Page 35 of The Barbarian's Claim
He was right. No one stepped forward to help Orn. Not even his friends. I noticed a few of them, the ones who had sat around the fire with him, and the one who had confronted me at Simon’s bonding ceremony. They had dark expressions on their faces, and none moved to stop what was happening.
“It would bring dishonor to them to get involved,” Uttin explained quietly when he noticed me studying them. “Besides, tributes are revered in our clan. No one hurts a tribute here. They face death or banishment if they do. Orn will face the consequences of his actions. His life was forfeit the moment he chose to hurt a tribute, even a claimed one. Even if his blade had reached Simon instead, the result would be the same.”
Another clash of metal on metal drew my focus, and I watched as Einar twisted his blade, causing Orn’s to fly from his hand and skitter away. Orn looked exhausted, his breathing heavy, and he was covered in cuts and blood. He stumbled, onehand pressed to his stomach where the blood flowed the most. And then, with one quick movement, Einar cut Orn’s head clean off.
I’d seen him do it before, when the Fer’na attacked, but it still startled me how easy he made it look.
Simon’s bondmate made a grunting sound, breaking the silence, that quickly spread through the clan. It turned into a kind of chant, until it was near deafening. No one explained to me what was happening, but Simon nudged me forward, jerking his chin toward Einar.
“Go.”
I did, my breath caught in my chest as I hurried to Einar’s side. He tucked me against him, lifting his sword into the air, and shouted something in the barbarian language that the clan shouted back in response. And then it was all over.
Twenty-Three
EINAR
There was a hum in my throat as Matthew ran his hands over my skin, checking again that I was uninjured. There had been a lot of blood from the fight, but none had been mine. I’d argued against making Orn a warrior when he first requested it—he wasn’t skilled enough—but he was strong and willing, so Orthorr allowed it anyway. The battle today was proof I had been right all along. It should not have been that easy.
Pulling Matthew closer, I ran my tongue up his neck, causing him to shiver and gasp. “Have your worries been assuaged, zoragar? I am unharmed.”
He tipped his head to give me more room, even while shaking his head. “N-no. I-it’s t-too dark to see.”
Chuckling, I nipped at his chin. We had gone to the river so I could clean off, and I allowed him to check me while I undressed and dragged him into the water to help me get the blood off, and still he was unsatisfied. Since I worried about him just as muchwhen he was hurt, I allowed his attentions. I enjoyed having him in my lap too much to complain.
“How are you not freezing right now?” Simon called out.
I sighed heavily. I should have known we could not keep the river to ourselves for long. It wasn’t so late that the clan was sleeping. The sun had barely set when the drokagorn had begun. And it wasn’t like it lasted that long. It was too short to satisfy me. I only ended it because Orn’s attempts to fight had grown pathetic, and it felt like a waste of my efforts to keep going.
Along with Simon came Feigrind, then Finn and Rath, followed by Verus and his bondmate, Patrick. The healer, Zoya, and her bondmate Khaul brought their babe, and a few others came as well. It was common in the clans to bathe in groups, but right now, I wished they would leave us be.
Matthew dropped his gaze, hugging my neck tightly. Rubbing his back, I asked, “What is wrong?”
“I-I w-wish I c-c-could answer h-him…” he murmured.
“You will, one day,” I reassured him, rubbing my hand along his spine.
He was embarrassed by his condition, but he improved every day as he spoke to me. When he wasn’t stressed and felt safe enough to take his time, he was clearer. There were times when he said something without the tremor at all. He just needed more time and to have more trust in the clan, as he did with me.
“Absolutely not!” Simon screeched, taking a big step back from Feigrind, who had a wicked grin on his face. I urged Matthew to turn, and we both watched as my brothers convinced their bondmates to join them in the river instead of washing with the pot of warmed water nearby. Finn was the easiest to convince, since he was besotted with Rath. The rest took only a little persuasion. Only Simon adamantly refused, and Feigrind had to toss him over his shoulder to get him into the water. The profanity that flew from Simon’s mouth was both in the clanlanguage and the common tongue, and it only stopped when Feigrind kissed him.
Matthew slowly relaxed, watching with a quirk in his lips, amused at Simon’s protests. He was small enough that I still preferred for him to bathe with warm water, but he was putting on more weight, and as long as he was in my arms, I felt it was safe enough for him to join me. Besides, I would warm him up in our tent later.
“Hey, Einar!” Verus called out from where the rest were bathing. “Do you want us to set up a larger tent for you and your bondmate? You had no ceremony!”
Matthew frowned, the question in his eyes when he looked at me.
“When a male is bonded, his tent is expanded to better fit a couple and future children. I hadn’t thought of it until now.”
“I-I like our t-t-tent,” he whispered.
I felt no need to push him. He could always change his mind later. For now, he was happy with the smaller space because he told me it was more than he had while living on the streets. He felt comfortable and safe there.
Verus got distracted with his bondmate, but Rath waited for my answer. He dipped his chin to acknowledge my head shake in reply and gave his attention back to Finn, who was shivering and plastered against his chest.
For a little while, we stayed in the water. Matthew watched the other couples, listening to their conversations. I knew he didn’t understand, but he seemed content to just listen and relax in my arms. I allowed it for a time before I became more focused on the naked male in my lap than my brothers and their mates. Running my hands up Matthew’s thighs, I whispered in his ear, “Have I missed any spots, zoragar?”
He shivered, turning back to give me his full attention. A slow, heated grin pulled at his lips, and he rested his forehead against mine.
