Page 7 of Master of Storms
And while she was formidable enough to take on her scoundrel mate, she was no match for two powerfuldrekiwarriors.
Instead, she fled.
There would be another day.
And another arrow with his name on it.
She was going to kill that lying, sweet-tongued bastard. And she was going to enjoy it.
* * *
The arrow cameout of nowhere.
Marduk snatched it out of the air, alerted by its hiss. The point almost grazed his chest. Thedrekiinside him roared in fury, but then the scent of his assailant caught his attention.
"Assassin!" Rurik snarled, shoving past him, but Marduk caught his older brother's forearm.
He lifted the arrow to his nose and inhaled.
She smelled like summer storms and turbulent, rushing rivers. He’d never forget that scent. He’d recognize it anywhere. And as he lowered the arrow and raked his gaze over the shale-covered hillside, he couldn’t stop thedrekiinside him from flaring its wings in excitement.
Solveig.
Princess. Warrior. Mate.
Would-be assassin.
Life had just become interesting again.
“What are you doing?” Rurik demanded.
"Relax. I know exactly who it is." He tossed the arrow in the air and caught it. The question was: What was he going to do about it?
Catch her, rasped hisdreki.
If he closed his eyes, he could almost picture what it wanted him to do to her.
He could drop from the skies like a furious bolt of lightning and pin her to the ground. A second to shift back into mortal shape and then she’d be under him, wriggling and furious. A knife in her hand, no doubt, but he’d taken her weapons off her before.
You could kiss her again.
Aye. And she’d rip his throat out if he tried.
The day of their official mating had caught them both by surprise. The second the doors to her chamber closed behind him, she’d turned on him with fury for choosing her as his mate. He’d argued back—she was the one who’d dragged him back to her court in chains, forcing him to fulfill his past obligations—and one thing had led to another.
He’d kissed her.
She’d kissed him back.
And if Haakon, Tormund, and Bryn hadn’t burst into the chambers to rescue him, he’d have probably done a hell of a lot more to her.
He could still taste the furious caress of her mouth, and even though it had been months since he’d escaped her court—and their mating—she haunted him each and every night.
“Who is it?” Rurik demanded.
“Princess Solveig of theSaduclan.”
“That's Solveig?"
