Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
“We will talk later, Ingrid,” Raff said, not leaving it an option.
“Come for supper,” she said just as eager to speak with him.
“Aye,” he said with a smile and a nod, having had supper with her most nights, but this night would be different. They would need to talk more seriously.
Ingrid’s glance followed him as he hurried back to his chores.
“You’re not the only woman who watches him.”
Ingrid turned, her cheeks holding a hint of color.
“It’s about time you admit how much Raff means to you.”
“It’s a meal, Edith, nothing more,” Ingrid insisted. “Besides, he has supper with me frequently.”
“It’s more than supper you should be having with him,” Edith said, “You should handfast with him before winter sets in, then as soon as a cleric passes through the village, wed him. He’s a good man, don’t lose him.”
Ingrid smiled. “He is a good man.”
“Then what are you waiting for? Everyone sees how you look at each other, how you often clasp hands, and some have even seen you share a kiss or two. Be done with it and handfast. The man is completely irresistible.” She chuckled. “I don’t know how you can keep your hands off him.”
“He is a fine-looking man,” Ingrid agreed, her cheeks blushing since her hands did itch to touch him.
“Well, don’t you let that fine-looking man get away. The winter is drawing near, and I bet he’d set that empty bed of yours on fire when he crawled into it.”
“Edith!” Ingrid scolded, her cheeks flushing hotter from the image that struck her of Raff naked in her bed.
“Don’t take your time deciding about him or another woman will scoop him up fast enough,” Edith cautioned before spotting her husband and hurrying over to him.
Ingrid glanced around and caught many a woman, married or not, admiring Raff, and Edith’s warning lingered on her mind as she went to her cottage to set supper to cooking.
CHAPTER 12
The cold stream ran swift over Raff’s hands, its bite sharp as he cupped the water and splashed it over his face. The sun dipped low behind the hills, gilding the treetops in gold while shadows gathered beneath. He rubbed the back of his neck, water dripping from his hair, and straightened slowly, eyes narrowing, and ears picking up a rustle.
His warrior senses warned him that someone was nearby. He scanned the opposite bank just beyond the bend where the bracken thickened, and the pines grew close, and spotted a figure cloaked in black.
A chill threaded down his spine, not from the cold water dripping along his chest, but from the certainty in his gut.
It was the witch.
“What do you want?” he called out, his voice steady but taut with warning.
The figure did not move at first. It remained as still as a statue. Then came the whisper, like a breeze through the trees, low and commanding.
“You made a wish, warrior. Do you regret it?”
He clenched his jaw. “I wish I’d never made it.”
A faint laugh answered him, hollow and humorless. “Yet you’ve gained more than most men ever dream.”
“Gained?” Raff snapped. He stepped forward, fists curling. “I lost everything.”
“You got what you wanted… your freedom,” she said. “It isn’t my fault you didn’t give it more thought before you requested it.”
“You’re right,” Raff said, nodding. “It is my fault. I never gave thought to the cost of complete freedom, having no responsibilities, no family to care for me, no one to look after, keep safe, no one to love… until now.”
“You have fallen in love?” she asked. “What nonsense is this?”
His body tingled with a strange strength and a sense of hope. “It seems that love is stronger than evil.”
“Who is this woman who defies my power?” she demanded.
“If you so much as come near her, I will hunt you down. Witch or no witch, I’ll not rest until I see you gone from this land,” he threatened, with an intensity that left no room for doubt.
“You fear for her.”
“Your evil presence has already put her in harm’s way, some believing her a witch simply because she is a talented weaver. What brings you here? What evil deeds have you done that brings misfortune to the innocent?”
“So, it is Ingrid you love.”
His chest tightened hearing her speak the name. “Fair warning, witch, harm her in any way and you will die by my hand.”
“So bold. So foolish.” The figure tilted her head, the hood falling slightly to reveal a pale cheek and the shadow of a smile. “But I have already touched her fate.”
He surged forward a step, fury raw in his chest. “You’ll touch nothing of hers. She’s mine to protect. And I will protect her. No matter what dark bargain you struck, no matter what curse you carry, I will not let you take her from me.”
Silence fell like a blade between them. The stream babbled on, uncaring, while birds ceased their evening songs.