something remotely funny about this situation! There certainly wasn’t, but it appeared that I was the only one that felt that way.

“How dare you ask such a thing,” I scoffed, resisting the urge to spit at him since that was the only thing I could do in my restrained state.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m not going to.”

“We’ll see about that,” Frode grinned. Before I could call him out for being such a sleazy human being, he stood up andreached for me. He grabbed me from under my armpits and forced me onto my feet.

My eyes widened in panic as I stared up at him, but with my hands and feet still tied together, there wasn’t much that I could do.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked as Frode threw me over his shoulder once again. If I hadn’t been so worried about why we were heading away from the beach and his two fellow pirates, I would have complained about the whiplash, he would undoubtedly give me with the way he kept throwing me around.

“Since you refused to answer my question, I’ll have to find out the answer myself.”

“There’s no point,” I tried to deny, hoping he would stop whatever sinister thing he planned to do. “My husband would sooner rather die than answer that question.”

“Oh, you misunderstand me, Astrid of Jorvik,” Frode chuckled, and this time, his hand landed right on my ass as he smacked it. My face reddened, but not with embarrassment. “I don’t need to ask your husband. I’m going to find out for myself.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Frode didn’t need to clarify further for me to figure out what he meant or what his intentions were. His hand on my ass and the sleazy, proud grin, which I just knew was on his face, was answer enough.

I had no idea why he felt the need to climb onto his pirate ship and head down to the second floor to one of the bedrooms. Perhaps it was because it was away from the rest of the island, or maybe he was too lazy to head to his hut. I wasn’t even sure if this abandoned island had huts.

“Where are you taking me?” I demanded to know in a desperate scream, repeatedly raising my restrained hands and bringing them down on his back. I tried to get him to stop moving, but Frode merely chuckled and continued down the steps to the second floor.

“I’m going to show you a good time, unlike that good-for-nothing husband of yours,” Frode laughed. When he gave one cheek a firm squeeze, I screamed as loud as I could and continued to thrash my hands against his back, but it was no use. I screamed as loud as I could until my throat ached from overuse, but no one came running to my rescue. I wasn’t evensure if anyone could hear me, which made the dread filling my stomach even worse.

Oh, I wished I could be sick down his back right now. Frode would no doubt be too soiled and in a terrible mood to do anything wicked to me.

Frode pushed open the door at the end of the hallway, and I assumed this was his bedroom.

“There’s no point screaming, lass,” he chuckled, kicking the door shut behind him. He briefly paused to lock the door, and I feared the sound of the lock sliding into place would haunt me for years to come. “No one is going to come and help you, and your husband, Viktor of Jorvik, won’t be able to hear you from wherever he is. It’s a pity because I’m sure he’d love to hear the screams of his wife as another man pleasures her.”

Frode roughly threw me down on the bed. There was a dark, depraved look in his eyes as he licked his lips and dropped a hand to the tie on his breeches.

With my hands and feet tied, I could do nothing but scramble back on the bed, desperately trying to put some distance between us.

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