FALL OF THE STARS (In Love and War #2)

One-2

And when he peers around the field and sees the other men are sleeping, that fear turns to dread as I know what he plans on doing.

Withdrawing his blade, he cuts through my binds but grips the crease of my elbow to ensure I cannot flee. Panic overcomes me. But I cannot scream. The helmet sits heavily on my head.

Aethelred leads me into denser woodlands, away from his men as he doesn’t want them to see the true monster that he is. I struggle, but it’s fruitless. His hold on me doesn’t waver. He is determined to break me once and for all.

When we are far away from his men, he tosses me to the ground. I scamper away on hands and knees, but he grips my ankles and drags me along the ground toward him. I grip handfuls of soil and grass, but nothing will stop Aethelred.

He presses his boot into the small of my back to stop me from flailing. I am pinned to the ground with no hope of ever escaping.

“I am very curious to see what the fuss is about.” He lifts my hem and rips my undergarments from my body. My bare arse kisses the stars.

He replaces his foot with his knee as he kneels above me, making me one with the dirt as he uses his weight to keep me pinned down. When he thrusts two fingers inside me, I close my eyes and grow lax.

Begging won’t help as no one will save me. I learned that long ago. I am my own savior.

He begins to work his fingers roughly and crudely, touching me in ways no brother should their sister. But I know the worst is yet to come.

Fisting the earth in my hands, I withstand his violation of my body because it has been broken over and over. But my spirit, it will never die. For I am hugrekki.

Aethelred wraps my hair around his fist and yanks my head back so I can meet his eyes as he continues to molest me. He wants to see fear. He wants to hear me beg for compassion. But I would rather die than beg.

Even if this monstrous contraption wasn’t on my head, I would still not plead for compassion because my brother is not capable of such a human emotion.

“I really wish this infernal device was not on you,” he grunts, increasing the speed of his fingers as he viciously plunges into my womanhood. “I want to hear you scream out my name.”

Aethelred can see my eyes, and I do not mask my hatred. I never will. And he knows it, which infuriates him. He shoves my face back into the dirt.

With nothing but abhorrence, he quickly removes his fingers to unfasten his trousers. He cannot get them off as he still has his knee pressed into my back. But he will make do.

He swiftly replaces his knee with his body as he presses his front to my back, holding me down as he spits into his hand. I want to vomit as he thrusts his fingers back into me, and bile does rise when he replaces his fingers with his c**k.

The moment he sheathes himself deep within me, I know what I must do.

His movements are cruel and vicious as this isn’t about s****l gratification but rather control. He wants to break me. But he has no idea what I’m capable of.

I lie completely still, allowing my brother to defile me brutally. For I will wait until he lets his guard down, and when he does…I will kill this bastard just as brutally.

“Oh, dear sister,” he pants between thrusts. “Your cunt is a sweet delight. I now understand why men are prepared to risk their lives for you.”

I dig my fingernails into the dirt, biding my time…and that time comes when Aethelred rears back, riding me as he would a horse, and his blade tumbles within reach. The moonlight catches the silver, a sign of what I must do.

Being the king’s w***e, I know how to use my body to please a man and make him forget everything. And as much as it sickens me, I do the same with my brother.

I arch my back as best I can and open myself up to him.

“Thou dost takest my breath away.” He sighs, and the power play soon turns to lust. “You enjoy the feel of my c**k inside you? We are one body. You are my blood.”

The way he speaks is almost religious in nature, but what I plan to do will put me out of favor with our God—again.

I meet his thrusts, accepting him as I would a lover.

This pleases him, and he grips my hips, sinking into me harder and deeper. “You beautiful whore.”

He is lost to the throes of pleasure, and although I can’t see him, I can feel his guard being lowered with each stroke. He ruts into me wildly, a string of profanity leaving him, which is when, with a quicken speed, I seize the fallen blade.

Without hesitation or delay, I thrust backward, slicing through flesh with the blade. I don’t think twice before I stab again. And again.

Hot, sticky liquid coats my hand, which only fuels my need to continue stabbing my brother, whose movements soon cease. I use this to my advantage as I flip over and shove him off me. He collapses onto his back, gripping his side as bright red blood spurts from the wounds I inflicted on him.

I am mesmerized by the sight and take a moment to admire the chaos I created. It’s now my turn to defile him.

I am a woman possessed by the devil himself as I launch onto my brother and straddle him. He attempts to push me off, but I am the one in control.

Raising my blade, I meet my brother’s frightened eyes. “I bid you, have mercy.”

Where was his mercy moments ago when he was buried deep inside me? Where was his mercy when he whipped me so hard, I still bear the wounds?

He has never shown me mercy, which is why I plunge the knife deep into his chest without remorse. He isn’t wearing his armor, so the blade enters his flesh with ease. But it’s not enough.

Pulling out the knife, I stab him over and over again, each blow shredding the last of my humanity. This is the last time I will ever be used by any man.

Bright red blood spurts from Aethelred’s mouth as he gasps for air. “Sister…p-prithee…”

His pleas only have me stabbing him harder and deeper.

He senses his demise is approaching, and with his last shred of fight, he attempts to pry me off him. But I am stronger. Father always believed me to be weak, but I will show him otherwise.

We begin to wrestle as Aethelred tries to disarm me. This works in my favor as I am able to overpower him easily and flip him onto his stomach. And then…I do to him what he did to me.

Pressing my knee into his lower back to keep him from moving, I yank down his trousers, and with an almighty thrust, I shove the blade into his arse.

A strangled sound escapes him as he claws at the dirt. He opens and closes his mouth, but he is robbed of speech. Mayhap a blade in one’s arsehole does this. Whatever the reason, his agony is my happiness, and just as I am about to take out the knife and slice out his tongue, arms wrap around my middle and yank me off my brother.

I kick, desperate to fight, but when I hear a familiar voice, I surrender.

“You must flee, Princess,” Lord Robert orders, offering me his small blade. “I will fight them off.”

Just as I am about to query who he speaks of, I hear the stirrings of the guards. They’re awake, which means my death approaches.

I stubbornly shake my head because they will kill him. My father will know he helped me escape. I cannot live with that on my conscience. But he won’t hear of it.

He spins me violently, and with frantic fingers, he unlocks the branks. He tosses it to the ground with a scream. “Forgive me. I failed you. I will never fail you again.”

I turn around to see him drop to his knees, head bowed in servitude.

“There is nothing to forgive,” I state, my raspy voice barely audible.

“I will die protecting you, Princess Emeline. I will send each of these bastards to the infernal pits of hell.”

Lifting his chin to meet my eyes, I allow a single tear to fall. “I will meet you one day soon, Lord Robert.”

“Nay, child…you live to tell your story. The story of a brave warrior who refused to surrender. Live for me. Live for the people of Northumbria!”

He offers me a parting gift, one which warms me so—Skarth’s arm ring, which he clearly stole from Cecily, and his knife. I am now complete.

The animated screams of the men grow closer, alerting me that it is now or never.

Bending low, I press a single kiss to Lord Robert’s cheek. “By my troth, I will ensure your family are well looked after. Godspeed you.”

He nods, wearing nothing but a smile as he faces death.

After taking one last look at him, I quickly flee into the darkness, leaving my brother close to death with a knife embedded in his arsehole—a splendid message for my father.

I don’t turn when I hear the clanking of metal, the telltale sign that Lord Robert stuck true to his word. Nor do I turn when I hear the anguished scream of my once friend.

“I bid thee farewell,” I whisper into the night, peering into the heavens, hopeful the Lord shows Lord Robert the light.

Sniffing back my tears, I focus on my escape as I will not allow Lord Robert’s sacrifice to be in vain. I run faster than I’ve ever run before, as I know I only have a small head start. My father’s men will be close behind.

I have no idea where I am, but on instinct, I stop to once again gaze into the sky.

“The brightest light in the sky, it’s always found north of the stars. The North Star, an anchor to where I will find you.”

Skarth once told me this, but tonight, I am alone. The stars, it seems, are in hiding. My dearest heathen, how we were both fooled. Is this chastisement for all that we’ve done?

I then think of Ulf and the promise I made.

“I accept your offer. I request your protection…on and off the battlefield. I yield to you, Ulf the Bloody. I am yours.”

Skarth doesn’t know of the promise I made to Ulf to save his wife and child, and he never will. I do not know what the promise now means, but what I do know is that I will honor my vow to Ulf.

The annoying, arrogant Northman has somehow wormed his way into my life, and I wish for it to stop. But it will not.

When both men were fighting on the battlefield, I cannot deny I was concerned for their safety. My heart belongs to Skarth, and it always has. But Ulf has a part of it too.

With the heavens refusing to help, I know this falls on my shoulders, and with that as my incentive, I grip my long hair into my fist and viciously slice the blade across the strands. As my locks fall away, a sense of liberation overtakes me because to survive this, I need to be someone other than me.

Once my hair is no more, I disappear into the night a stranger, for the darkness is where I now belong.