Kristen Ashley - Wildest Dreams

But we will communicate when that time comes.

In the meantime, I wish you great adventures with your adventurer, Seoafin. From the communications you sent me, it seems you will fit The Drakkar well.

I do hope that is true.

Yours,

Sjofn

Okay, so she didn’t want to totally play me, but still, she played me. I had been very forthcoming with her about why I wanted the switch so clearly she’d been (kind of) matchmaking at the same time looking out for herself. She had not been as forthcoming with me including news about her upcoming nuptials and her Mom and Dad not being her biggest fans and the duty she had to her country.

It would have been nice to have a choice and know what I was dealing with prior to having to deal with it.

But I had to admit, reading about the Raiders/Voyagers, the thought that that man was one of them was intriguing. I had the sense from the books that their lifestyle was romanticized more than a little bit (again, carefully selected by Sjofn, no doubt in order to call to my own spirit for adventure, something I’d shared with her). But their adventures on the seas, their wide travels, the people they had to meet, the things they saw… well, I was me, the adventurer daughter of two adventurers.

I couldn’t say Sjofn was wrong about that.

Still, she could have warned me including the fact that she had told him about herself and that he clearly had not reacted well to this news. Unless she had done it while drunk off her ass and didn’t remember which seemed to be the case.

Nevertheless, he was gone, I was here, I was on my adventure and, as I always did, I was sucking all I could get from it. I had my cozy little rustic-chic cabin. I could bake an amazing pecan pie with a fantastic, flaky crust in an old-fashioned oven (and I bet none of my girlfriends at home could pull off something like that and Claudia had proved she could cook on anything, campfire, camp stove, underground hot stones, anything). I had my own personal hot springs. I had a fat, purry cat to cuddle (that I hoped Valentine could get home with me when I went back). And when I was tired of my own company, I had four horses to choose to ride and a town full of people to chat with.

I was totally set and having a fabulous time.

And I couldn’t wait to tell Claudia, though I told myself I wouldn’t rub her nose in it.

I expertly shuffled the cards, my eyes on them, as I suggested, “How about I teach you boys poker?”

Although I suggested it, I didn’t know how I was going to do it considering they didn’t have the same face cards. They had diamonds but they had no hearts, clubs or spades, instead they had stars, moons and daggers. But the deck started at a dash or “naught” and also had ones, a ghost card and a sorceress card so I figured we could make ones aces and naughts, ghosts and sorceresses could be face cards.

As I was deciding this, I realized none of the boys had said anything so I looked up.

It was then I belatedly felt the air in the pub which was wired.

And it was then I belatedly noticed that Ulysses, Frederick and Laurel were all looking in the direction of the door.

And that was when I felt a weird, pulsing and warm but very scary energy beating at my back.

Shit, Dad had always told me never sit with your back to the door. And there I was, like Wild Bill Hickock before he bought it, sitting with my stupid back to the door.

Slowly, I turned in my chair. Equally slowly, my eyes drifted up the so dark brown it was nearly black clothing, taking in the knife belt (with knives), leather band across the wide chest, slanted cloak made of hides and angled sword at the back of my now heavily bearded husband.

He was scowling at me.

I was fighting for breath.

Shit!

What did I do now?

I instantly realized my mistake of not, perhaps, taking some time away from enjoying my parallel universe adventure and, say, preparing for his return, considering the fact he told me he would be returning. I realized this as my eyes flicked beyond him and I saw about seven men, all smaller than him (not by much) all dressed a lot like him, all sporting thick beards, all having hair (of a variety of colors) that needed a cut, all of them scary and all of their eyes were on me.

This must be some of his Raider brethren.

Ho boy.

I pulled in a deep breath to fill my lungs.

Then I smiled huge and called, “Hi honey! I see you’re home.”

There was some movement around me but not much as that weird, pulsing, warm, very scary energy filled the pub until it was suffocating.

Then he growled at me across the expanse, “Wife, arse over here.”

Hmm. Not sure I liked that.

Nope, I was wrong. I was sure I didn’t like that.

Nevertheless, he was twice the size of me and he had seven men of much the same size behind him. I had Frederick, Ulysses and Laurel. Sure, Ulysses was the blacksmith and he had forearms the size of anvils (and likely the consistency, though I hadn’t checked), but Frederick and Laurel were lightweights compared to the Raider Party.

And I liked them, I knew they liked me, we’d had some good times, but we weren’t exactly BFFs (yet) so I wasn’t certain they’d wade in for me.

Not with these guys.

It was probably best that I got my arse over there.

I nodded to Drakkar and turned, putting down the cards.

“Thanks guys, see you all later,” I muttered, grabbed my little, satin, drawstring bag off the table, decided to let my winnings sit where they were and with some haste I stood, snatched my cloak off the back of my chair and moved quickly, trying to do it without appearing like I was moving quickly, through the silent pub, taking every step with every eye in the place on me.

I wasn’t certain what would happen once I got my arse to him because one could say I didn’t know my husband like, at all, but I would never have been prepared for what did happen.

The minute I was within reach, he reached. Then, with a small, surprised cry, I found myself, ass in the air, over his shoulder. Then I found myself out of the pub and into the cold night. Then I found my ass on my horse and my arms automatically came up quickly to catch the cloak I had lost and he had caught and was now throwing at me.

Then he growled two words, “Arse. Home.”

“But –” I started but didn’t finish.

He lifted a large hand and slapped my gray on the rump, barking, “Yah!” and my gray took off at a full gallop.

I didn’t even have the reins in my hand!

What a fucking dick!

I quickly hooked my leg around the saddle, leaned forward, holding onto the gray around her neck so I wouldn’t fall off, I grabbed the reins then sat back and, as best I could with purse and reins, I flung the fur lined cloak around my shoulders.

Then I rode home and I did this fast. This was because I was pissed way the fuck off and I knew if I didn’t go in that direction, I’d go back to the pub and probably do something that would get me murdered by a giant Viking-type, parallel universe Raider.

So I went home, straight to the stables where I unsaddled and stalled the gray, stomped to the house, stoked up the banked fires, dropped logs on them, lit candles and lamps, climbed up and built a fire in the loft and then I went down the ladder and paced.

What I did not do was calm down.

My husband and I had to get a few things straight.

First was that he didn’t do anything that threatened to break my neck, such as set a horse to full gallop when I was not seated properly and didn’t have hold of the reins.

Second was that he had to stop throwing me on or in some type of transport when I didn’t have anything to shield me from the freezing, arctic, fucking air.

Third was that he was going to hear how I felt about him humiliating me in front of people who were becoming my friends.