Page 131 of Ironling
Hakon stepped through the others, forcing Connor and Sorcha out of his way. He pulled Brenna back by her shoulder, not roughly but firmly enough to make the older woman move. She sputtered as he separated her from Aislinn, clawing at his hand.
“How dare you?” she howled.
“You don’t touch her,” Hakon growled back.
He pulled Aislinn deeper into the room and into his arms. With a shuddering gasp, she collapsed against him, taking great fistfuls of his tunic. Her body wracked with sobs, he stood with her for agonizingly long minutes, her cries echoing in the silent storeroom.
The others looked on with mixed expressions, concern and disbelief coloring their faces. Brenna scowled at him, trying to hover nearby, but whenever she got too close, he bared his tusks at her. Even Sorcha, her hands up in placation, he rebuffed.
Her fault. She laid this weight upon Aislinn’s shoulders.
“Hakon, enough,” Orek warned him in orcish.
“You saw what she did to her. You saw her lay hands on my mate,” Hakon hissed.
Take her and run. They don’t understand. They can’t keep her safe.
A red haze gathered along the fringes of his vision.
His hold tightened as her tears wetted his shirt. The sounds of her despair gutted him, and he walked the knife’s edge of his control. One sudden movement, one wrong word and he would lose himself to the berserker rage.
Giving up on Hakon, Brenna instead tried to edge closer to Aislinn and penetrate her tears. “Stop this now,” she said, more softly this time. “Tell the orc to let go of you. Here, dry your tears.” And she pulled a kerchief from her pocket to hand to Aislinn.
But his mate didn’t see, her face buried in his chest.
“We’ve all had enough of your comfort, chatelain.”
Brenna’s lips thinned. “How dare you? She is the heiress, and you—you’re a blacksmith. Let her go this moment.”
He did no such thing.
When Brenna opened her mouth to spit more fire, Fia laid a gentle hand on her arm.
The room dissolved again into silence, which suited Hakon just fine. Keeping an eye on the others, he turned more of his attention to his mate, offering what comfort he could. A soft purr, just for her, not loud enough to hear, rumbled in his chest.
Dropping his head nearer hers, he whispered, “It’s all right,vinya.I have you.”
He didn’t know what had drawn the sudden fit—didn’t really care, either. He could guess.
She’d been playing for time, but it’d just run out.
After long moments of soothing strokes up and down her back and whispered promises in the warm well of air they shared, Aislinn’s sobs began to abate. She took great gulps of air to stop the shuddering, and soon he heard her exhales take on a pattern as she blew air through her mouth. He joined her, matching his breath with hers, and together they breathed.
She stopped trembling.
Aislinn picked up her head from his chest and looked at him with puffy, reddened eyes. He swiped his thumb along her cheek, catching the last of her tears.
“Jerrod is coming,” she murmured.
Hakon could only nod.
So be it.
Her face crumpled with the truth Connor had brought, but she didn’t let herself fall back into tears.
“I have to tell them.”
Hakon’s grip tightened. “Send someone else,” he begged her. She needed rest and comfort, a night of soft blankets and deep sleep to meet the troubles of tomorrow.
