THE DAY AFTER the brawl Althea decided to avoid Brennus. Since he was seeing to the final preparations for the rescue mission, she wasn’t too worried about running into him. But after the temptations simmering silently between them had nearly erupted, she needed to stay occupied. She spent the day helping Kelturan pick through and sort the sacks of berries, roots and herbs brought in by the clan’s foragers.

“What are you going to do with all these green juniper berries?” she asked as she lugged another bucket to the kitchen’s enormous stone-slab work table. “You can’t eat them raw, unless you like horribly bitter fruit. Which, given your personality, would not surprise me.”

“I thought to add them to your morning fodder.” When she glared at him, he took a handful of the berries and pressed them between his palms. A sharp, resinous smell spilled into the air. “The green we crush and strew in the lower passages and chambers, to sweeten the air. Mayhap I should stuff your ticking with them.”

“Berry air freshener. Very clever. Don’t you touch my bed.” She nodded and then gestured toward the mature, purple variety. “What about those?”

“I crush and stuff them into boar before roasting, so they may flavor the meat.” His expression became almost dreamy. “’Tis naught better. Well, mayhap frog, but the hunters never catch enough for a meal. I’ll catch one for you to sample.”

“A frog snack. Yum.” She swallowed hard. “You know, I might be allergic. I’ll stick to boar.”

He made a rude sound. “You’ve never been starved. Frog looks grand to a lad’s shriveled belly.”

Her smile slipped a little, and she turned away to fetch another sack. The Skaraven might be huge, scary warriors, but they hadn’t been born that way. As boys they had been trained and treated like livestock instead of children, and now she was learning sometimes they endured even worse. Being forced to fight every day must have been awful, but why subject growing boys to deliberate starvation?

Althea knew she was over-reacting, and why. Until her parents had dumped her on her uncle, she’d been starved of a lot of things: love, nurturing, understanding, acceptance—and food.

“You’re a tetchy wench,” Kelturan said when she brought a bundle of sorrel to the table. “If I spoke out of turn, you might remember I’m a man and no’ freeborn.”

“No one is born to be a slave, Kel.” She dropped the sorrel and turned to him. “Actually I starved quite a bit when I was a little girl. Mostly because my mother forgot to feed me, but sometimes because my parents fighting scared me so much that I couldn’t swallow. Fortunately, I got away from them, and my uncle raised me on his farm. He loved me, at least until he died of an infection that ate him. Literally.” She swiped at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know where all that came from.”

He gave her a long, silent look before he said, “Your heart. I think you starve it now.”

“That’s…probably true.” Feeling deeply shaken, Althea put on her brave face. “So, what do I do about it? Not that I’m going to eat a frog stuffed with anything, you understand.”

The cook tossed her one of the small, hard apples he kept hoarded away somewhere. “Forget your fear, my lady, and feast. And try frog. ’Tis much like rooster.”

Althea smiled and took a bite of the tart fruit before she went back to work.

When it came time to prepare the evening meal, Kelturan chased her out of the kitchen, claiming the other cooks would burn the food while gaping at her. Since he was probably right about that, Althea went out into the great hall to find something else to do. There she found Cadeyrn and a group of the clan’s carpenters putting the final touches on what looked like the world’s biggest picnic table.

“Wow.” She joined the War Master to survey the impressive project. Wide, fresh-sawn oak planks supported by rows of short tree stumps had been fitted together by wedge-shaped dovetailing at the ends. Whoever had finished the wood had rounded the straight edges and polished the top surface to smooth perfection. “This is really nice. What is it for?”

“Eating meals.” Cadeyrn gestured for the carpenters to carry over sections of shorter planked stumps, which they placed like benches on either side of the table. “’Twill seat the entire clan, although the patrols and sentries on duty cannae join us. What made you weep?”

She wiped a stray tear from her lashes. Even when he was busy, the War Master never missed anything. “Some bad old memories. Some really good advice. You know. Life.”

“Once Taran secures the mounts we need, we’ll have all we need to free the others.” Cadeyrn gave her a shrewd look. “Then you shall go home, my lady.”

That almost sounded like a question. “Yes, I will. I have to. I have my research, and well, my research.” She thought of the ferns she had been collecting, and all her hopes for finding new treatments for incurable infections. Since she’d come to the fourteenth century she hadn’t thought about it once. “I really loved my work.”

“’Tis a noble thing you do, finding herbs to make potions for the sick.” He glanced at her. “If ’tis what you still wish.”

She saw the chieftain come in the front entry with Taran, followed by a bunch of clansmen carrying big bundles. “Excuse me.”

Althea couldn’t leave the stronghold without an escort—Brennus’s orders—but she had complete access to the keepe and the lower levels. She slipped into the hall that led to the forge, where she had watched Kanyth hammering out new swords for the men. He was nowhere around, however, and after she admired the rows of shiny blades he’d made, she lit a torch and wandered to the back stairs. Holding the flame in front of her, she walked down until she reached the spring level.

Althea wasn’t sure why she went directly to the carved stone room, but the moment she stepped inside the scars on her back seemed to thrum. Carefully she tucked the torch in a bracket before she made her way through the slabs to the black crystal raven stone.

Dark, menacing and beautiful, Althea thought as she stood before the carved morion. Just like him.

“I’m not sure how this works, but here goes,” she said, and dropped down on one knee. “I’ve got a raven on my back. Not the one you put there, the other one. I know he’s the chieftain, and I’m just the annoying house guest. Seriously, I know we’ve both got jobs to do. Mine is waiting for me in the future. I don’t belong here, but he does. These men need him. This world needs him but…so do I.”

The room remained still and silent, but Althea’s back rippled with a sweeping warmth that made her sigh.

“Brennus and I…” She paused but then plunged on. “All we’ve got is right now. Maybe a couple more days.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t want to starve anymore. I want the feast. I can’t be his mate, or his wife, but for as long as we’re together I can be his. If that’s enough, if that’s what I should do, please let me know. Send me a raven.”

A sound echoed in the outer passage, making Althea jump to her feet. A long, wide shadow stretched into the chamber, and then Brennus appeared in the doorway.

“My lady.” He smiled a little. “Will you come and share the evening meal with us?”

And then she knew. “Sure. I’m starving.”

Up in the great hall the clan had gathered around Cadeyrn’s new table, which was covered with platters and bowls of food from Kelturan’s kitchen. Big oval trenchers made of dark bread served as plates, and while there were no utensils nearly every man in the clan had new daggers, which they used to pick up and slice the meat from the platters.

“Where is Kanyth?” Althea asked as the chieftain guided her to sit by him at the head of the table.

“I sent him to bed,” Brennus told her as he filled her goblet with an amber beverage. “He’s been awake for threeday working in the forge, and his hands need rest.”

Althea tried the drink, which was a very sweet fruit cider, and then tried to focus on the food the men passed around the table. Nothing interested her as much as the chieftain, however, so she nibbled and sipped while she watched him eat.

Brennus usually put away enough food to fill three other men, but he didn’t seem very interested in the roast boar, either. Instead he listened to the men talking about the lakes and rivers they’d been using to travel to distant towns and villages, and how building a new smokehouse would allow them to preserve the bountiful game the hunters had been bringing in every day.

Finally the meal came to an end, and like the rest of the clan Althea cleared her place and drained her goblet.

“I’ve something for you,” Brennus said, as he helped her to her feet. “Come and see.”

Althea’s heart hopped like a kangaroo in the bush as she walked with the chieftain to his chamber. She’d settled her own conflicting feelings and had gotten the all-clear from the raven spirit. Since Brennus had never been with a woman without being chained, he’d be nervous, maybe even frightened. No matter how excited she got she’d have to go slow and be gentle with him.

Inside the chamber Brennus added a split log to the fireplace and lit some candles Althea hadn’t before seen. The scent of warm honey and beeswax spread through the air, blending with the heat from the hearth. They must have come from the hive the hunters had found. The clan never wasted anything.

She, on the other hand, had wasted too much time.

“Ruadri and Taran went to the midlands this morning to buy horses from the Clan McAra,” Brennus said as he brought a large bundle wrapped in new linen and put in on his chair. “They have more than even we need, but the laird refused to sell a single mount to them.”

She wondered why he was fiddling with the bundle when he could be putting his hands on her. “Why not?”

“The McAra told Ruadri that he must first meet the clan’s chieftain and his lady wife.” Brennus took a long, shining length of silver-embroidered emerald fabric from the bundle and shook it out. “I had this fetched from a trading ship.”

Althea looked at the gorgeous gown, which had intricate stitching over yards of fine silk, and an over skirt of white lace so thin it looked like mist. She’d never seen a more beautiful garment, and it made her so angry she wanted to slap him.

This was what he had for her. A dress.

“It’s very pretty,” she told him. “So who’s going to wear it and pretend to be your lady wife? It might fit Taran, but it’ll be a little short, and with those shoulders he’ll probably rip the sleeve seams. Or maybe you can send him to hire a village woman willing to act the part. Because there’s no substitute for a real medieval woman, is there?”

“’Tis meant for you.” Brennus draped the gown over his chair. “You’re angry with me.”

“No, Chieftain, this is more like furious.” She didn’t get to the chamber door before he did, however. “Step aside. I’m sleeping somewhere else tonight.”

Brennus reached behind his back and dropped the bolt bar on the door. “First explain this to me.”

A short laugh escaped her. “You want me to dress up and pretend to be your lady. Your wife. Just to get horses for the clan, so we can rescue the others, and I can go back with them to my time. You really can’t wait to get rid of me, can you?”

“You cannae stay,” he countered. “You told me yourself.”

“That’s the plan.” She went over, grabbed the gown and nearly hurled it into the fireplace. But that was what Sharan would have done, and she wasn’t her mother. Carefully she folded the voluminous dress and placed it back in the linen wrapping. “Unfortunately, I’m not your wife, Brennus. I’m not your lady. You’ve made it clear that I’m never going to be, so I really don’t think I can act the part.” The sound of metal clinking made her look back at him.

Brennus took a pair of shackles from under the pillow on his bed. He looked down at them for a long time, and then wordlessly held them out to her.

Althea marched over to him, snatching the cuffs and chain and throwing them across the room. They crashed into the wall and shattered, falling in icy chunks to the floor.

“I’m not a pleasure lass, either,” she told him as she moved to the end of the bed and took off her jacket. Stepping out of her sneakers, she said, “You want me, fine. You’re going to have to deal with a real woman.” She jerked her shirt over her head, and unfastened her jeans, shoving them down until she could kick them off with her socks. “No chains, no ritual facking, no relieving of needs. Just you and me, making–” Big hands grabbed her and tossed her face-down on the bed. “Love.”

Brennus flipped her over, pinning her under him with his body as he tore off her bra and ripped away her panties. He dragged her wrists up above her head. “You would be my woman?”

Althea had never seen such dark torment in his eyes. All her anger melted away. “I am yours, Bren. I have been for a while now. Maybe since the first time you kissed me.”

He buried his face in her hair, his body shaking over hers. Slowly he turned his head, gliding his mouth over the curve of her ear and along her jaw. He kissed the corner of her lips, and then covered her mouth with his.

Althea met his tongue with hers, tasting heat and man, and groaned as he took her mouth. He kissed her with shattering passion, hungry and demanding, nothing held back, everything she wanted. She felt her breasts swell and her thighs knot as an unbearable need consumed her, unlike anything she’d ever felt. Wrapping her legs around his, she lifted her hips to rub herself against the thick ridge of his erection.

Brennus released her wrists and pushed himself up on his knees to yank off his tunic. The sight of his wide, hard chest made her reach out so she could feel all that glorious muscle under her hands. The moment she touched his ink the scars on her back began to pulse with a delicious sensation, as if they were being caressed.

He moved off the bed to strip the rest of his clothes, and then he stood looking down at her. The long, thick column of his penis had grown so erect it throbbed against his lower belly, and for a moment she wondered if she’d taken on more than she could handle. It had been over a year since the last time she’d made love. But this was Brennus, and he was magnificent, and her body was so ready for him her inner thighs were already slick. Althea stretched, parting her legs as she turned toward him.

“Come here,” she said, holding out her hand. When he took it, she drew him back to her, cradling his hips with her thighs and pressing her breasts against his tightly-pebbled nipples. She waited for him to move, and when he didn’t she said, “You can do anything you want. Touch any part of me you’d like.”

He placed his hand over her breast, and his fingers trembled. “I’d put my mouth on you.”

She tucked her hand around his neck and guided his lips to her nipple. He pressed a kiss there before he took her in his mouth, laving her with his tongue before he sucked on her.

The pull of his mouth made the throbbing need grow intense, and she gripped his hair, pushing her breast against his lips so he’d take more. “Yes, like that. Oh, that’s so good.”

He released her nipple with a soft pop and moved to suck at her other breast. His arm slid under her, lifting her shoulders from the bed to drape her over his forearm. His fingers rubbed her wet peak and trailed down over the lower curve of her breast. His palm slid along her hip, where he kneaded her soft flesh, but he didn’t move lower.

He was still chained by the past, Althea thought, and gripped his hand to guide it to her thigh. “Try here.” She parted her legs wider. “You might like it. It’s a fun place.”

Brennus watched her face as he moved his hand higher. His fingers moved over her, exploring her folds and the slickness of her arousal. When he grazed her distended clit she couldn’t help moaning, and he returned his fingers to caress the hard little knot.

“’Tis this wee gem that brings you to bliss,” he murmured.

The way he touched her was making her crazy now. “I might just get there without it.”

He pressed his thumb over the nub, circling it gently. “I’d kiss you here until you beg me stop, but more I want to come into you.”

“We’ve got all night,” she promised. “And I really want you inside me too.”

Brennus shifted her onto her back, nestling between her thighs. His hand shook as he guided the swollen dome of his cockhead to her, fitting it in place before he braced himself over her. “Althea. My woman.”

“Yours.” She rolled her hips to lodge him deeper. “Now take me, please.”

He sank into her, one slow inch at a time, his big body so tense every muscle bulged from the strain. At the same time his eyelids drooped, and his lips parted, his expression that of a man discovering an ecstasy he’d never known.

“Your quim is so soft and tight on me.” His chest heaved as his balls pressed against her, his shaft engulfed by her to the root. “Fack, I’ll spill if I move.”

The tight, hot stretching of her pussy around him had Althea panting. “Look at me, Bren.” When he did she gripped his cock from within, tightening and easing as she massaged his length. “Feel that? That’s you and me. That’s all that matters.”

Her words broke the last of Brennus’s chains, and he pressed her down, his hands gripping her shoulders as he drew back and thrust deep inside her. She cried out as the brutal stroke sent a flood of sensations pouring through her belly and breasts, and then he was plunging back again, over and over as he fucked her.

His mouth grazed hers before he tucked his hot face against her neck, his hand taking her breast and roughly caressing it in time with his strokes.

The slap of their slick skins and the scent of sex pushed Althea to the edge of climax, but she held back. She wanted to feel him jet into her as she came, to take his seed with her into that soul-rending explosion of delight. He’d always be her first that way, the only man to bring her such a joy.

All of the candles in the room went dark as a brilliant light glowed around them. Althea saw his tattoo glowing an electric blue, and somehow knew the same bewildering illumination was coming from her scars. Excitement swelled impossibly huge inside her as the light coalesced into a shower of sparks that ran over their bodies.

Brennus made a rough sound, and his cock worked inside her with heavier, harder thrusts. He lifted his head to look into her dazzled eyes, his own reflecting the sparks dancing over them. “For you, my lady.”

He flung his head back as he came, his shaft swelling and jerking inside her. Althea clamped around him one last time and felt her own pleasure spin out of control and burst. She lost herself as her climax whirled around the spurts of his cream, taking them both in a maelstrom of rapture.

When Althea finally came back to earth Brennus had shifted onto his side and held her as if he never intended to let her go again. Inside her body she could feel his shaft, still hard and ready to give her more. His hand stroked her hip with a slow possessiveness that made her smile.

“I guess I could wear the dress now.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “Unless you have some reason to keep me naked and in this bed.”

He tipped up her chin and gave her such a tender kiss that she shivered with new delight.

“You ken what you’ve done for me, my lady. Anything you desire is yours.” His mouth hitched. “But I dinnae reckon Taran will wear it.”

“Okay,” she said. He was only asking her to play a part, but it would give her a little to dream about when she did go back to her time. “When do we go meet the McAra?”

“On the morrow.” He tugged her leg up over his hip and gripped her bottom as he pushed deeper inside her. “Now, on that reason to keep you here.”