“Get out of bed now,” Warrick ordered and without looking swung his arm out to the side, pointing his finger at Cyra as she got to her feet. “Not a word from you.”

“Cyra helped me,” Adara said, worried for the woman, as she struggled with the covers to obey her husband.

“I do not care. She will hold her tongue,” he said and stepped forward to rip the blankets off the bed.

Adara stood, a quiver to her limbs. She had thought she had seen her husband angry, but she was wrong.

Warrick grabbed hold of her wrist and yanked her against him. “You not only disobeyed me, you wronged me.”

A shiver of fear ran through her along with a chill from her husband’s soaked garments. “I am truly sorry.”

“An apology will not suffice.” He turned to Cyra. “Some of my men need tending, go see to them and do not return here until given permission.” His finger shot out again when Cyra went to speak. “Not a word, woman.”

The warning was clear. Cyra gathered her healing basket and her cloak from the peg and cast a gentle smile to Adara, in an effort to offer what little comfort she could to her before leaving the cottage.

Warrick released his wife’s wrist with a slight shove and he turned away from her to go to the hearth. He breathed deeply, fighting to control the burning anger inside him. His fury had mounted with each pounding of his horse’s hooves as he had made his way here. When he had received word that Adara was missing along with Maia, he had feared the worse. Then he learned more and everything he had been told pointed to the fact that his wife had freed the prisoner. She had betrayed him.

Was there no woman he could trust?

He turned to face her, his anger so close to the surface, he feared he would do something he would regret. He had thought he had found a woman that he could trust, a woman he could possibly… he turned away from her again. He had been a fool to even allow the thought to enter his head that there was a chance he would find love with Adara. His father had warned him against it, pounded it into his head to never, ever let the ignorant notion of love enter his mind. It distracted and caused more problems than it was worth.

He had let his shield down and had never realized it, but no more.

Adara stared at her husband’s back, her heart feeling as if it were shattering into a million pieces. The anger she had seen in her husband’s dark eyes frightened her, but it was the unexpected hurt that she had seen there that tore at her heart.

Her limbs trembled as she approached him and her hand quivered as she placed it gently on his shoulder. She forced herself not to jump back when he yanked his shoulder away from her touch. She could not blame him. He was right. She had wronged him and she was not sure what to do to make it right, if she even could. But she had to try.

“I was wrong, Warrick, so very wrong for not trusting you.”

He turned with a sharp snap. “You betrayed me.”

A sharp jab to Adara’s heart had her cringing in pain. “I did and I was wrong, though I thought I was right at the time.”

“It does not matter what you thought. I gave you an order and I trusted you to obey it.”

“And I should have.”

“But you did not.”

Adara shook her head. “There is no excuse for my foolishness that will suffice. I believed I was helping an innocent woman as Espy had helped me.”

Warrick grabbed her arm. “Innocent or not, does not matter. You went against my word and that I will not tolerate.”

Fear trembled Adara this time, for she knew all too well what punishment awaited those who went against the Demon Lord’s word. Why had she not given more consideration to the consequences of her actions before she had freed Maia?

Fool. She could not remind herself often enough of it.

“You will tell me where you parted ways with Maia so that my men can go find her,” he ordered sternly.

Adara explained where to find her and when she finished said, “She will be there.”

Warrick shook his head and let go of her arm. “You are a fool if you believe that.”

“I am a fool for believing her, but I know she will be there, for she is dead. I killed her.” Adara shook her head. “She was not innocent. She was not a friend. She used me and no words will ever make up the wrong I have done to you, husband.” She lowered her head. “Though, I hope you will let me try.”

Her confession shocked him and thoughts of what happened between the two women for Adara to take Maia’s life left him impatient to know the details. But first… he rested his hand beneath her chin and raised her head. The fear, sorrow, and tears that glistened there tore at his heart and he warned himself to step away from her or he would take her in his arms and forgive her there and then. And that was not possible. He could not forgive her. She deserved to be punished for betraying him just like anyone who betrayed him would be, and harshly.

But she was his wife and she carried his child, and she had killed the woman who had intended him harm, intended her and their bairn harm. She had defended her family.

Warrick took her in his arms, easing her tight against him, feeling her rounded stomach press into him, feeling her quiver with fear, and feeling her body heave with tears.

“I am sorry, so, so sorry, husband,” she mumbled against his chest while tears rained down her cheeks. “I am a fool, such a fool.”

Warrick felt like someone ripped his heart out of his chest. If anything, this was his fault. His wife was an innocent, having known little kindness, if any at all in her life, and along comes a woman who shows her some. Of course, she would think her a friend and trust her word. And was that not what bothered him the most? That she chose to trust the woman over him?

He cupped her chin, raising it so that she was forced to look up at him. “What matters at the moment is that no harm has come to you and the bairn.”

Adara shuddered in his arms.

Warrick mumbled an oath and stepped away from her. “I have soaked your nightdress and chilled you with my wet garments. You need to get dry.”

Her voice quivered, proving his words. “You must get dry as well.” Her hands went to his plaid and began to unwrap it, but between her trembling hands and the wet wool it made it difficult.

Warrick brushed her hands away and began tugging at the plaid himself. “See to yourself.”

The chill had grown worse, Adara feeling it nearly down to her bones and unable to stop from trembling as her hands struggled to remove her garment.

With his movements quick, Warrick was out of his garments and boots by the time Adara shed her nightdress. He stared at her, taking in the changes in her body from only a couple of days ago. Her breasts were larger, growing heavy with milk for their child, and her nipples slightly darker, her waist still curved at her sides, though her hips held more of a curve, and her protruding stomach was rounder. She was more beautiful than he had remembered.

Adara felt the chill melt away as her husband’s eyes seemed to devour every inch of her and seeing him there naked in front of her, his manhood stirring to life just as she felt her own body stir gave her the courage to step closer to him and rising on her toes to reach up and kiss him.

He grabbed her arms, holding her still, before her lips could touch his. “Is this how you hope to redeem yourself by offering me your body when it is mine to take whenever I please?”

That he should think that upset her. That she could understand why he would think that upset her even more. She took a step away from him, his hands falling away from her, and she turned her back to him to hide the tears that rose in her eyes.

“Adara.”

“Aye, husband,” she said softly, fighting the tears, not wanting to cry again, but finding it difficult.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

She would rather refuse, but that definitely was not an option. She blinked back the tears lingering in her eyes and hoped he would think her wet cheeks were from her previous tears as she turned around to face him, and she kept her chin up trying hard not to appear defeated.

“Why do you want to couple with me now?” he asked his dark eyes still heated with desire.

She shook her head. “I do not want to couple.”

Her response almost deflated his arousal and his own response was filled with anger. “So to repent, you sacrifice yourself?”

She shook her head again and feeling she had been more foolish than she had ever been decided to continue being foolish and speak what she felt. “No, husband, I do not repent, or sacrifice myself, or want to couple with you. What I want is to make love as we did on our wedding night. I ache to share that extraordinary feeling again with you, to feel like you cherished me… to feel that you could—possibly—love me.”

Shock froze Warrick, but only for a moment, then he went to her, scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.

He took her in his arms after pulling the blanket over them, her body chilled, though not for long. Her lips reached out to his as he brought them to her mouth, pleased she was as eager to kiss him as he was to kiss her.

He loved the taste of her. It had lingered in his heart and mind from when he had first kissed her and he simply could not get enough of her. He had been hooked from that very first time and now he could not do without her.

He jumped when her hand settled around his manhood and he recalled how much she had enjoyed touching him on their wedding night. That she continued to feel the same caused him to swell in her hand as did the way she possessively stroked him. It felt as if she laid claim to him. That no one else could have him. That he was hers and hers alone and the thought stirred something deep inside him and grew him even harder.

He pulled his mouth away from hers, resting his brow to hers. “I will not last long if you continue to touch me like that.”

Her brow scrunched. “We did it more than once on our wedding night. Can we not do that now? I saw when Cyra left that it was still night. We have time,”—she paused as if hit by a sudden thought— “unless you do not wish—”

“I will always wish to make love to you,” he said and slipped over her.

Make love.

Adara smiled, hearing those words and spread her legs welcoming him home.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he urged, and she did. He groaned as he entered her. “Good Lord, you are so wet for me.”

“I want you inside me so very badly,” she whispered and raised her hips urging him deeper inside her.

He groaned again as he sank deeper and deeper, loving the feel of her slick, tight sheath, realizing how much he had missed the feel of her, and he let her know it. “I have missed being inside you, feeling you wrap around me, squeezing me tight.”

That he had missed her, thought about her, pleased her beyond belief and she let him know with a tight squeeze, and he groaned again.

He slipped his hand between their bodies to tease her little nub that already throbbed with desire and with only a couple of strokes had her groans filling the cottage.

“Warrick,” she sighed, though it sounded more like she begged.

It was not long before they moved as one, building toward a climax that would shatter them both in a million shards of pleasure before bringing them back together again.

Warrick caught his wife’s roar of pleasure with his lips as she climaxed beneath him and when he followed shortly afterwards, it was a clap of thunder that muffled his roar.

Warrick made sure not to remain collapsed on his wife, conscious of the bairn growing inside her. He rolled off her onto his side and wanting her as close as he could get her, lifted her to lay against him. He was more than pleased when she draped her arm over his waist, her leg over his, and rested her head on his chest, snuggling ever closer around him.

She was where she belonged, would always belong… in his arms.

“Is morning far off?” she asked when her breathing calmed.

“A few hours.”

She looked up at him. “Good we have time to make love once or twice more.” Was that a smile she saw? She could not be sure, the fire the only light in the room.

“You cannot get enough of me, wife?” he asked, having failed to catch the smile that rushed to his mouth, though he stifled it soon after. He could not let that happen again. It was enough his petite, wisp of a wife had blasted past the shield to his heart and firmly ensconced herself there.

“I fear I will never get enough of you husband, but it is one fear I do not mind having.” She rested her head on his chest again only this time she positioned it so she could look at him as they spoke, hoping to catch him smile.

“You have more courage than fear, Adara, or you would have never released Maia.”

“That was foolishness not courage.”

“Courage and foolishness often go hand in hand. Tell me what happened.”

With every word, from taking the food and the knife from the kitchen to cutting the woman free, guilt weighed more heavily on Adara.

“My warriors will be changing the way they patrol,” Warrick said annoyed they had failed to catch his wife, but admiring her strategy.

“It was when we stopped to rest and she had continued to tell me how evil you were that I realized the mistake I had made.”

“You do not think me evil?” he asked, wondering how she could think any other way.

“No, I do not think you are evil,” she said, running her finger along his cheek and over his lips, and smiled. “Tenacious and confident definitely. Impatient and demanding, absolutely. Kind and caring, I believe so.”

There it was again, the lifting at the corners of his mouth, even more so this time than the last… an almost smile. She said nothing about it, but she was determined to see a wide smile light his face.

Warrick had to catch another smile and it annoyed him, more so that the smiles were trying to escape more frequently and the Demon Lord simply did not smile.

“Did she admit she killed Jaynce?” he asked, forcing his wife to continue explaining.

“That was the odd thing. She claimed she did not kill her, but she admitted someone else in her group did.”

“Group?”

Adara nodded. “That was what she said—group—and that I was to join them and tell them all I knew about the devil, though once she saw I carried your child everything changed.”

Warrick hugged her closer, feeling the shiver that raced through her and tucked the blanket more tightly around them.

“She accused me of carrying the devil’s spawn and if she had known my fate, she would have killed me when she had first met me. She also told me that she would make my death swift since I made her time here bearable.” She blinked back a tear. “She intended to cut our bairn out of me in hopes it was a son and you would know she took his life.”

Rage rose up in Warrick and he wished he had been the one to kill the woman, for having put his wife through such torment.

“How did you manage to take her life?” he asked, wanting to make sure the woman was dead and would no longer be of any harm to his family.

“I remembered what Espy had told me about fear, to never let fear freeze me, to do what I had to do to survive, her words to me before she freed me from your dungeon. The words that helped me survive my journey here.”

“It would seem I owe Espy much.”

“I can say with confidence and not a bit of foolishness that Espy is a good friend.”

“That we agree on,” he said. “Now tell anything else Maia may have said that might help me discover why she attempted to kill me and my family.”

Adara wrinkled her brow. “There were a few things she told me that did not quite make sense. She told me that it was not only that I carried your bairn that I needed to die, but because of all the stories she told me.” She shook her head slowly. “She also did not understand why I never questioned being moved from family to family so often. I do not know why she would say that. I simply was not wanted.”

Her words stabbed at his heart. He imagined her a small bairn settled in with a family she thought loved her only to be uprooted and given to another family who did the same thing to her. Until finally, she came to believe no one wanted her.

He wanted her and he intended to keep her… forever.

He did give pause to Maia’s words and it caused him to worry. If Adara had been moved from family to family often, then there might be a reason for it. The one reason that seemed the most likely would be that someone was attempting to keep her hidden, but why? If so, could that mean she was in danger?

Adara yawned and stretched her body against his.

“You need to sleep. We leave shortly after first light. I need to return to the two clans that are far too close to warring.”

Adara had forgotten about that and felt even more guilt for what she had done. “Your warriors can escort me home if you need to leave.”

“No,” he said with a resounding finality. “I will see you safely home where you will stay put.”

“I know my word probably does not mean much to you now, but I will do as you say.”

“I believe you will,” Warrick said and was pleased to see Adara smile and shocked when she slipped her body over his.

“If you are to leave me for a few days, then I think you should see me well satisfied.”

Warrick almost smiled again, but caught himself, especially when his wife wiggled herself over him, teasing his manhood to life, not that it took much for him to grow hard. He wondered where the timid, fearful woman he had wed had gone to, but then she had not been timid on their wedding night, a bit hesitant at first but not as the night went on. She had seemed eager and it had led him to believe that she was no virgin, though he thought he had felt a bit of resistance at one point after entering her, but she had thrust her hips up and the barrier he thought he felt had disappeared. The blood on the sheets the next morning confirmed what he had suspected. She had been a virgin.

As much as he would have loved for her to ride him, he could see that fatigue haunted her and by the way she tried not to wince when she moved her arms or stretched her legs, he would guess her muscles were sore from her fight with Maia and the walk here.

He reached out, his hand going to her waist, and lifted her off him in one easy swoop and placed her beneath him on the bed, then slipped over her.

“This will be a quick one, mo ghaol, though I would prefer otherwise. You need rest.”

My love. He called her my love. No one had ever mentioned the word love to her, not ever.

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him from the depths of her heart. It was enough to set them both on fire and it was quick as Warrick said it would be, but not because she needed rest, but because they both grew far too excited to make it last any length of time.

“Time to get up, wife,” Warrick said.

Adara mumbled and turned to snuggle next to her husband’s warm body only to find he was not there in bed with her. She sat up abruptly and was disappointed to see him standing near the fireplace almost fully dressed.

“I need to get the men ready to leave and you need to dress and eat before we go. I will send Cyra to help you.”

“You snuck out of bed.”

The disappointment on her face touched his heart. She wanted him there beside her and that made a world of difference to Warrick.

“I did. If I had not done so we would be late taking our leave this morning.”

Adara was about to agree with him when her stomach roiled terribly and her face turned ghostly white. She jumped out of bed and headed for the bucket Cyra kept in the corner.

Warrick saw her need and hurried to fetch it for her, forcing her with a slight yank of her arm to sit on the chair, and held the bucket in front of her. There was nothing in her stomach to discard and she dry heaved.

When she finished, Warrick soaked a cloth in a bucket of water and hunched down in front of her to wipe her face, his own stomach knotting and roiling for what she had gone through.

“I thought this had past,” he said, her face far too pale to his liking.

“It comes and goes. I have spoken to Cyra and she tells me the same as Espy. It may stay with me the whole time or suddenly disappear. I hope it suddenly disappears. Cyra did give me a brew that helped some.”

“I will go fetch her so she can prepare it for you.” He went to stand and she reached out to grab his arm. He hunched down again. “You are feeling ill again?”

She shook her head. “I want you to help me into my nightdress. I do not want to be sitting here naked when Cyra enters.”

“I like you as you are, but then your naked body is for my eyes alone,” he said and kissed her cheek before standing and fetching her nightdress and helping her into it. He kissed her check again before he went to the door.

“Warrick,” she said and he stopped and turned, worry on his face that she might be ill again. But she had worry of her own. “Fear has already started to grow in me and will worsen if I must wait to be told my punishment for disobeying you. Please tell me now, what I must suffer, and rightfully so, then fear will not haunt me endlessly.” At least she hoped it would not, but then that would depend on the punishment.

Warrick stared at her, saying not a word. She wondered if he had yet to decide her punishment, though she hoped otherwise. She needed to know so that she could prepare herself, though she wondered if she already knew it. He had told all in the village that if anyone helped Maia they would join her on the other stake.

His silence fell heavy around her and she wished he would speak.

Warrick turned and opened the door and Adara thought he would leave without telling her, then he turned back, his dark eyes settling on her blue ones.

“You have suffered enough in my dungeon and now carrying my bairn, I will see you suffer no more. But make no mistake, Adara, I will not feel the same if you betray me again.”

He walked out of the cottage and stood outside, staring in the distance. He had rules for all that were meant to be obeyed. His wife had deserved to be punished, but every time he felt the scars his guards had left upon her soft flesh or felt her crooked fingers brush over him, he was reminded of all she had wrongly suffered. And he could not bring himself to make her suffer even more. She was naïve in many ways and such innocence brought with it mistakes. He had promised her he would keep her safe and that even meant keeping her safe from herself.

One of his warriors approached him.

“The search has begun,” the warrior said.

Warrick nodded and the warrior took his leave. He had seen on Adara’s face, heard in her quivering voice that she barely could believe that she had killed Maia.

The problem… no body had been found.