Willow
While the warrior worked to light a fire, I huddled next to him, arms bound and legs hobbled. Even though he’d tied me up, he had seen to my comfort, laying out a bedroll out for me to sit on and producing a few oatcakes from his pack, as well as a silky wolf pelt.
The chill had dissipated, leaving the night warm and fine, yet I shivered. Not with cold. The moon rose, and soon the fever would take me. I would be helpless in its clutches, my loins throbbing, sweat trickling down my brow as I moaned for relief…
“Easy, lass,” Leif said without looking up. “I can smell your excitement from here.”
Pressing my legs together, I let out a little whimper. “Will you not let me go?”
He met my eyes a moment. All hope died in me at the hunger burning there. I sagged in my bonds. Soon I woul
