Page 17 of Pride: The Rogue
“…Wakey, wakey, sunshine…”
Verity hadn’t woken her with that warm, maternal, greeting for years.
Only, this morning awakening hadn’t been in her sister’s light, airy, tones. And it hadn’t been ‘wakey, wakey, sunshine’, but wakey, wakey…You’re Royal Hi…”
Royal?
Livian slogged her way through exhausted confusion.
That isn’t Verity.
Suddenly, a blast of cold struck her.
“Fuuuuck.”
Thatvulgar curse brought Livian crashing back down to Earth.
Fully awake, she stared up at the living, breathing monster of a man in the flesh, bearing over her.
Oh, God.
Her heart hammered and she made herself absolutely still.
He’d entered the wrong rooms. This Viking warrior resurrected from the dead and haunter of her rented accommodations had gotten lost, and…
Her belly contracted.
Which meant he was drunk.
Livian took in the muscular stranger’s stunned expression, and using the skills her brother-in-law taught, took advantage of his brief paralysis.
When most anyone else would have rolled in the opposite direction, Livian, rolled quickly toward him. Cursing the hemof her night skirts which briefly hampered her movements, she managed to get her foot out in time.
Her foot collided squarely with the dastard’s member.
A sharp hiss exploded from between his teeth, and he brought his hands up to cover himself.
Briefly thrown off by the fact the stranger hadn’t crumpled into a ball as Malcom ensured he would, she drew her foot back again.
And before he could cover his wounded organ, Livian delivered another, even more solid kick between his legs.
This time, he crumpled to his knees. Even reduced in height as that disadvantage left him, the beast was still nearly eye-level with her.
“…Do not let up, Livvie…Keep hammering him, until he’s out cold…”
Her brother-in-law’s reminders about assailants fueled her movements.
Bringing back her arm, she delivered a solid, right hook.
Instead of Livian’s attack further staggering her assailant, his body tensed like her blows only made him stronger.
Gasping and out of breath, both from the fight and fear, Livian struck him again.
“Would you quit, you bloody ruthless chit,” he hissed.
Livian’s sinister assailant speaking, only made him—and his attack—more real. Her terror spiraled. “Never!” she rasped.
The moment he grabbed for her hand to intercept another assault on his face, Livian brought her knee up to catch him in the stomach.
