Lord of the Wolves (VIKINGS TRILOGY #3) by Heather Graham EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Authors: Heather Graham
- Language: English
- Genre: Historical Romance
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Spring, A.D. 885
The Coast of France
“Melisande! Melisande! His ships are here!”
Melisande had been a flurry of motion. The words brought her to
a dead standstill in the center of the tower, a sudden cascade of both
fear and anticipation sweeping through her.
She had not believed that he would come!
But with Marie de Tresse crying out the warning from the
wooden parapet beyond her open tower door, Melisande could no
longer doubt his promise that he would have his due.
She stared at Marie’s anxious face for a moment, dropped the
tunic of delicately crafted mail she’d held, then tore through the
doorway from the high tower chamber and ran out along the stone
wall to stare out to the sea from the parapet.
Indeed, he was coming.
Dear God, it had been a day like this when he had first come. It
seemed so long ago now! Was he always to catch her in adversity such as
this? Would she always be left to wonder if he had come to her aid—or
to destroy her completely?
There was no question today, she told herself. He had come for
what he considered his.
She felt suddenly hot and cold at once. She pressed the back of
her hand to her face. Her face felt like fire, her hand like ice.
God, he was coming, he was coming. Wave after wave of tremors
shot through her, sweeping her up. It seemed so long since she had
seen him. As if it weren’t enough that a thousand Danes under that
loathed Geoffrey were at her door! Now, he was coming, too. After
so long. Maybe there was a lot he had forgotten.
And maybe there was a lot he had remembered.
And God, how ridiculous! She wasn’t half as afraid of meeting the
Danes as she was of meeting him!
Not afraid …
Yes! Afraid, after all that she had done.
And surely, with what his coming must mean!
Dear Lord, he was almost here. She could see his ship, see the
man!
It was an extraordinary ship with its huge dragon prow. He rode
his ship just as he had those many years ago when she had first seen
him.
One booted foot was high upon the helm. His great arms were
crossed over his heavily muscled chest.
A crimson mantle, broached at his shoulder with an ancient
Celtic emblem, flew wild behind him with the whip of the sea wind.
His hair, as golden and rich as the sun, also flew back.
She couldn’t see his eyes yet, but she didn’t need to see them.
She could remember them all too well.
God, yes, she could remember their color! Remember that astounding,
piercing blue. Sky blue, sea blue, deeper than cobalt, brighter than
sapphires. They were eyes that looked at her, and through her, stripping
her bare to the soul.
“So, he will not come, eh?”
She heard the taunting question spoken from a rich masculine
voice at her rear and spun around quickly. Ragwald was there on
the walkway with her, as ancient as the moon, as nagging as a
fisherwife.
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