Page 10 of Wolf's Redemption

Bek fumed, as the sting of his slap heated her cheek and dampened her knickers. She had little choice except to do as he asked as they climbed the steps. She’d bide her time. He’d have to put her down at some point. Then she’d show him what sassy really was.

Chapter Five

“Be a good girl now, while I get us out of here,” Ulrik cajoled, his hand still carrying the memory of her lush ass beneath his palm.

“Be a good… Oooh! Go to hell.”

Ulrik halted on the stairs, grinning at her indignation, and slapped her hard on the ass. Again.

“Stop doing that.”

He did it once more, wishing he had the time to strip her bare right here, right now. Would her ass be nice and pink? He stifled a groan at the erotic image that flashed through his mind.

“Iswearyou’re going to pay for that.”

He chuckled. “Oh, sweetness, I will hold you to your vow. And I think I shall much enjoy paying your price.”

She punched him in the kidney, one handed this time, and he grunted. She had a surprisingly good arm on her. Gael had found that out to his detriment. But it had not come without cost, if the scent of her blood and the way she favored her right hand were any indication. He would see to her injury once they were clear of the keep.

“Careful, little one. You do not want to hurt your other hand.”

On impulse, and because it was beyond him to resist taunting her, he turned his head and bit down on her hip.

She stiffened against him, the bitter scent of her fear lacing the air.

He froze.L’enfer.He was such a fool. Only moments ago she had faced down Gael, prepared to fight as he had never beforeseen from a human woman, rather than have the guard’s base intentions forced on her. Now, herehewas, taking liberties and touching her in ways that could only constitute sexual interest. He was behaving no better than the dead guard. Were his mother alive, she would have strung him up by his innards.

He heaved in a breath and released it on a heavy sigh. “My apologies. It was uncouth of me to touch you as I have. You have every right to protest. I am sorry. I vow to you it will not happen again.”

Silence weighed heavily between them. He could only imagine the confusion on her face. She shifted uneasily, her thighs clamping together.

Ulrik suppressed a grin. “Unless you ask it of me.”

“Dream on,” she muttered.

Ulrik chuckled. No matter her words, her body did not lie. He continued his ascent, amused by her curses. Curses inventive and crude enough to make even the coarsest of brigands blush.

He paused at the top of the stairs and reached out with his senses, his wolf’s familiar presence once again filling his mind. The skin on his wrists and neck tingled as they healed, the welts on his fingers from handling the silver key already gone. Around his neck hung the familiar weight of an amulet. Not his, but the binding amulet he had scooped up from the floor. Lothair might come to regret throwing it at his feet.

Tilting his nose up, he scented the room above. Empty. He had doubted there were more guards. If there had been, the ruckus they had made below would have drawn them, but it never hurt to be cautious.

Ulrik pushed on the grate, its hinges screeching in protest, and stepped into the lit room. He breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with fresh, if pungent, air and the intoxicating scent of the woman over his shoulder. It felt good to be out of that hole, no longer bound in silver. Even better with his present company.He rubbed his hand against the back of her leg, careful to keep it low, near her knee and away from the enticing aroma wafting from between her thighs. She rewarded him with another shriek all the same.

He grinned. He was beginning to see the appeal of a woman with attitude. This one breathed fire.

He glanced about the room. An interrupted game of dice lay spread on the table with a few coins and a wineskin. In the corner sat his sword and scabbard, his mail, his surcoat and his daggers. It had taken four men, even in his weakened state, to wrest him from his armor. He may have chosen to step into the wolfsbane trap, but he had not been willing to go down without a fight.

He hastened over, exchanging the guard’s sword for his own of far superior quality, and palmed his best dagger. As an afterthought, he grabbed his surcoat. Barely dressed, it would keep her warm. His hauberk, gambeson, greaves and vambraces, he left behind. Taking them would mean putting her down, and they did not have the time for the struggle that would most definitely ensue.

He slung his surcoat over his shoulder, over her.

She wriggled about. “What the—”

“Grab the coins.” He swung around and dipped at the knees so she could reach them. “We may need them. And the wineskin.”

He definitely needed that. She may, too, when she truly appreciated where she was. From what he remembered of the things Erin had said, future living was a very different affair.

“Geez, when did your last slave die?” But she scooped up the coins, and the weight of the wineskin thumped against his back as she grabbed that, too. “What the hell place is this? Who useswineskinsanymore?”

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