Lord of Hawkfell Island by Catherine Coulter

heavy. She tasted fear in her mouth. Fear and hatred of him and resolve that her rape wouldn’t be easy for him, that she would hurt him badly if she could. She heard him brush against his trunk that sat at the foot of the bed. She was ready for him, she had to be.
    He was standing next to her, bending down over her, saying nothing, but she heard his breathing. Suddenly, he grabbed the blanket and wrapped it tightly around her, trapping her arms. He lifted her and tossed her onto the floor beside the bed.
    She landed on her side, stunned and winded.
    He threw another blanket on top of her.
    He said nothing more. She heard him ease down onto the bed, heard him draw in a deep breath, then he was silent.
    Then he laughed, and it was a rich mocking laugh.
    A knife, she thought, if only she had a knife.
    â€œYou thought I would rape you,” he said, and laughed again. “Rape you ? Even though you’re clean and more sweet-smelling than otherwise, I doubt I could haveforced myself to take you, you who are nothing more than an ill-tempered witch. I’d rather be forced to plow an old crone than to plow your belly. You’re so fond of your brother, you who would do anything for Einar, a swine who deserves the cruelest of deaths. Do you lust after him, your own kin? Is that why you’re still unwed? Perhaps he has already bedded you. You aren’t young, after all. Does he hold you above his other whores?”
    It was odd, she thought, as she rose silently to her feet. So very odd that it would happen now, that he would taunt her beyond what she could bear. She wrapped the blanket around her and walked to the entrance. She pulled the hide aside. A small sliver of light shone in. She wondered where Kerzog was and what he would do. Would he kill her, his fangs buried in her throat?
    It was then that Rorik heard her. He said loud and clear, “Do not leave this chamber, damn you. Get back here or it will go badly for you.”
    She ignored him, something she knew had never happened to him in his life, and walked into the outer room, still filled with the dying warmth from the fire pit. She breathed in the light smell of smoke, thinning out now, until the morrow when the fire pit was lit again, the room filling once more with smoke turning the air a pale blue. There was snoring coming from all the benches along the walls. She saw Kerzog sleeping by the fire pit. He raised his head and looked at her. Then he lowered his head and went back to sleep. He was indeed a ferocious animal, she thought as she kept walking. Then she broke into a run, for he was behind her now.
    She dashed to the doors, and heaved up the heavy wooden cross-beam. She couldn’t manage it.
    She heard him behind her and she jerked up with all her strength. The cross beam flew upward and fell to the side with a heavy thud. She shoved open the door and dashed outside.
    She stumbled on the blanket, falling to her knees. She was up in a flash, running, ignoring the pebbles and shards of wood that dug into her bare feet. She heard him behind her, but he wasn’t saying anything now. No, this chase was a silent one, one that would end with her death.
    There were four guards at the huge gates of the palisade. They saw her coming, saw Lord Rorik behind her, naked.
    They didn’t move. They said nothing. It was as if she were alone with him.
    Rorik caught her hair and stopped. She cried out with the burning pain and fell back against his chest.
    He wrapped the thick hair around his wrist again and again, until her head was pressed tight against his shoulder.
    â€œYou wish to relieve yourself again?”
    He sounded calm, not at all angry, but she wasn’t fooled. He would kill her.
    â€œNay,” she said, gritting her teeth against the pain as he again tightened her hair around his hand. “Nay, I wanted to escape you, to force you to catch me and kill me cleanly. But that isn’t your way, is it? You would prefer to