Page 42 of Hungry Like a Wolf
“Even though he is not from your lands.”
“The seer told my mother, when I was just a young girl, that my destiny would come to me from over the sea.” She stroked her belly. “That the fruits of my destiny would have blood that didn’t start flowing in the Northlands the way mine did.”
“You are…pregnant?”
Erin smiled. “I do not know for sure, but I hope so. I would like to give Joseph sons before he gets much older.”
Carmel was quiet as Erin brushed her hair again. In her world, the thought of a monk having a wife and child was ludicrous. Yet here…in this cold, jagged land, it wasn’t strange at all.
What else would she get used to before her mother’s army saved her?
If they ever saved her.
“Why are you here?” Erin asked suddenly.
“Why am I here?”
“Ja.” She poured two jugs of ale. “What brought you to Drangar?”
“I had no choice.”
“What did you have no choice in?” A deep voice came from behind her.
Carmel turned.
Ravn stood there holding a small boy with blond hair cut as though a round bowl had been put on his scalp and everything below it shaved off.
“To be here.” She frowned.
“We all do things we have no choice in.”
“Like what?”
“Remember the delfins.” He bit his bottom lip and grinned. “I had no choice in doing something then. I was overcome with it.”
Instantly, she knew he was talking about their kiss. It was the way he looked at her with an intensity that had heat flowing into her veins in the same way it had when he’d kissed her.
“How could I forget?” She turned away, her cheeks burning.
“This is my son, Thormod.” He stooped and set the child down. “This will be his second summer.”
“Thormod.” Erin held out her arms to him. “Come. I have sweet rhubarb for you.”
“Wait,” Ravn said.
The child stopped and turned to his father with wide, blue eyes. “Sayhelloto Princess Carmel. Speak in the tongue of Joseph.”
Thormod turned to Carmel as though seeing her for the first time. He wasn’t shy. He stepped up close and peered at her eyes.
“Hello,” she said. “What is this?” She pointed at the little, wooden toy in his hand.
“Båt.”
“Boat,” Ravn corrected. “Speak your new mother’s tongue.”
Thormod’s eyes widened and he turned to Ravn.
Carmel felt as shocked as little Thormod about the introduction but tried not to show it. “Can I see your boat?” she asked, forcing a smile.
