Page 137 of Shadow Queen
“I’m not here to play games, Northman,” she seethed. “I’ve been sent by the lord commander to aid your failing Bear.”
That certainly sounded like the lord commander. “Then perhaps you might lower your blade from his neck.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re the Bear?”
He gave an ever so slight nod of his head.
“You don’t look like a bear.”
“So I’ve been told.”
She eyed him suspiciously as she needled the tip of her blade into his skin.
“Do you mean to draw blood?” he asked her.
Her eyes smiled. “Consider it a proper Kharavian greeting.” Slowly, she withdrew the blade and took a step back, still eyeing him as if deciding whether to obey her orders or kill him.
“I knew this was a mistake,” Edward called from behind them. “We don’t need the help of heathens! Send them back.”
They did need the help, heathens or no, but were the Shadowmen really here to help them? Alexander supposed he’d find out.
Alexander stood in his bath chamber. He leaned forward and tilted his head in the mirror, eyeing the mark still on his skin from the Shadow woman’s blade. She’d cut him. It was a small break in the skin, but she’d actually cut him—in the middle of his own courtyard, surrounded by his own men. He pulled on a shirt over his head and tucked it into his breeches, but then he couldn’t help but be drawn back to the mirror and the mark on his neck. She’dactuallycut him.
Of course the lord commander would send her—a woman like that. No doubt she’d give him more than a small cut if he wasn’t careful. Perhaps he might want to sleep with one eye open. He pushed out a breath and finished dressing. The best he could do was resolve whoever was attacking the Mercian villages, and send her and the Shadow army back to the Shadowlands.
He walked out to the barracks and a tented station beyond where the Shadow soldiers were settling. Two thousand men were a lot to house, but it was only for the evening, until he dispersed them out to their assignments. Now to find this woman…
It didn’t prove difficult. As he reached the Shadow army, she stepped out to meet him. Her eyes were large and dark and steeped in distrust. “Have you come with your orders, Bear?” she asked with daggers in her voice. She didn’t want to be here any more than he wanted her here. Good—she’d be motivated to help him find out who was attacking the villages, end it, and leave.
“What’s your name?” he asked her.
“Captain Katya Sator.”
Captain?Interesting. “Can I call you Katya?”
“No.”
This was going to be challenging. “Very well,Captain.” His gaze traveled down until it met the molded full breasts on her breastplate, and he glanced away.
“You can look,” she taunted. “I worked hard to make it exactly the same.” She stepped closer to him, enjoying his unease.
He met her stare but didn’t let his gaze wander again.
Her eyes smiled. “You don’t like it?”
He didn’t answer.
“I hear Northmen don’t allow themselves pleasures of the flesh if they’re not married. Is this true?” She was purely seeking his discomfort now, trying to get a rise out of him.
And it was working.
She stepped closer. “What’s wrong, Bear? Worried I might corrupt you?”
As if she could. “I’m worried you might like it here and decide to stay,” he quipped back.
She snorted, and her eyes laughed. “If you Northmen are as bad in bed as you are with a sword, you needn’t worry about that.”
He drew in a breath as he leaned back on his heel, and she gave him a cruel wink and stepped around him.
