Page 51 of Shared By the Vikings

Like a goshawk, she watched it keenly.

Bang.

Straight on target.

The arrow, fashioned from wood, didn’t penetrate the hard shell. It simply strummed off it, a hammer on a drum, but it proved she had been on target.

Tali tipped his head and laughed. A lovely deep guffaw. “Had it been a bird, a rabbit, you would have yourself a more hearty breakfast.”

“But it wasn’t.” She couldn’t quell the sense of pride and had to dampen her grin.

He stood. “You should go with Erik today.”

“You believe that?”

“Ja.” He gestured to her head, breasts, hips, and toes. “I don’t think anyone should be fooled by your small female body, Ingrid. You are a shield maiden with skills, a warrior princess. An arrow is as deadly as a sword yet affords the attacker the grace of distance. Go and show Jarl Erik what you have.”

An iron sense of resolve set up residence in her core. “I will.” She nodded at Gunnvar. “Willhewant me to go?”

Tali tipped his head and considered her. “I get the feeling Gunnvar, for all his brash muscle flexing—and whatever else went on between you in the forest—will go along with your wishes.”

She squeezed her buttocks together. “I could do without...”

“Another spanking. I’m sure you could.” He stepped up close and rested his hand on her left shoulder. “Two in two days, right?”

She frowned.

He slipped his hand down her back, into the dip and then over the rise of her ass cheeks. “I have no desire to spank you, Ingrid.”

“Good.”

He leaned close. “But I do desireyou.”

She said naught, continued to stare straight ahead; her need for Tali, to get closer to him was growing. It couldn’t be ignored, neither could the flashbacks of him working his cock in the river.

The waves fluffed and frothed. Just out of their reach Gunnvar stooped and dragged more crisping driftwood into the cradle of his arm.

“But I also desire you to be safe and to obey us when we give you instructions to keep you secure,” Tali said. “In that way I am no different to the others.”

A cloak of protection wrapped around her—like fire-warmed lamb’s wool on a bitter, frost-laden night—yet at the same time, that lamb’s wool held her captive, a million tiny strands of iron chain. These men demanded her obedience as much as they wanted her to survive... thrive even.

The obedience of a princess—King Baardsen of Ravndal’s daughter.

Oh, but to thrive, to be who she truly wanted to be. At one with the earth, and with Freya’s guidance at one with love, lust, enchantment, and the connection of souls.

How many souls can I connect with?

She stepped away from Tali, her mind a tangled yarn.

“You’re special,” he said. “You must know that.”

“I have been told with words, but actions speak louder.”

“Why do you think both Erik and Gunnvar acted how they did?”

She didn’t reply, instead a sweep of hotness went over her ass as he massaged her rump.

“It’s because they care,” he said. “We all do.”

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