“You’re not scary at all, are you boy?Just misunderstood," she crooned.
If it were possible, Tor would have rolled his eyes.He knelt on the floor, and when she settled gracefully behind his withers, her hands curling in his mane, he trotted toward the hidden tunnel entrance.
When they reached the wide expanse of moonlit beach just beyond the tunnel exit, Brun slid from Tairneanaich’s back and curled her toes in the sand.The cold grit of each pebble grounded her as she closed her eyes and felt the sting of the salt spray on her face.She'd just tilted her head toward the stars when her mate’s arms curled around her waist.
“My beast is as captivated by you as I am,” he murmured as he pushed aside her braids and kissed the side of her neck.
His confession made her blush.Brun had never sought the attention or admiration of others for anything other than her skill on the battlefield, and his praise made her squirm."You exaggerate, husband.We are merely compatible behind closed doors."
"It is more than that, and one day I'll persuade you to admit it."
"Always so sure of your charms," she muttered, even as she relaxed into his embrace.
"It's not charm, Fireheart, it's affinity.Your soul calls to mine as mine does to yours, and I long for the day you can see past your fear."
She tensed in response, because admitting fear meant admitting weakness.She'd learned at a very young age that any weakness was an invitation for others to exploit her."You'll be waiting a very long time, Prince of Seaweed."
He ducked his head, and the shadow of his beard scrubbed against her skin."You always resort to the most ridiculous epithets when you feel threatened."
Brun wasn't accustomed to lighthearted teasing, and even when she knew her husband was goading her, she had no idea how to respond."You've yet to complain of my thorns," she fussed.
He bit the tip of her ear."Nay, I relish them.They make finding your nectar all the sweeter."
Heat spread from her neck to her face, and she elbowed him in the ribs."Do not call it nectar."
His rusty laughter surrounded them."Fine, I'll call it ambrosia."
"That sounds just as insulting," she groused.
"Not an insult, wife," he protested as he latched his arm about her waist and toppled them gently to the shore.
His knees bracketed her waist as he rose above her.The moonlight gleamed over the carved hollows of his naked body, and Brun was compelled to deny the way the sight affected her.
"Prince of Seaweed," she repeated as she wrinkled her nose and tried to dislodge him.
He lowered his body until they were hip to hip, and she could feel him at the juncture of her thighs."Care to repeat that, Cutthroat Maid?"
"No longer a maid," she taunted as she rolled against him."Not in a long while.And certainly not since I welcomed a monster to my bed."
"Prince of Seaweed and Monster," he winced and came to lie beside her, his hand over his eyes."I fear my amorous attentions have sunk me lower in your regard."
Brun turned to face him, pillowing her chin and cheek."Perhaps if you told me more of your history, and the full story of what happened to your brother, I'd be more inclined to welcome your attentions."
He sighed and pinned her with an inscrutable gaze.“You tell me virtually nothing of your sorrows, yet expect me to speak of my deepest wounds?”
Knowing he would relent, Brun kept her silence as he stretched his arms and crossed them behind his head.She studied his hawkish profile and tense jawline, the way his bicep flexed in frustration and his mouth set into a grim line.She waited, because she knew he would answer her questions whether or not she reciprocated with her own admission of vulnerability.
“I was never meant to inherit the throne or rule in my father’s stead.”
She twisted into his side and curled her hand on his chest, urging him to continue.
“My brother Eodhann should be wearing the crown.He was the diplomat and I was the warrior.”
“I don’t think a diplomat would have fared well against your enemies.They seek domination, not negotiation.”
He snorted.“That is true.But nevertheless, I never expected the burden I bear.”
“Where is he?”