The scarred warrior pivoted on his foot to face me. I flinched away from his sharp golden gaze.

“How do I care for him?”

The broken man wheezed behind us. Any other man would be dead from his wounds, and me along with him.

“Keep him comfortable. As much as you can.” Ulf unhooked a small pouch from his belt. “Here. There’s dried meat in there.”

“I don’t know if he should eat—”

“Not for him. For you. Eat and drink if you must, to keep up your strength.” His gaze swept over me, dismissive, even when it lingered on my neckline. I wrapped my arms around my shivering body. My wet shift was near translucent.

With a curse, Ulf handed me a second pouch. “Here’s flint. Build a fire. A small one. I will return once I know this place is secure from our enemies. But then I must hunt and get good bloody meat for Haakon.” His own stomach growled, and I took a step back.

He caught my arm. That same power I felt in Haakon’s touch sizzled through me, settled into the cradle of my hips. My body leaned into him before I could stop it.

“Do I have your word you will not run?” he asked.

I stared up at him. He angled his head so the unmarred side of his face filled my vision. The dark brows and granite jaw were almost handsome.

I had to lick my lips to answer. “If I did, I would not survive long in this wilderness.”

“Promise me you will not,” he ordered.

I did not promise. I had to escape. “Where would I go? I am an orphan girl. I have never even left the abbey overnight. I do not think I will survive.”

His face softened a touch. “We will take care of you. Watch over him. I will return soon.”

“Tell me one thing,” I called again before he could disappear in the darkness. “My friends, the others—did they get out safely?”

“I do not know. I cannot reach the pack. I’m sure some did.”

I gulped.

“Best focus on our own fate.” He nodded to Haakon. “See to him, little fighter.”

“But—” I started, and fell silent when Ulf took my shoulders and turned me to face the suffering warrior. Was it my eyes, or did his bloodied chest fall more shallowly?

When I looked back, Ulf was gone.

“Come here, love,” Haakon coughed. For all I knew it was a dying man's request, so I went closer and knelt. He reached for me and I caught his arm.

“None of your grabbing me,” I scolded. “You must not move. It will disturb your wounds.” Wounds that seemed to be closing before my very eyes, his giant body transforming and reknitting itself. He still looked very bad. I swallowed and held his hand as gently as I could.

“Do you wish for more water?”

“No,” he squeezed my hand. “Just sit with me, please.”

I crouched near him, keeping my eyes on his face so I didn’t have to look at the disaster that was his body. “Forgive me,” I said again. “I never meant to cause you such harm.”

“It was an accident,” he rasped. Sweat beaded on his brow. I lay my hand over it.

“You’re burning up.” My stomach roiled. If fever had already set in, death was sure to follow. “I wish I knew what herbs could help you.” My sister orphans knew more of the healing arts, whereas I only knew how to make a nourishing meal.

“Not a fever. It’s the healing power.”

I watched in awe as a giant wound that yawned on his leg slowly closed, becoming a great shiny weal. “What are you?” I breathed.

“Dangerous,” he said. “No one you'd want to meet on a dark night. Unless you are my true mate,” he raised a brow at me, as if expecting me to challenge him.

I lay his hand down but did not leave his side.

“Why did you come to the abbey?”

“You saw those forces, the soldiers.”

“The Grey guards.” I shuddered. My friend Hazel had spoken of them before. She thought the friar had hired them to watch the abbey. The creatures I’d seen on the road looked less like men, and more like the walking dead.

“Grey Men, yes. You felt that wind?”

I nodded.

“That was a curse.”

“Why would someone try to curse you?”

“It was aimed at you.”

“Me? Why? I'm an orphan. I have nothing.”

“It's not what you have, lass,” Haakon coughed. “but what you are.”

I chewed my lip, wanting to ask more. The warrior’s face knotted in pain as he coughed again. I waited until the spasm passed to smooth back his thick hair and wet his lips with water. He let me fuss over him, almost smiling when I leaned over him and my bosoms hung in front of his face. I didn’t protest. Anything to help this hurting man. I ignored the warm excitement that filled me.

Haakon drew a deep breath. “Your friend Hazel sent us to rescue you.”

“Hazel?” I sat up straight. “You know Hazel?”

“I have seen her. She lives safe among the pack with her mate. She told us of the abbey.”

“I thought she was dead. I thought the friar had killed her,” I whispered. My heart still twisted, remembering my grief at my friend’s disappearance. Could she really be alive—and safe among the warriors? Would this warrior lie to me? “Why did she not come? Or send word?”

“It was not safe. There was no time. We came right away to rescue you. We could not risk the friar alerting his master.”

“His master? He serves God.”

“Not anymore. He did a spell to call his lord, the Corpse King.”

“Why do you call him that? The Corpse King.”

“The manner of his magic. Even the dead obey him. They are his servants.”

I shuddered. “Necromancy is evil.”

“The Corpse King is evil. And he will not rest until he enslaves as many of you and your friends as he can.”

“Why us?”

“You are special, little love.” His hand caught mine again, gripped it tight.

“How?”

“You are of a race of women whose magic runs deep.”

I drew back, but couldn’t free my hand. “I am not a witch. I’m a good girl.”

“Not a witch. Their magic is tainted. You are pure.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You will.”

He coughed, and this time blood bubbled at the corner of his mouth. I ripped the edge of my hem and wet it, wiping at the corner of his mouth. “You must be quiet and heal.”

He turned his head and nipped at my hand. An arrow of heat shot through me, flushing my cheeks, dipping between my breasts and warming my nethers.

To hide my reaction, I turned away and sighed. “I suppose you are not used to taking orders.”

“Please—do not leave me.”

“I will not. But you must drink and rest.”

I held the waterskin to his lips and he raised his head to drink before laying back with a gasp and a sigh. Sweat beaded on his brow and I wiped it away.

“Good thing we have you,” he croaked, “otherwise it would be up to Ulf to nurse me. He's more likely to toss me off another cliff.”

I winced at the jest. “I am so sorry.”

“Don't trouble yourself about it, lass. I'll be all right,” he stroked my arm. I should be comforting him, not the other way around.

“Ulf will bring meat, and the magic will heal me.”

“You should not eat meat. I can make broth, if I have a pot. Cooking was my duty in the abbey.”

“As long as you don’t feed me cabbage. Ulf will get you what you need, along with a new garment. Something more sturdy, though I would prefer one as fine and see through as this one.” He winked at me.

I pressed my lips together.

“Did I offend you, lass?”

“It's not seemly for you to comment on my state of dress.” I tugged my shift as far down over my legs at it would go, but it still left my ankles and a good portion of my calves bare.

“Seemly?” he smirked. “Is it seemly for us to break into your home? Steal you away in the middle of the night?”

“Well, no, but I wasn't going to speak of it.”

“Is it unseemly to speak of your kidnapping to your own kidnappers?”

“You are laughing at me,” I sniffed.

“That I am. Oh come on, lass. The worst has already happened. Why not laugh?”

“You have an odd sense of humor.”

He started to answer and stiffened, agony flashing across his face.

“Haakon? What’s happening?” I scooted closer.

“’Tis nothing. Only the healing,” his voice was breathless.

“Is there something I can do?”

“Just be with me, lass. That is enough.”

I wrung my hands, wishing I could give him something for the pain. The spasm passed and slowly the warrior relaxed. I cast about for something to say, a subject that would not lead to a discussion about my kidnapping or the possibility of Haakon’s death.

“How did you and Ulf come to travel together?”

“We are bonded. The magic does it. We share thoughts, feelings, ideas.”

What would it be like, sharing my heart’s thoughts with another? With a man? I blushed, and Haakon grimaced.

“It's not like that, lass. We bonded together to search for woman,” he emphasized. “One who could free us from the curse. When we find her we will claim her—together.” The intensity in his voice made me blush. I wanted to put my hands over my face to hide my cheeks. Two men, together?

“I should build a fire,” I started to get up, and Haakon caught me.

“Please. Stay. You warm me better than any flame.”

His touch did the same to me, but I didn’t mention that. Instead, I settled next to him. When I put my hand over his, he relaxed.

“I’ll stay here, if you will rest.”

“I will rest if you tell me a tale.”

“What tale? I don’t know many.” The stories told by the nuns were meant to warn us of the consequences of sin. Somehow I didn’t think this warrior was concerned with living a chaste and godly life.

“Tell me about yourself.”

“Me? There is not much interesting about me.”

“I do not agree.” His dark gaze made my insides quiver.

“I have lived all my life in the abbey. I never knew my family.”

“What do you like to do?” he prompted when I fell silent.

“I work in the kitchen.”

“Cooking cabbage.”

“Not only cabbage,” I smiled. “I bake bread, make honey cakes, broths—”

“Meat?”

“When it is to be had. The nuns and orphans rarely get such fine food.”

“Do you like meat?” Haakon’s eyes were bright, I hoped with interest, and not with fever.

“I do.”

“When my warrior brother returns, he will go on the hunt for us. We will feed you meat every day,” he promised.

“What do you like best to eat?” I asked.

“Boar.”

“Mmm,” my mouth watered. I closed my eyes and tried to remember the mouthful of roasted boar I’d snuck before serving the platter to the friar and his guests. “I would spit the meat—or have your warrior brother do it. Cook it slowly, perhaps with some apple wood on the fire to add to the flavor.”

“Go on, lass,” Haakon said reverently. I relaxed. A man who enjoyed food couldn’t be too much of a monster.

“If Ulf finds apple wood, he may also find early apples. I can slice them with sugar and spices, make a pudding. Or forage for wild onions, leeks, and garlic, and roast them too—”

“Leave the leeks to the rabbits. I wish to hear more about the meat.” At my raised eyebrow, he added, “Please.”

Stifling a laugh, I went on. “Speaking of rabbit, if Ulf brings back a few of those, I can make a stew...”

* * *

The moon was high and my throat was hoarse from speaking before Haakon’s breathing evened out.

Biting my lip, I rose, wincing at the pins and needles in my foot. The rest of my body was stiff and sore, but I would not complain. Not when a great warrior lay on the ground, suffering for saving my life.

If someone had told me earlier today that I would play nursemaid to a warrior who dragged me from my home, I would have screamed and fainted. But in the cool night air, my head was clear. I owed a debt to Haakon, and would pay it, but once I was sure he would live, I would escape.

Now he lay with sweat beaded on his forehead and a pallor to his skin I didn’t like. The worst of the cuts had healed, leaving not even a scar, but the greater injuries were unseen.

He needed more water, preferably broth.

What if he woke and Ulf had not returned? I only had a little dried meat. I nibbled on one strip as I searched for a smooth rock with a small hollow. When I found one boulder, I used the water to wipe it clean. I could soak some of the dried venison and soften it for Haakon. I would need more water.

When I rose from the rock, a shadow fell over me and I gasped.

“Quiet,” came Ulf’s harsh whisper. “Do not wake him.”

I pressed a hand my chest, where my heart fluttered wildly. This warrior’s large, powerful body, his rough voice, his ruined face, it all intimidated me. But he wasn't as horrifying as I thought first time I saw him.

“How long has my warrior brother been sleeping?”

“Not long. He remained awake, I think, to watch over me.”

Now Ulf’s golden eyes rested on me. “What were you doing up?”

“This,” I showed him the rock and explained my plan to soften meat for him.

Ulf shook his head. “I will go hunt now, and feed the choicest bits to him. Eat the rest of the meat. It is for you.”

“I do not want it,” I said as my stomach growled.

Ulf’s hands closed on my arms. I quailed under his direct gaze. “Don’t lie to me, little one.”

“I am hungry,” I admitted. “But I do not know if I can eat much.”

His tone was stern, but there was a startling gentleness in his touch. “You must eat, Laurel. Our enemies are about, and when Haakon heals, we’ll have a long journey ahead of us. You must stay strong. Do not make his sacrifice for naught.”

When I took the meat and tore it with my teeth, Ulf released me and stalked to his brother’s side, gliding along like a living shadow. He wouldn’t have need of a bow and arrow to hunt, if he moved so quietly. Goosebumps rose all over my body as it reacted to the presence of a predator.

I shivered. Haakon might not be a threat to me, but Ulf could easily force me to his will.

I had to discover what these men wanted with me.

No. No need for that, I chastened myself. I had to escape.

“He looks feverish.” Ulf beckoned to me.

“He said it was the healing magic.” I wrung my hands, wishing I was not so useless. I did not know what herbs could break a fever. My orphan sisters would, but for all I knew they were scattered to the four winds, captives of more of these warriors.

Haakon coughed, and we both turned. Red spittle dotted the side of his mouth, but he did not wake. I knelt beside him and used a scrap of cloth I’d torn from my shift to wipe it away. When I laid a gentle hand on his forehead, the suffering warrior stilled under my touch. Rigid muscles relaxed.

When I turned back to Ulf, he was watching me, not quite a frown on his face.

“He’s burning up. He needs water,” I said.

Ulf did not move, and I swallowed my annoyance. I would not be afraid of this man. “Very well.” I gathered my shift and rose. “I’ll fetch it myself.”

He caught my arm before I could walk past him. “You will not run from us. There is no sense in trying to escape.” My throat was too dry to answer. I stared into his golden eyes, so beautiful in the harsh, scarred face.

He seemed to realize he’d bared his ruined cheek to me and averted his face. “There is a stream close by. I will walk you to it.”

As he guided me through the brush, he kept me on his unmarred side. He’d been a handsome man, before the scars.

When we were walking back, his hand still clamped on my arm, Ulf spoke again.

“I muddied our trail so the Corpse King will send his forces searching the wrong way. I’ll leave soon to hunt, and won’t return until I have a kill.” His hands dipped to my waist to lift me over a wet patch of ground. Again, heat flared to life inside me. I pressed my lips together to keep from gasping. The way these warriors affected me was starting to disturb me. I certainly wasn’t going to let them know how I felt.

They hadn’t yet noticed. At least, I didn’t think so.

Ulf’s face was unreadable as a stone wall. “You did not build a fire. Do you not know how?”

“Haakon preferred I stay by his side. He wanted me to tell him stories.”

“Stories?”

“I told him of the food I would make for him. I can make a broth, but you must get me some things.” I rattled off the list I’d thought of, catching my breath when he adjusted his grip on my arm, making my body pulse with excitement.

“I can get those things. Most of them. I do not know what tarragon is.”

“An herb,” I said. “You may be able to find it—”

“I do not know herbs.” He cut me off in a tone that told me he didn’t care to learn.

“I only wish to be sure the broth tastes good,” I snapped and pushed away from the frowning warrior. I enjoyed a moment of freedom until the leafy ground gave way to gravel and my foot slipped. Ulf caught me before I fell.

“You all right?”

Pressed against him, my curves molded to his muscles too well. I gave a stiff nod, cheeks heating. I refused to look at him, and he let me go.

“Take more care.” Was it me, or did his voice sound bitter? “As for the broth, we’ve choked down everything but rotted meat. This will be a fresh kill. You needn’t worry about the taste.”

“I might be able to find something in the woods to use,” I muttered.

He grabbed my hand, gripping tightly. “If you think you’re allowed to leave and roam about the forest, you are mistaken.”

I glared. “Very well.”

Ulf stared at me for a beat before his lips twitched. Then he jerked his chin. “Haakon’s awake.”

The fallen warrior was alert but pale.

“Still alive, brother?” Haakon asked.

“That’s what I was going to ask you. How did your nursemaid fare?”

Haakon grinned at me as I scrambled over the rocks to get to his side. “She is pretty but cruel. Did she tell you how she tortured me with tales of good meat?”

“She did. Soon that will not be just a story.”

Haakon drank very, very slowly. I held the skin to his lips and gave him breaks, wetting the cloth and laying it over his forehead.

“Thank you, lass,” Haakon said, and I hushed him.

“Thank me by saving your strength and getting well.”

He did as I bid, a half smile on his face.

Meanwhile, Ulf stacked kindling in a pile and quickly built a fire. The flames cast a mottled light over his marred face.

I gasped. I knew how he’d gotten his scars.

Ulf shot me a look and I pressed a hand to my mouth.

“It was a fire,” he said as if reading my thoughts. “My enemies tried to trap me in a burning lodge. Haakon pulled me out.”

“Not much kills a Berserker,” Haakon added. “But whatever the healer used to heal his skin made him scar.”

Ulf turned away with a growl.

“He doesn’t like to talk about it,” Haakon told me in a low voice. “I would avoid the subject, and take care whenever you build a fire.”

“I shall,” I promised. I wouldn’t dream of bringing up the subject of Ulf’s face. Not only did it seem to bother him, but it was dreadfully rude.

Haakon drank all the contents of one waterskin, I rose to get the second, but had to pass close to Ulf to get it.

When he rose suddenly, I startled.

“Do I frighten you?” he said in a harsh tone.

“No,” I said carefully. “No more than he does.” I nodded to Haakon.

“You are frightened?” Haakon asked as I knelt beside him with the fresh waterskin. “That’s not what I scent in you.”

“Of course I am frightened. You kidnapped me.”

“Saved you,” Haakon corrected.

“Yes, well, I didn’t know I needed saving.” I wiped the invalid’s brow, wondering if he was stronger than he looked.

“And now?”

I sat back on my haunches. Something about Haakon’s helpless state made me honest. “I do not know who is more dangerous. You or the ones you say are after me.”

“We are both dangerous, little love,” Haakon said, taking the cloth from me. His knuckles brushed the side of my bosom and I jumped. His touch woke tingles in my skin and a sudden awareness in my body. “Dangerous in different ways. But you can trust us.”

I made myself nod stiffly, even though my body wanted to lean into him, soothed by his crooning tone. I had to keep my wits about me. I had to survive.

Haakon raised a brow. “You clung to me tightly enough when I kissed you.”

Pressing my lips together, I shook my head. I didn’t need to think about that kiss. My first. A man’s lips claiming mine.

And such a man! Even lying bloodied on the ground, he was a sight to behold. Arms corded with muscle, his legs like tree trunks.

I leaned over him to wash away some rusty streaks on his left arm and he caught me in a grip strong as a healthy man’s.

“You smell sweet, like a flower. Like a mountain laurel.” He brought my fingers to his lips.

“I’m sure it’s not proper to speak so.”

He barked a laugh. “Proper? Is that what they taught you in the abbey?”

“Yes, to be kind and sweet, and always obey.” I tossed my hair, chin jutting up haughtily, all the while pressing my legs together. I felt very hot and strange. There was a trickling wetness between my thighs, but I had just finished my courses. Surely they weren’t upon me again.

“Do you always obey? You did not in the kitchen.”

I hesitated. Lying was a sin, and the warriors didn’t seem to like it. “I do not often obey.”

“We will have to train you then, little love. Although, being naughty can be very delicious indeed.”

I was about to inform him how it wasn’t proper to speak of that, either, when Ulf cleared his throat behind us.