Page 48 of Alliance Bride
He pinned his fiery gaze back on Sig. His hand tremored as if it took every ounce of strength to stay the blade.
She held her breath.
Then, slowly, he pulled the blade away and stepped back, reaching out his free hand to draw her back with him. Sig slumped against the pillar, blood oozing into his collar.
Aevar pointed the tip of his blade at his face, his voice ice-cold. “Come near my wife again, and Iwillkill you.”
Sig swiped at the blood, glancing at the stain on his fingers. His gaze flicked to Aevar, then to her. The way his attention lingered chilled her to the core. Then he shoved away from the pillar and sauntered off as if nothing had happened.
Only after he’d disappeared around the corner did Aevar turn to her. His face was a mask of fury, and his chest rose and fell in sharp breaths. He didn’t speak for a moment, just stared at her, his hand still clenched tight around the hilt of his blade.
“Did he hurt you?” The words were low and sharp.
She almost flinched. “No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. What you saw is all he did.”
He didn’t relax. His jaw twitched, and he shot another glare in the direction Sig had gone that burned with the kind of ragethat stole the moisture from her throat. What if he somehow blamed her for what had happened?
“I swear to you,” she said quickly, “I did not invite or welcome his advances.”
His eyes snapped back to hers. Something unreadable rested there, hot and dangerous and heavy with unspoken things. She couldn’t tell what it meant. He gave a single stiff nod and slid his knife back into its sheath, the snap echoing too loudly in the stillness. Then he gestured for her to walk ahead of him.
They moved in silence. With every step, the tension rolled off of him like a storm barely held in check. He didn’t look at her. Didn’t say a word. And that, more than anything, weighed on her. She didn’t know what he was thinking. Didn’t know if he was angry only at Sig, or if he reserved part of that wrath for her. He wasn’t like her father. She knew that. But the silence made her doubt. Just a little.
By the time they reached the longhouse, the uncertainty had stretched her nerves thin. Inga and Ranvi looked up from the hearth when they entered, and their conversation halted at the sight of them.
Inga rose. “What happened?”
“Sig is here.” Aevar spat his name like a curse.
Inga’s face changed in an instant. Her gaze darted to Eadlyn, but Aevar spoke again.
“Take care of her.” He ground the words out and turned, marching out of the hall.
Eadlyn stood frozen, afraid of what he might do. A gentle touch on her arm brought her back. Inga was watching her now.
“What did he do to you?” The whisper of ice in her voice suggested she endorsed any violent actions Aevar might take.
Eadlyn swallowed hard. “Nothing beyond grabbing me, but he threatened worse.”
Just saying it caused her stomach to lurch toward her throat. She wrapped her arms around herself as the chill crept back in.
Inga’s jaw flexed, but her voice softened. “Come. Sit by the fire.”
Flames still smoldered in Aevar’s chest, ready to ignite the moment he laid eyes on Sig again. Every part of him burned with the need to hunt the man down and finish what he had started. Had Sig harmed Eadlyn or laid more than a hand on her, Aevar would not have hesitated to take his head off right there in the street. However, since he’d stopped him, simply killing him was not within the law.
Challenging him to aholmgangto the death was his next option. A challenge he would have already issued if Sig had been any other man. But the fact that he was Staegar’s heir twisted justice into something far more complicated, and Aevar knew better than to make a decision when his blood still roared in his ears.
He strode toward the training field. Kian, his father, and his brothers were there with the huskarls. Ingvald, who had alerted him that Sig had been spotted in the village, lingered nearby. They all turned as Aevar approached.
“Sig put his hands on Eadlyn.” The words ripped from his mouth.
Fathir’s face darkened. “Just now?”
Aevar nodded.
