Page 120 of The Viking’s Captive

“Don’t you think you should ask if I want to go to your home?”

“The time for asking is long past.”

She did not like his domineering tone … not one bit. But she would save that battle for a later date. “Where are my father and the others?”

“Following close behind. They will meet up with us at Hawkshire … some of them, leastways. Not Tykir or the hundreds of soldiers your father hired. They will go directly to Stoneheim.”

“My sisters will be overwhelmed with all the extra work caused by the new arrivals.”

“Your sisters are at Hawkshire.”

Her mouth dropped open at that news. “How did that come about?”

He waved a hand dismissively, obviously not wanting to discuss it now.

She sighed deeply at all the changes that had happened. “I need to go back to Stoneheim for a while … to think.”

“You are going to Britain with me,” he declared, “where you can think all you want … or not think. Frankly, I do not care. Your fate is in my hands now, my warrior wench. Do not doubt that for one moment.”

“Of all the …!” Her words trailed off as Adam grabbed her by the nape of the neck with one hand and raised a large broadsword over her head with the other. Was he going to lop off her head? He looked angry enough. But, no, the tap on her head was light, but the pincer-squeeze on her neck was hard. She found her legs buckling and her vision fading away. She was about to faint. As a doctor, he must know just the right spot to pinch to get that result, she decided with utter irrelevance.

Even as she was drifting into blackness, she felt the brute lift her by the waist, toss her over his shoulder, and carry her off to his mount.

The tables had truly been turned now. She and Adam had come full circle.

But what did that mean?