The first thing that struck Brenna was the pounding in her head. It hurt so badly, she didn’t want to open her eyes. She pressed her fingers against the beating drum that her world had become and was surprised to find a sticky wetness.

That sensation caused her eyes to fly open.

She stared at her fingers as if they’d grown heads.

Blood?

Brenna sat up and surveyed her surroundings. She was in a cell with a thick wooden door and metal bars across the windows.

She rose to her feet slowly. The pounding in her head was joined by dizziness. She reached for the table but miscalculated. She lurched into it, face first, and clipped her temple on the corner, then sent the chair reeling into the table’s legs with a crash.

Clutching her forehead, she stayed in the tangle of furs on which she’d been lying.

Furs?

There were no furs like this in her home.

Then—

It came to her; this wasn’t home. She was visiting cousins in the north. But this wasn’t the guest hut she’d been staying in. No, not at all. The thick door. The bars.

What happened to her head?

“It’s about time you woke up, royal one.” A male guttural voice came from nearby, one with an accent different than the one she’d grown up with.

She glanced in the direction of the speaker and found a fearsome sight glaring at her from the barred windows in the wooden door.

“Who are you?” she whispered.

“They call me Halvar,” he growled. His scowl grew more ferocious. His face had blue paint, or perhaps tattoos, scattered about in patterns that drew attention to his hair, shaved on the sides, long on top and plaited close to his scalp. His brows were drawn, his lips curved down in a sneer. A wild beard hid the bottom half of his face.

“They call me—”

“Oh, we know who you are, my lady. Brenna. The one who will fill our coffers.”

A feeling of dread filled her, and she fought to retain her composure. This barbarian had clearly taken her captive. What happened to the rest of the village? To her cousins? To all the others?

“What do you mean?” she dared to ask, though fear threatened to close her throat.

The door rattled; it was being unlocked. Then it swung open.

Halvar appeared even more fierce than before. Furs enhanced his broad shoulders. His arms held more tattoos—intricate designs that spoke of a foreign culture. His eyes were a light blue color, but the irises were ringed with a golden hue.

Then another figure stepped in.

Another man. Just as large, just as fear-inspiring. His face also bearded, but trimmed. His hair, a dirty blond cropped short on the sides, longer on top and was also braided.

The second man’s eyes were also blue, but not the light color of Halvar’s. His eyes were a dark azure, ringed with the same golden flames. He wore no shirt, and a light blanket of even darker blond hair covered his chest.

But his eyes were different. There was something in them.

He looked directly into her gaze, and for a brief second that seemed to last an eternity, she was captured in that stare, unable to look away, unafraid.

“Halvar,” the newcomer said. “Are you frightening our guest?” He had an accent, just as the first one who had spoken.

At first, his voice was mesmerizing. A deep resonance, entirely male, one that matched his chiseled countenance.

But then it struck her.

Guest?

“If I am a guest, then I’m free to leave,” Brenna asserted, spearing him with a look that dared him to contradict her.

Halvar laughed, a deep sound that boomed in the small area and made her flinch.

“Calder, my brother,” Halvar said, still speaking in Brenna’s language. “I think she needs to be taught some subservience.”

Halvar reached for his loins, his large hand grasping between his legs.

Brenna gasped at the size of what he gripped, though hidden beneath his clothing. She backed up, crawling like the crabs the traders occasionally brought in for dinner, reaching for the wall behind her.

The newcomer—Calder, Halvar had called him—raised his fist and planted it in Halvar’s bicep with a resounding smack. “You’re scaring her. We agreed. She’d be untouched.”

“You agreed, brother.” Halvar crossed the space between them swiftly, quicker than Brenna would have thought, and bent, seizing the fabric of her tunic and wrenching her to her feet. Then using his other hand, he rent the fabric, ripping it clear to her waist.

Brenna squealed. One of her hands flew to cover her breasts while the other sought to raise the now shredded tunic. “Animal,” she hissed.

“I’ll show you an animal,” Halvar raised his hand.

Even more quickly than Halvar had moved, Calder was now standing next to him, his large hand wrapped around Halvar’s wrist. “Fine then, I agreed. And we lead this tribe equally.”

Halvar released a growl and whirled on Calder. “She’s a married woman. It is not as though we have to return her untouched. And her father is a lord, her husband a chieftain. Someone will pay her ransom.”

Calder jerked Halvar around to face him. “I said no.”

Halvar’s growl was low. “There are plenty of others.” He stomped off.

Brenna regarded the man in front of her. “Thank you,” she said, her voice low.