Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
He raised two fingers and motioned to someone. Seconds later, Jamie strode around a wall of bushes and followed the same path I’d taken; he stopped at the pole and bobbed his head in greeting. His gaze darted between Callen and me with so much rebellion, I feared he planned to sign his own death warrant.
“Speak,” the king commanded.
The prince studied me intently, slid his tongue along his teeth, and bowed his head. He dropped to one knee. “My humblest apologies, Mrs. Bruce. As my friend explained this morning, you are my king’s greatest treasure, and for that alone, I owe you my utmost respect.”
Around him, warriors displayed varying levels of astonishment. Me too! But had he truly experienced a change of heart or did he seek to save his life?
“You’re forgiven,” I announced. The answer to my question didn’t matter. I would do what was right no matter what anyone else did to me.
All eyes zipped to me and stayed put as Gavina groaned behind me. Oops. I’d broken the ‘no speaking unless spoken to’ rule. Which was a terrible rule and something I would fight to change as soon as Callen and I started dating officially.
The enormity of what I intended hit me. When I switched back, he would still be married to Isobel. I wouldn’t date a married man. Would he love me enough to divorce his fated? Expect me to live with him in his castle or visit him occasionally? Make me a part of this immortal world I knew so little about or try to hide me?
I peered at him, and he peered back with a tinge of bemusement. He wasn’t upset that I’d spoken up?
“Mrs. Bruce is sweetness itself,” he said, his voice booming across the land. “Her opinion is always welcome.”
Surprise mingled with pleasure. This man, oh, this man. He valued and exhibited my two favorite qualities: honesty and loyalty. The rarest of all the qualities. If ever there was a guy to take a chance on, it was him.
He clasped my hand, kissed my knuckles, and called to Jamie. “Do you have no more to say?”
The prince thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Nay, I donna think I do. I willna apologize for being honest.”
“In that case,” Callen snapped, “you will receive ten lashes rather than twenty.”
Wait. What?
Shock swept across the crowd. Heck, shock swept through me. Mercy, for a semi-defiant soldier?
“You didna tell me what you thought I wanted to hear,” Callen announced. “You were unafraid tae give me your honest opinion. For that, I won’t punish you.”
I squeaked with a little burst of happiness. Beneath Callen’s harsh, tough exterior beat an ooey gooey heart.
“What I will punish you for is the insult dealt to your queen.” He released me and popped the bones in his neck. “For that, I’ll whip you harder than I’ve ever whipped another.”
“For that,” Jamie echoed, dead serious, “I welcome the whipping as my due.”
Dude. These berserkers were so weird. And yet, an inkling of understanding broke through my dismay. Their unwavering code of honor had kept them alive for centuries by strengthening their trust in each other, and thereby their bonds. Callen had issued the punishment only because he must.
Yes, I’d made the right decision. Trusting him would serve me well.
He stalked down the steps. As he closed in on the prince, a warrior tossed him a cat of nine tails. I think that was the weapon’s name, anyway. He caught the whip without missing a beat and took position behind the younger royal. Two other warriors approached with shackles to anchor Jamie to the pole. But the prince shook his head and extended his arms.
The pair glanced at Callen, who indulged the prince and nodded. Both guards backtracked, receding into the crowd. Jamie removed his shirt, revealing a heavily tattooed muscled chest. Wowza! He bore just as many slashes as Callen, but also other images as well. I hadn’t expected such hardcore strength underneath his garment.
Jamie slowly eased to his knees, saying, “I willna move. You have my word.”
Callen unfurled the whip, and I braced myself for the coming horror. From his determined expression to his stance of pure power, he was a sight to behold. An ancient king born of myths and legends.
As promised, Jamie absorbed the first blow with the barest flinch. And the second. And the third. By the time Callen delivered the tenth slash, the other man was pale and dripping with sweat and blood, his shoulders rolled in, as if too heavy to hold up. But he still hadn’t moved or even made a sound.
Someone offered Callen a branding iron. He shoved it into Jamie’s chest—a chest the prince puffed out, as if eager to receive the burn. He hissed air between his teeth at the moment of contact. When the iron lifted, a fresh black slash was visible.