Page 107 of Ironling
“I may be of some help,” said Allarion, stepping forward with Sorcha. “I am ready to defend my new home. But I must caution you, my magic is still…unsteady. For now, I fear it is only my sword I can offer.”
“That’s very generous. I hope I don’t have to take you up on your offer, but…”
“I know nothing of your brother, but I do know that those who feel they have had something stolen from them find it difficult to let it go. Let us hope your brother is wiser.”
Aislinn managed a weak smile in agreement, but she feared her own concern was plain on her face.
Jerrod wasn’t that wise. That he’d run away at all and sought the help of mercenaries showed just how stupid he could be.
No, what Aislinn worried over was just how much his stupidity could cost them all.
“Let us hope,” she said. Even if it was for naught.
What she did know was that this was the last time she let Jerrod’s stupidity hurt her, their father, and the people of the Darrowlands. Brother or no, blood or no, Aislinn was done.
25
Hakon stood with Orek under the eaves of the smithy, watching the rain splatter on the cobblestones. The sweetness of the warm cider one of the lads had fetched them all from the kitchen warmed his mouth, a counterpoint to the damp cool of the rain, but Hakon barely felt the burn.
The rain came down in heavy sheets, obscuring the castle walls just across the bailey. The torrential sound of it filled Hakon’s ears with a thick buzzing, and the gray damp matched his mood.
“Aislinn hardly comes to the dining hall. She’s not eating,” he told his friend in orcish. Although the new orcess blacksmith, Edda, could understand them, he thought the pounding rain would dull their words—if her enthusiastic hammering didn’t already.
“The womenfolk are seeing to her,” Orek assured him.
Not as well as I could.Hakon saw the strain around her eyes and mouth. The burdens she carried were beginning to crush her, and it drove him mad having to stand to the side and watch it.
It was only a little comfort that she had Sorcha with her. She and Orek had taken up residence in the castle for the time being to help Aislinn with whatever she needed. For the most part, that seemed for Sorcha to be as a companion; Orek offered his help and brawn wherever it was needed but stuck mostly with Hakon in the smithy. She had Fia, too, the maid acting more as a seneschal and messenger. Aislinn was always guarded by at least two knights, even if they weren’t obvious or close beside her.
So many people to perform my duties. I should comfort her. I should protect her. I…
It was a mate’s due and duty.
Yet, she wasn’t his mate. Not truly. In his heart and mind, she of course was. But he’d never explained the bond to her. She’d never accepted his claim.
He’d gambled and lost.
With guards everywhere and the staff steeped with suspicion after the announcement of Jerrod’s scheming, there weren’t opportunities to see her. Being somewhere he shouldn’t was noticed. Her guards would follow dutifully if she came to his chamber as she used to.
He wasn’t afraid of wagging tongues, and he’d be a liar if he said being kept a secret didn’t rankle. Hakon understood, though, that she was the one with everything to lose, and he’d never accept being a liability to her. If it was safer for her to keep away, he understood.
He didn’t like it.
He didn’t want it.
He understood why the separation had to be—but that didn’t mean not having her near didn’t drive him to insanity. All day and each night, the unfulfilled mate-bond clawed at his guts. If he allowed it, a keening whine escaped his chest, a pathetic sound the exact pitch of his longing for her.
Fearghas and Caitlín had insisted he take a break aftershattering his second metal plate of the day. Caitlín was an orderly sort and didn’t appreciate his mistakes. Her partner, Edda, likely suspected something as an orcess herself, and looked on sympathetically when he grumbled over his distracted work.
“They must have her rest. This is too much for one soul, they must make her—”
“You know as well as I do that there’s no making Aislinn do anything she doesn’t want,” said Orek.
Hakon gritted his tusks. He did know that. He also knew that if it was for her benefit, Aislinn had to be made to rest and eat and calm herself.
A sucking, sick feeling took root in his gut thinking of her crying in the rose garden. Had she had another fit?
His chest ached with needing to hold and comfort her, to feel her skin against his and have her scent soaking his senses. He understood the distance but didn’t know how long he could bear it.
