He glared at me. Then he shook his head once and looked back at the robed guy.
Okay, that didn’t work either.
I sighed and I did this heavily.
Then a thought occurred to me. I squeezed my fingers on his fist to get his attention and his head turned and dipped to look at me again.
I fought the fear his scary-assed glower sent slithering through my belly, got up on my toes and leaned in slightly, whispering, “Do you speak my language?”
Again with the brows snapping together and narrowing of eyes so I dropped back down on my feet and leaned away an inch.
Then, his voice came quiet but deep and growling and just as scary as the rest of him, “Have you been at the drink?”
The bad news was, he thought I was tipsy. The good news was, he spoke English.
“No, I… don’t think so,” I answered, still whispering.
“If you do not know then you have and have had too much,” he returned, still growling quiet.
“Well, I don’t feel lightheaded or sick and I’m not swaying or singing, which I do, a lot when I’ve imbibed too much so,” I tried another smile, “evidence is suggesting I’m not shitfaced.”
He aimed his narrow-eyed, knit-browed scowl at my mouth again then it snapped back to my eyes.
Then he growled low, quiet and now ominous, “Shut your mouth…” his neck bent further so his angry face was closer and finished, “future wife.”
He spit out the last word like it tasted foul then straightened and looked at the robed guy again and so did I to see he had fortunately moved onto the next statue.
Hmm. None of that went well. Not any of it. Not even a little bit.
And I was right when I first saw him, he didn’t want to be here at all but, I was getting the impression, especially not with me.
I decided to try again maybe at the reception. Maybe after I had some alcohol and maybe after I got some down him. Maybe he’d loosen up then. Maybe, if I got enough down him, he’d pass out so I could avoid the wedding night, uh… festivities until I could figure out how to avoid the marital consummation on the whole.
In other words, hijack a sleigh and get the fuck out of Dodge.
I stood silent as the robed guy kept talking to statues then finally moved back to stand in front of us then he said a bunch more stuff and at long last, he smiled, put a hand on my shoulder, another one he reached high to put on The Dragon’s shoulder and he nodded up at The Dragon happily.
He dropped his hands and I wondered if that was it or if we would exchange rings or vows and I hoped I didn’t have anything I was supposed to know to say but I didn’t wonder long.
This was because The Dragon turned his fist, it opened and his long fingers engulfed my hand and I realized his big body was turning to me.
I turned to him, tipped my head back to look up and then I felt my stomach drop.
He was smiling, even, beautiful white teeth against tan skin. And his eyes were shining with a light that looked a bizarre and terrifying mixture of wolfish, amused, lethal and heated.
Then he let my hand go and before I knew what was happening, his long, strong arms were wrapped around me, one tight at my waist lifting my feet clean off the floor, hauling me up his body, the fingers of the other driving into my hair to cup the back of my head.
I let out a surprised cry as my hands automatically went to his shoulders to hold on, I vaguely heard a few excited whoops from the church but then he was forcing my head down, his was slanting and… oh God… oh God! – he was going to kiss me!
Nope, he wasn’t going to. He did.
And no sooner had he crashed my mouth down to his when his mouth opened, his tongue forced my lips open and he kissed me.
Deep, rough, hard, wet and oh so very hungry.
And last, but definitely not least, skillful.
I didn’t know this guy and he scared the living daylights out of me but that did not take one iota away from the fact that the man could freaking kiss.
It was the best kiss I’d ever had. By far.
Wow.
His head jerked back, tearing his mouth from mine and I stared down at him dazed.
I was wrong. He wasn’t scary. He was totally, freaking hot.
I heard but yet didn’t hear the calls, shouts, clapping and whoops as the daze of his kiss slid away from me and I saw I had wrapped my arms around his neck and he was looking up at me, again scary-pissed but now also guarded-pissed.
What?
Then he dropped me so heavily on my feet, I instantly had to brace so my knees wouldn’t buckle. I barely got my legs under control when his hand gripped mine and he was dragging me down the aisle.
Yes, dragging me.
Uh-oh.
I had to run to keep up with his long strides as I heard my father shout from behind me, “Drakkar! What are you doing? Where are you going? The celebration!”
The Dragon didn’t slow, not even a little bit as my father called and people stopped cheering and clapping and started buzzing with surprise but I had to keep up with him or he’d be dragging my prone body behind him rather than my sprinting one.
We made it to the vestibule and he yanked my cloak out of a waiting girl’s hands, another one rushed to me, shoving my gloves at me. I took them reflexively and we were out in the cold.
Then I was up, thrown bodily, yes bodily, into the back of a sleigh. My cloak was tossed at me, landing against my chest and lap.
I blinked at my new husband in shock, my heart hammering, he gathered a bunch of leather straps, thrust them in my hands and I automatically gripped them. Then, as people poured out of the church, he wasted not a second mounting a glossy, huge steed, twirling it around then he leaned to the side, slapping the rump of one of the four horses fixed to my sleigh and shouting, “Yah!”
All four horses burst forward and the straps in my hands started slipping so I gripped them tight and with my new husband at my side, me in a sleigh, we rushed through the snow of the town or city type place and right the fuck out of it and into a forest.
Oh.
Shit.
Chapter Four
Home Sweet Home
Needless to say, since I’d never driven one, I didn’t know how to steer a sleigh.
And also needless to say, my new husband frowned on this.
So after we cleared town on a fast gallop and kept on going like the devil himself was at our heels and my sleigh kinda went awry a couple of times, necessitating my new husband on his mighty beast circling it closely to right its course, after which, each time, he aimed a ferocious scowl at me that made my heart skip and not in a good way, I learned quick.
Eventually, we slowed to a fast trot and as I got the hang of things, I had a look around the sleigh. First, there were some hooks in the panel in front of me so I secured the reins to them and quickly donned my cloak and pulled on my gloves mostly because it was bitter cold and I was freezing my ass off. My dress was awesome and it was velvet but I’d never experienced a cold that cold and I never thought I’d say it or even think it but I needed fur.
I sat down and saw a big fur blanket on the floor of the sleigh in front of me and also a furry, white hat had fallen there. I exchanged the crown for the hat and pulled the blanket on top of me, shoving it under my ass to tuck it secure as high as I could get it around my body. Then I secured the crown as best I could in the open sleigh.
Better.
Then I grabbed the reins again and took stock.
I had four, beautiful dapple gray horses pulling me and behind me in the sleigh there was a shiny, black piece of fabric with what appeared in the forest-muted moonlight a gold and red crest stitched into it stretched over a bunch of bulky stuff and held down with gleaming, gold, what looked like silk ropes.