Siren Slave (33 page)

“Master?” She was biting her lip again. She had fangs, like her mother, small and white. He found them oddly endearing. A brow lifted, and she tilted her head. “Are you…actually considering whether or not you dislike me? At least a part of me? Not the Fomori part, not the lusty part either. The part of you that believes I foolishly supported Rome all this time?”

He turned her away from him, cupping her breasts, resting his brow on her shoulder. He pulled up the thin dress, brushing his fingers along her sex. She shuddered and sighed, her head lolling against his shoulder. Then he tugged down the material, withdrawing his hands from her. He could not corrupt this woman further.

Her fingers tangled in the gold fur on his legs. Did she think he looked foolish? He removed her from his lap, setting her at arm’s length.

Yes, Siegfried, your fantasy is sitting inches away. Odd behavior aside, she’s what you wanted, at least in the bed chamber. Yet you’re starting to like that odd behavior. If she hadn’t been a friend, if you hadn’t failed her, it would be different. This could continue. If this continues, you may feel something for her, something more than you already do. You cannot travel that route again.

Why not?

He forced himself to think of Julia, what she’d become because his perversions had ruined her. He felt guilty for even comparing the two. Freya had an innocence Julia never had, and it wasn’t because Freya was a virgin. If he were less honorable, it would be so easy for him.

He thought of his captains’ quarters. It contained so many delights, so many things that would frighten Freya. That would be their next step. No, he could not take her there.

Freya was more than what he’d wanted in the bedroom. She had become a loyal friend, more loyal than any he’d ever had. She did not deserve this. If he continued, it would end up badly for the both of them.

She blew a piece of hair from her face. “I can feel your guilt, Master. I’ve been feeling it now and then, but it’s there more and more.” Her cool fingertips grazed the top of his hand. “I thought about it, and I think you don’t take much pleasure for yourself. The times when I first saw you smile, it looked like it hurt, like the muscles aren’t used to moving that way or something. But you’ve smiled more lately, when you’re not feeling guilty.”

He shifted her to face him again. It was beginning to rain. She was nervous because of him. She must feel something for him, other than simple lust. But she was a virgin and could confuse lust for other things. It remained that she seemed to like what he did to her, what he made her feel. She’d said as much and had meant it. But she hadn’t experienced much else to know any better. Was it so wrong to continue to lead her down this depraved path, subjecting her to his fantasies? Especially now that he was a half-stag being that was not a faun, one of her own kind who could promise more than a fragment of her eternity?

“What emotions do I make you feel? Besides guilt.” Her little hand rested over the scar near his heart. Her fingers were cold, and he noticed, for the first time, that she was shivering. He wrapped one of the furs over her shoulders. “Sometimes, your emotions through this bond are blurred.”

“This isn’t right, Freya. Women want men with fine words and flowers, men to give them babes—”

“No, I don’t,” she said firmly. “It is expected. The husband and babes.” She went a little pale. “Flowers wilt, and I forget to water them. If Kirsa didn’t take care of it, there’d be a vase of wilted buds in my bed chamber. So, no, something that gets dried petals all over the place really isn’t a good gift. Not for me.

“You keep forgetting where I spent my time. Usually when men try to speak pretty and flowery, they’re not sincere. They want what you’re already getting from me. What pretty words did you give me?”

He looked away, at the tent wall, his jaw set. “And babes. You tell me you are fine with no children?”

“I don’t know my fey parents to know if it’s a flaw in the way I was made, but having children terrifies me. I can’t even take care of flowers. I think babes require a lot more work.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone and cupped her hand over his velvet-furred ear, as if she were divulging the darkest secret. “I hate babe talk. I’ve heard how bloody it is and how easy it is to die. The women would get this glassy-eyed look and talk about every bodily function of pregnancy. Then they’d tell me I was being improper when I brought up subjects that men in the barracks talked about. Why’s it proper to talk about all that kind of nasty stuff when the babe’s in your belly, but it isn’t proper to talk about the nice ways it got there? I mean, I didn’t think it just appeared there one day.”

Siegfried bit his tongue and swallowed hard. “What did you ask those women?”

“Oh, things like if it feels better—the sex, not the babe—when you’re on your knees. If it’s painful if you have your ankles around your husband’s head. What position feels the best? What do their husbands like best? Those kinds of things. Why are you looking at me like that?”

Siegfried laughed so hard his sides ached. On a whim, he placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Were you always this curious?”

“From a very young age. I always thought I was made wrong, wondered why I didn’t think the same way they did. A few times comments were made about who my real parents were. Well, more than a few. Now I know they were right.” She gave a shrug, as if this didn’t matter.

He hugged her closer. “You’re just fine, Freya. Some of us are made differently. If you have questions about sex, any that your men haven’t answered, ask me. I can’t promise my answer would be the one you would get from most people.”

“Because of the things you enjoy? The chains and all that?” Her cheeks turned red, and she laughed softly. “I already knew that before Julia blathered about it. Remember, I heard the men in the barracks. For them, the positions differed, but how many positions can you have? Doesn’t it get boring just alternating positions? Gods, Siegfried, how do you keep sex interesting for an eternity?”

He sobered again, even as she gave him her usual silly grin, dark eyes sparkling. He needed time to think of the words he needed to say. Continuing this conversation would only leave him wanting what he should he not have. A subject change before he did anything else he would regret. “I need to tell you about Enbarr’s prophecies, our purpose.” He explained what he’d learned, aside from Morrigan’s true identity. That was best left for Hecate to tell. The gravity of this conversation was enough to quell his rising lust.

****

Freya bit her bottom lip, brows knitting. “They’ve lied to me a lot already, so I’m not holding out much hope. Can we believe any of this?”

“I believe Morrigan was honest this time. She doesn’t actually lie. If you pay close attention, you’ll notice she tells the perfect truth, but in a misleading way. If she wants me as an ally, I need to know everything, as do you. We do not need to be confused with double meanings.” He paused, letting her take in that information. “But things are going to change. Freya, as you said, we are friends.” He gestured to the collar around her neck. “I can’t keep doing this to you.”

“What’s wrong? You must have done this with other women besides Julia,” Freya said. “Are you sure this isn’t about me being a Fomori or the Marks?”

“I think you know it isn’t the Marks. And I am not a man to run from a dragon, especially if that dragon is there to save me. And my actions with you,” he looked away, “were all a fantasy I never fully acted out. You are letting me do more to you than most prostitutes. You’re a virgin, Freya. I don’t know if this is right, to lead you down this path. But you’ve let me, and now it’s very difficult to stop. No matter what your opinions of me were, I feel like you should have been given scented sheets and flowers.”

“The flowers? Again?” Her jaw fell open. “So I can get flowers, then get pregnant and have a passel of babes I keep leaving in random locations, because I get distracted and forget where I set them down. And then probably a husband who chases the first pair of tatas he sees while I am pregnant.”

“I keep forgetting who I am dealing with,” he admitted. “You must have had some expectations.”

“Yes, and not very high ones. The ones I just listed are what I gathered from the barracks, except for the part about forgetting where one puts the babies. Most women don’t do that. As for the male side of it all, my close friends aren’t like that, but a lot of the other men are, complaining about their wives being fat with child and then talking about the pretty women they meet. Is it possible for you to get it through that skull of yours that I might not be upset with this arrangement? Damnit, Siegfried, I know you feel bad about some of the things you did, even though we both enjoyed them, but I trust you.”

“How the hell can you say that?”

She rolled her eyes. Why did he have to make everything so complicated? “It’s easy. It’s combining a T sound with the word rust. You have principles; you’re not magically going to transform into a complete ass just because I’m involved. Only a stag.” It was her turn to bring his face to hers. His expression was stubbornly unreadable, save for a flicker of surprise in the depths of his stormy eyes. “The way you hesitated our first night together, it was obvious you’d been denying yourself. You admitted you would have stopped if I hadn’t been willing. For all the grief you put yourself through, the least you can do is have your very own lusty, storm-powered, somewhat magically inept, warrior-dragoness-mermaid. Like I said, I trust you.
Trust.
The least you could do is make me not feel like an ass for being willing. Trust me, at least figuratively speaking, I’m a little tired of feeling like such a freak. I…
this
is why I wanted to find you.”

“Gods, Freya! Just because you trusted my reputation is no reason I should have you in my bed. There’s a reason I have not taken your virginity. I thought I could, when I accepted your pledge. But no matter the reason, things have changed.” He turned away from her again, as if he could not stand to look at her. “No, I cannot do this. I am not rejecting you. Having a mermaid of my very own is tempting. I do not want you settling because you don’t think you have a choice. Don’t
do this because of the Marks.”

“Settling?” Freya wanted to throttle him for being so stubborn. How else was she supposed to get it through his thick, distrusting skull that she actually wanted to be with him?

Someone started to draw aside the tent flap, and Freya lurched from his lap to yank it back into place. What was she to do? Admit that she very much wanted Siegfried to continue to take her down this road? That she’d happily skip the entire time? Not when he was intent on rejecting her, and that was exactly what he was doing, no matter what he said. He was supposed to want her so much that denying himself at all was impossible. This was not the way it was supposed to turn out.

But he was hurting himself, too. He’d never be happy this way, surrounding himself in gloom. Yes, times were terrible, but those little glimmers of happiness and hope were what made life worth it. And he’d given her that hope for years now. She had to tell him the truth.

“Siegfried, there’s something I need to tell you, and I need you to listen.”

“Freya, this is important,” Morrigan said from outside the tent.

“Yes, and so is what I have tell Siegfried. Whatever you have to say will still be important in five minutes. If it isn’t, then it’s not really that important.” If this collar were not clasped around her throat, she would surround herself and Siegfried with a convenient storm. It wouldn’t rain upon them, but there would be a nice curtain of happy lightning around them, paired with enough thunder so she and Siegfried wouldn’t hear any interruptions. But how would he hear her? Oh, of course. She’d just roar everything she had to say.

Siegfried rose and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Freya, move aside. I’ll handle this.” He lowered his head to whisper in her ear. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. You tempt me far too much, and this is bad on many levels, for the both of us. You’ll thank me one day. We’ll be better as allies, friends. I’ll still protect you. You know this. I don’t know if I would have taken the Wisdom if it weren’t for you. I’ll help you control your powers, do what you need me to do, but you can choose the man you’ll give yourself to. No one can decide that for you. Not me. Not Hecate. And not some horse.”

****

When Siegfried stepped outside the tent, Hecate was there with Balder, but she wanted to see Freya.

“What is it?” Siegfried asked, not caring that he sounded irritated. He tapped a foot, er, hoof twice. If he did enough to promote luck, these two would be gone soon. He wanted to go to his ship, inspect it, see his men. Anything but be near Freya. It was harder to do than he’d imagined. She’d thank him for this eventually, when any sort of feelings she had for him dissipated. He seethed with jealousy at another man experiencing her lust, and that irritated him further.

Balder motioned for Siegfried to follow him under the cover of the dripping pines. “There’s an important dinner in Asgard. The Ard Righ—High King Lugh himself arranged this meeting. Morrigan trusts you to gather information, not me.” Balder looked away, as if hurt by this. His hand plucked a somber note from the lyre. “Father sent his ravens to me with a letter. Lugh doesn’t normally go to Asgard. It’s a fair distance away from the capital city of Tir-na-nOg, the other side of the Otherworld, really. This is more than coincidental that Lugh is going there right after Freya used her powers openly and very directly. She roared. Hedwig only erased the memories of the dragon, leaving the storm, the lightning, enough to fill the gaps.” The bard met Siegfried’s gaze. “You know why Morrigan doesn’t want Freya to go.”

“No, I don’t.” Siegfried had an idea, but he wanted to hear it straight from the bard.

“You’re forcing me to explain,” Balder said with a sigh. “Very well, Siegfried. When confronted with our Father, Freya might lose control. You might have to exert that control. It would be bad if she lost control in front of Lugh. It would be worse if Father knew of the control you have over her.”