in a more usual way. "Dangerous."
The broad shoulders shrugged, muscle expanding and contracting against her skin.
"It is hardly likely to kill me. Besides, there is no time. I have got too much to do."
Her heart twisted. He did not know, or he did not admit, even to himself, how he ate his heart out. That the burden he carried was lethal. He just went on.
Because there was so much to do
. She sought for the words.
"The payment for what happened to your brother lies with me, not you."
The sheet of muscle under her body seemed to change out of recognition, reconstituting itself into one terrifying mass of power. He moved, surging up so that she briefly lost his warmth and then she did not. Because he dragged her with him, his hands digging into her arms. She was sitting up, imprisoned against the solid, remorseless wall of his body. Trapped. But that was not the worst.
She could see his eyes.
"What have you to say of Athelwulf, my brother?"
I caused his death.
She would never be able to get another word out of the dryness of her mouth. She had called up the demons of the past and they were there, in the all-consuming fury of his eyes, bright gold fire, burning, like the heat of his hands on her arms.
Fever heat. And because she knew what had happened she could see past the fury to the pain.
"I am saying that what happened to your brother was my fault, not yours. You rescued me because I thought I did not want to marry Hun. You arranged it all. Paid Hun my wergild, my life-price… Yes, you did. I know it though you did not tell me."
She took a breath. She did not know from the burning, feverish eyes whether he heard her. Whether what she said reached through to the fortress of his mind.
"But Hun broke his word and chose to pursue you anyway, despite the honour payment. You sacrificed everything to take me from Hun, and Hun made King Osred destroy you for it, so that there was only exile."
And death
. "And Athelwulf—"
"My brother chose to save both our hides."
"You did not know what he would do. That he would go back to throw Hun off the scent. It was not your fault Hun caught him."
Killed him, burned the corpse so that there was nothing to be found except bones
. "It was Hun's fault. Mine."
But Brand did not hear her, she knew he did not. What she said meant nothing to the fire in his eyes. She tried again.
"None of this would have happened if I had not thrown myself on your mercy so you had no other choice but to take me from Hun—"
"No other choice? Is that what you think?"
"Yes." It was the truth. Yet she could feel his rapid breath, as he would feel hers. Memory consumed her, and with it all the longing, all the fierce desperation, all the pain. It beat inside her, as though it would not be contained. As though it still existed in the silent Wessex air between them.
She struggled to speak, to go on saying what she must.
"The payment for what happened to your brother is mine, not yours. It is not a payment you can make by throwing your own life away. The guilt is mine."
The power of him, all that savagely leashed intensity would tear the soul out of her.
"Why would you say such a thing?"
Because that much, at least, is truth between us. Because I cannot bear that the weight of guilt that belongs to me should kill you. That is why I ran away from you. That is why I went back to Hun.
I want you to live.
She wanted to shout it out so that it would split the foreign southern air in two. She wanted to say it into the light so that there would be no darkness between them, but she could not. Because if he knew she had cast herself adrift for his sake, he would never leave her. Because he always took her burdens.
She forced breath.
"I can recognize when I have made mistakes. I—" It was impossible to hold his gaze. She had to force the words out of her mouth.
"It was wrong, what I did, escaping with you. Being with you."
His eyes still burned. But differently. He watched her…differently. She
The broad shoulders shrugged, muscle expanding and contracting against her skin.
"It is hardly likely to kill me. Besides, there is no time. I have got too much to do."
Her heart twisted. He did not know, or he did not admit, even to himself, how he ate his heart out. That the burden he carried was lethal. He just went on.
Because there was so much to do
. She sought for the words.
"The payment for what happened to your brother lies with me, not you."
The sheet of muscle under her body seemed to change out of recognition, reconstituting itself into one terrifying mass of power. He moved, surging up so that she briefly lost his warmth and then she did not. Because he dragged her with him, his hands digging into her arms. She was sitting up, imprisoned against the solid, remorseless wall of his body. Trapped. But that was not the worst.
She could see his eyes.
"What have you to say of Athelwulf, my brother?"
I caused his death.
She would never be able to get another word out of the dryness of her mouth. She had called up the demons of the past and they were there, in the all-consuming fury of his eyes, bright gold fire, burning, like the heat of his hands on her arms.
Fever heat. And because she knew what had happened she could see past the fury to the pain.
"I am saying that what happened to your brother was my fault, not yours. You rescued me because I thought I did not want to marry Hun. You arranged it all. Paid Hun my wergild, my life-price… Yes, you did. I know it though you did not tell me."
She took a breath. She did not know from the burning, feverish eyes whether he heard her. Whether what she said reached through to the fortress of his mind.
"But Hun broke his word and chose to pursue you anyway, despite the honour payment. You sacrificed everything to take me from Hun, and Hun made King Osred destroy you for it, so that there was only exile."
And death
. "And Athelwulf—"
"My brother chose to save both our hides."
"You did not know what he would do. That he would go back to throw Hun off the scent. It was not your fault Hun caught him."
Killed him, burned the corpse so that there was nothing to be found except bones
. "It was Hun's fault. Mine."
But Brand did not hear her, she knew he did not. What she said meant nothing to the fire in his eyes. She tried again.
"None of this would have happened if I had not thrown myself on your mercy so you had no other choice but to take me from Hun—"
"No other choice? Is that what you think?"
"Yes." It was the truth. Yet she could feel his rapid breath, as he would feel hers. Memory consumed her, and with it all the longing, all the fierce desperation, all the pain. It beat inside her, as though it would not be contained. As though it still existed in the silent Wessex air between them.
She struggled to speak, to go on saying what she must.
"The payment for what happened to your brother is mine, not yours. It is not a payment you can make by throwing your own life away. The guilt is mine."
The power of him, all that savagely leashed intensity would tear the soul out of her.
"Why would you say such a thing?"
Because that much, at least, is truth between us. Because I cannot bear that the weight of guilt that belongs to me should kill you. That is why I ran away from you. That is why I went back to Hun.
I want you to live.
She wanted to shout it out so that it would split the foreign southern air in two. She wanted to say it into the light so that there would be no darkness between them, but she could not. Because if he knew she had cast herself adrift for his sake, he would never leave her. Because he always took her burdens.
She forced breath.
"I can recognize when I have made mistakes. I—" It was impossible to hold his gaze. She had to force the words out of her mouth.
"It was wrong, what I did, escaping with you. Being with you."
His eyes still burned. But differently. He watched her…differently. She
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