Considering that he had had an erection all night, his balls felt like they were going to explode, and he had not slept more than a few moments at the time all night, Drak felt amazingly light hearted as he headed down the stairs—Tired, but … pleased. As if he had accomplished something of importance.
He supposed it might have been because of that lighter mood that he had made it downstairs and across the great room to his accustomed place near the east hearth before he noticed the condition of his men.
Most of them slept in the great hall—at least during the winter months—and the celebration of the success of their raid had still been in full swing when he had decided he had had entirely enough celebrating and headed to his bed the night before. It was not surprising, therefore, that the majority of them were still out—or asleep—most likely unconscious from the amount of brew they had sucked down the night before.
He supposed he also should not have been surprised to see that both the men and the great hall bore very distinct signs of battle, but he certainly was not pleased about it. The black eyes, bruises, and missing teeth could have been the results of fights among the men over some dispute or other, but he was pretty sure he could only put the claw marks and missing hair down to heavy-handed romance, particularly since he overheard a number of comments along the way between the men regarding their conquests.
What spoiled his good mood instantly, however, was a comment he caught regarding the ‘pigmy’ he had captured. More specifically, it was the suggestion that he did not bear any of the ‘love marks’ of having had success ‘wooing’ his woman.
He did not know who had made the comment, so instead of confronting them directly, he merely informed them that he had not had to fight for his lady’s favors.
“Yeah, right!” Kirk the red commented. “It don’t count as a surrender if they just scream an’ pass out! And I don’t think I would want to be stirrin’ my sticks in a cold one.”
It was the insult to Noelle that sent him from amused tolerance to rage in ten seconds flat.
Well, and the fact that the bastard had all but called him a liar. He was not about to put up with that even if it was an outright lie. Halting abruptly, he swung around on his heel, slinging out his right arm and balled fist in the same motion, caught Kirk square on the side of the head, and knocked him clean off his feet. “You even think about stirrin’ your sticks in my woman again and I will beat you to a pulp!” he snarled. He lifted his gaze from the man on the floor and swept the room with the same message and then, when he saw Kirk had no intention of getting on his feet and countering, he resumed his progress.
He was still seething when he reached his seat and sprawled in it. He had exercised restraint with the woman because he had a far more important agenda that assuaging physical needs that were ignored far more often than they were assuaged anyway! He had not anticipated the threat that had reared its ugly head, but he knew better than to ignore that and hope for the best.
His men respected him. In general, he could count on their loyalty—their fear if they did not love and respect him as their monarch.
But it was winter and that was a dangerous time. Everyone was cooped up in close quarters, supplies were limited and dwindling far too rapidly, and the men had very few outlets for their energies. The yearly raid on K’naiper was the highlight of the bitterly cold season and the payoff was the supplies to get them through the remainder of the winter and the women to expend their excess energies and/or frustrations on.
It was only half a pie, however. The ship would not accommodate more than a portion of his men—not if they were to have room to bring back what they were going after. So while it helped a goodly portion of the men, it unfortunately increased the frustrations of far more and those who had been excluded from the raid were prone to picking fights with the men who had gone in the hope of relieving them of their booty—the woman.
He was generally exempt from that particular worry—mostly because he was their Prince and few dared challenge him on any issue, let alone something relatively insignificant like a woman. And also because, in general, he simply was not inclined to worry about it. In fact, he had, on many occasions, simply satisfied his most immediate needs and relinquished his woman to another.
Mayhap that had been a mistake that was about to bite him in the ass?
Well, he damned well was not going around with blue balls only to have one of his men thoroughly fuck up his plans!
He scanned the room until he spotted Kulle. Summoning the man with a motion of his hand, he sent him to escort his captive to the great room. She needed to eat, and it seemed as good a time as any to make certain the men knew he had staked his claim to her and they would be taking their lives into their hands if they tried to filch from him.
Noelle actually felt pretty toasty enveloped in the fur coverlet she woke under but the moment she poked her head out it felt as if she’d stuck her head into a freezer. Like a turtle, she immediately ducked back into her warm little ‘shell’, but she was wide awake now. She would’ve been happy to remain where she was—particularly since her situation meant she had no duties to concern her and, in point of fact, couldn’t do anything at all if she’d wanted to—except the moment full awareness hit her the dull ache in her bladder magnified tenfold and refused to be ignored.
Dread seized her.
She’d already ‘experienced’ the facilities the night before. She wasn’t anxious to use them again and she also wasn’t in any great hurry to leave the warmth she had for the freezing temperatures beyond the coverlet.
Not that the bathroom was actually horrible. It was at least clean—in appearance and smell anyway. But it was certainly not as modern as she was used to and was far less luxurious even than the utilitarian facilities in the colony. Beyond that, if it was supposed to have flowing water it must be seasonal, because the ‘bathing’ part didn’t work. The water that should have been flowing through the pipes seemed to be frozen.
However, she acknowledged defeat fairly quickly. Hunger was one of those needs that could be ignored and would, in time, cease to torment. A full bladder wasn’t one of those things that would cease to nag if one ignored it, unfortunately.
Once she’d conceded defeat, she debated whether to try to drag the heavy fur with her and finally discarded the notion with the reflection that it might conserve the heat for her if she left it on the bed. Girding herself, she flipped the coverlet off, scooted to the edge of the bed and hit the floor running with the intention of dashing in, taking care of the problem, and racing back to the warmth.
So much for well laid plans! The moment her butt hit that slab of ice that she laughingly referred to as a seat, everything in her body clenched against the shock—including her bladder muscles. It took an effort to let go and then there was no stopping the damned flow, even when she heard the outer door open. Her eyes widened when she heard heavy footsteps. Realizing fairly quickly that she couldn’t stop, she tried desperately to finish quicker.
Fortunately, either out of politeness or squeamishness (yeah, right!) whoever it was (and she assumed it was the Prince) stopped before they reached the open door to the facilities. She managed to finish her business—not that she had a lot of choice once she’d let it fly!—and then dashed from the room and leapt for the bed, diving under the cover.
Shock ripped through her when she shoved the fur back from her face far enough to peer around the room for the other occupant. There was a man she’d never set eyes on before just straightening from the hearth where he’d evidently stirred the embers and added a couple of sticks of wood to get the fire going again.