Page 104 of North Queen
“Why are we both without clothes?” she demanded.
“They were wet, and you needed to be warmed skin to skin. Do you not know how to survive a north storm,NorthQueen?” he taunted her.
Norah snorted, astounded at his brazenness.
The commander stood, again not bothering to cover himself. She averted her eyes, pulling the blanket up higher. He walked over to her shirt on the floor, picking it up and dropping it on the bed.
She grabbed it and pulled it quickly over her head, trying to keep herself covered with the blanket. Her underwear was still on, she noted, appreciative of the small assurance that he hadn’t been entirely free with her.
“I want my breeches,” she said.
He nodded to them lying across a chair by the fire, along with his own clothes. “They’re not dry. You’ll have to wait.”
The commander sat on the edge of the bed, and she pulled her feet away from him, tucking her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs. He gazed at her hands and then reached out and grabbed one. Norah tried to jerk it back, but he held it firmly. She struck him in his face with her other hand and he let out a growl. She tried to strike him again, but he caught her wrist and pulled her closer. Redness rose on his cheek from her blow.
“Let go of me!” she spat.
He ignored her and pulled her hands up, looking closely at her fingertips.
“What are you doing?” she hissed.
He grasped her face as she tried to bat him away, but he pulled her closer, looking carefully over her.
“The winter didn’t eat your skin,” he said. “You’re lucky.”
“That’s the opposite of what I would consider myself right now,” she said shortly, finally beating him back.
He released her. “You should be thanking me you’re alive.”
She snorted in disbelief. “I should be thanking you for saving me from a situation you put me in to begin with? And only to kill me later?”
Irritation flashed across his face, and he turned away from her. “Who is Alexander?” he asked.
Her eyes darted up to him, and her pulse quickened. “Why do you ask this?”
“Because it’s what you called me… before you kissed me.” He gave a cruel grin in satisfaction at the horror on her face.
“I did not!” she hissed.
He chuckled. “You were on your way to marry the Aleon king, but you love another. A secret love?” he taunted.
“Like your love for the king?” she spat back.
The commander jerked his head up in surprise. His smile faded. “Of course, I love Salar,” he said. “As any warrior should.”
“Except your love is different,” she challenged.
His jaw tensed, and he shot her a look she hadn’t expected—fear. It confirmed what she had only suspected. He was in love with the king. A love he hid, a twin to her own tragedy. She felt a pang of sympathy for him, but that sympathy was short-lived.
“Does he know?” she needled, still angry at his impudence. “I imagine that might change things between you two.”
He lunged forward, pinning her to the bed with a fiery rage. His skin burned with the heat of fight, and his hand clenched her at the base of her neck with a force that made her struggle to breathe.
“Is this where you remind me how you can kill me?” she said through her teeth.
He ran his hand higher around her neck.
“Do it,” she seethed. What did it matter anymore? If death was to come, better not to wait in fear.
