Page 17 of The Stolen Bride

By Elizabeth “Elle” Darcy-Bruce

Viktor dumped me on the pallet of furs for the second time that day and paced. Back and forth, back and forth, agitated but no longer verging on violence or muttering. Rather, he remained silent, which wasn’t much better.

At least his size returned to “normal.”

As I watched him and waited for the food to arrive, my eyelids grew heavy. Guess the emotional highs and lows, unmitigated stress, constant stream of uncertainty, and mystery drugs had caught up with me.

I fought the fatigue with every fiber of my being, refusing to fall asleep in Viktor’s presence. Although, if Iwashis firebrand, I was probably safer with him than anyoneelse in the world. According to everything I’d read in my studies, berserkers protected what they considered theirs. Proof: look how fervently King Tor had warned his own second-in-command to keep his hands off the royal prisoner. Also, notice how quickly Viktor had ceased raging when I showed up on the scene.

Maybe Prince Bodi wouldn't be so swift to threaten me now. For the time being, I had a bit of power and influence over his sovereign. Except. The Valkara. She threw a wrench in my assurance.

But. Ugh. There was also my reoccurring dream to consider. How I could’ve seen into the future, I didn’t know. If I was, in fact, Viktor’s firebrand, he might, just might, be the warrior I pledged to serve. But seriously, me, kneel before him? I still wasn’t a fan of the idea. And I didn’t even know what “the greater good” was. I did know it wasn’t a double chili cheeseburger with a mix of onion rings and french fries, ranch dip on the side.

Dang it, where was the food? My body was probably already eating itself!

I needed a distraction. Again and again, my attention returned to the pile of instruments. My fingers itched to play. Finally I succumbed to temptation, clambered to my feet, and walked to the prized violin. Intricately carved swirls decorated the upper and lower boot.

As gently as possible, I seized the instrument by the neck and body, then got comfortable on the chair at Viktor’s desk to test the strings.Nice. Perfectly tuned.

After rosining the bow, I gave an experimental stroke. My lips parted as the rich, warm tone of the Stradivarius filled the tent. Never, in all my days, had I heard anything as exquisite or powerful.

Closing my eyes, I played a series of layered notes,thrilling at the harmonies. Satisfied with what I heard, I focused on the still pacing Viktor, curious to learn his reaction as I brought to life the serene melody of Bach’sAir on the G String. Would he calm as I often did?

He ground to an abrupt halt, and at first, he only gave me more scowl. But bit by bit, his expression and posture softened. Ultimately, his lids hooded, giving his entire face a seductive quality. He prowled closer to lean against the edge of the desk and savor the music.

Emboldened, I played and played and played until my body ached. Just in time to notice the sun was finishing its descent, the light in the tent dimming. When the last note faded, I breathed deep and set the instrument aside.

Viktor immediately kicked into a new pace. “Never play again,” he growled. “Tell me you understand and you will obey this order.”

What? “Why?”

“Because I said so.” Another growl.

“Why?” I demanded, unfazed.

He rubbed the center of his chest, remaining silent.

Fine. The reason didn’t matter. Better to concentrate on a subject thatdidmatter to my continued wellbeing. Something to help me decide my next move. “Be honest. Do you believe I’m your firebrand, yes or no?”

With his back to me, he went still. The muscles between his shoulders bunched, and his hands curled into tight fists. “You shouldn’t ask such a ridiculous question. The answer is nem. Absolutely not.” He responded in heavily accented English, and I realized I’d asked in my native tongue. “There’s no chance. None. Not even the slightest possibility. If ever I’m tied to another, it will be the Valkara.” Tension blasted from him, and he snapped, “But maybe.”

Aaah! He’d all but admitted it. A part of this slightlyinsane royal berserker who’d maimed members of his own army for a completely irrelevant motive–just a guess on my end–believed I could be his soulmate. His fated companion. The one he was destined to love, the most powerful force on earth.

I might be the only person in any world with an innate ability to calm him.

Of course, in no way, shape or form did I reciprocate. King Viktor Endris might see me as a possible soulmate, but I didn’t view him in the same vein. I believed in the power and necessity of love, yes. And I concurred with his assessment that it was a force unlike any other. Powerful yet sweet. Healing. But I wanted what my parents enjoyed.

They had loved each other without reservation, building each other up, never tearing down. And, as Benjamin had taught me, gifting your affections to the wrong person brought only pain. You gave, they took. You encouraged, they destroyed. Been there, done that. Never again.

The entrance whisked aside, and Bodi strode into the tent. A pair of metal shackles rested in his hands. “I apologize for the delay, Majesty. We doctored the cook and his crew, and they are back in action, preparing the requested feast. I’ve also found the Bracelets.”

You’re kidding me. I popped to my feet and shook my head, locks of hair slapping my cheeks. “Hear me now, Viktor. All bets are off if you try to bind me.”

“Majesty?” the prince insisted.

Viktor adopted a crouching position, as if he planned to leap onto his soldier and rip off the man’s head with his bare hands. Snarls rumbled in his chest, and claws grew from his finger tips. “You heard her. She refuses. Toss theBracelets.”

Oh, yeah. I was his firebrand all right, on a ring of higher importance than the Valkara, who wasn’t. A full-wattage smile bloomed. Smirking, I told Bodi, “Be a good boy and obey your king.” For good measure, I flipped my braid over my shoulder. Bravado was a language this man understood. “In case I wasn’t clear, take the handcuffs and go.”

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