Free Web NovelChapter 496: Chapter 496
Ragnar finally broke the kiss, though he made no move to pull away. He stayed close, his breath mingling with hers, and began pressing soft kisses across her face. First to her forehead, then along the curve of her cheek, down to her jaw, and up to her temple. He lingered at each spot, taking his time, until Circe’s sweet giggles filled his ears, wrapping around him like a balm.
He smiled against her skin before finally drawing back enough to look at her properly.
They were now laying facing each other on the wide bed and Ragnar took the opportunity to study her face, his eyes full of open adoration, as if she had arranged every star in the sky just for him. Circe looked back at him with the same tender expression, her fingers lightly tracing the line of his shoulder. For several long minutes, neither of them spoke and the world outside their chamber felt distant and unimportant.
After a while, Ragnar noticed the subtle change in her. A small crease had formed between her brows, and her gaze had turned thoughtful. She clearly had something on her mind that she was hesitant to voice.
"What is going on in that beautiful head of yours?" he asked gently, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Tell me."
Circe held his gaze. At his quiet encouragement, she finally spoke.
"I wish we could stay like this forever. Just you, me, and our tiny bundle. But I know that’s an impossible wish, especially now that your father is gone." She said, already knowing what he and Casilo have been planning. He rarely kept such things from her and the thought that he might have to go to war with the queen haunted constantly. "Every time you leave the house, I feel nothing but dread. I keep imagining the worst, that you might not come back to me and that the time we have would be cut short."
When she was finished, Ragnar lifted his hand from her abdomen and cupped the side of her face, his thumb stroking her cheek with slow, reassuring strokes.
"You shouldn’t entertain such grim thoughts," he murmured. "These are troubling times, I won’t deny that. But there is nothing in this world that will keep me from coming back to you and our child. You are my life, Circe. You own every part of me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. When I’m away, no matter what is happening around me, the only thing I think about is returning home to you. I kept my word once before. Have faith that I will do it again."
Circe’s shoulders relaxed. A genuine smile touched her lips and she gave a small nod. The reassurance seemed to bolster her. She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, then nestled closer, tucking herself against his side with a contented sigh. Soon, her eyelids grew heavy as sleep slowly claimed her.
"Your hands are quite warm," she murmured sleepily, her words already fading.
The innocent comment hit Ragnar like a blow. His entire body stiffened instantly.
His eyes widened in alarm, and he jerked his hands away from her. His heart slammed against his ribs frantically. In the very next moment, a small, flickering flame sparked to life in the center of his open palm.
He stared at it, breathing hard, his stomach twisting with sudden nausea. He had been touching her. Had almost burned the woman he loved.
The flame died out after only a few seconds, leaving his hand normal once more. But the fear remained.
Circe had already fallen into a deep sleep, completely unaware of what had just happened beside her.
Ragnar remained lying next to her, careful now not to let any part of his hands brush against her skin. He watched her peaceful face in the dim light, the gentle flutter of her lashes, the soft curve of her lips and he felt the full burden of everything he had kept hidden. The strange power that had awakened in him. The mysterious woman who had dragged him from the edge of death and left him changed. He had shared some details of the hunt with Circe, but not everything.
She was already worried enough and any more stress wouldn’t be good for her. Waking her now would only undo the peace he had tried to give her.
Tomorrow, he decided. When they had a quiet moment alone and she was well-rested, he would tell her everything he had held back. For the rest of the night, Ragnar lay awake, eyes fixed on her sleeping form.
He woke before dawn, his mind too restless for more than a single hour of sleep. He lay still for a time, listening to Circe’s steady breathing beside him, then eased out of bed without disturbing her. He dressed quietly and made his way down to the courtyard where the morning air was crisp and fresh.
Casilo was already waiting, sword in hand. The two men exchanged brief words before falling into the familiar rhythm they were used to when they sparred.
Steel rang against steel as they circled and struck, testing each other’s defenses. There was a good chance that they would be riding into battle soon and they needed to be well prepared for it.
Sweat soon glistened on their arms and foreheads the longer they went on.
Circe appeared a short while later. She had draped a thick shawl over her shoulders to ward off the chill. She settled onto one of the stone benches as she watched them circle each other. freёwebnovel.com
It was one of her favorite ways to spend the morning, especially when Ragnar was involved. Watching her husband with a sword in hand, moving through each strike with strength and agility, was a sight she never tired of. He always made a show of it when he knew she was watching, pushing himself just a little further, a little faster, as if determined to captivate her with every motion. And he always succeeded.
She found herself enthralled each time, her attention wholly his, more so when, in the heat of the sparring, he shrugged off his shirt or let it fall away after. It was a weakness of hers, one he understood all too well, and one he never failed to take advantage of.
Ragnar pressed forward, parrying Casilo’s strikes with ease. He read his next move and countered sharply, driving Casilo back with a heavy downward blow that nearly tore the sword from his grip. Before Casilo could recover, Ragnar followed with another forceful cut, forcing him farther across the yard.
But just as Ragnar moved to strike again, something unexpected and frightening happened. Heat bloomed suddenly in his palms, the only warning he received before flames surged along the length of his sword. It roared outward in a violent arc, lashing toward Casilo and toward Circe, seated close by.
Her scream cut through the morning air as the flames licked across her forearms and hands. The heat vanished as quickly as it had appeared, but the damage remained. Ragnar dropped his sword with a clatter and sprinted to her side. He fell to his knees in front of the bench, his hands hovering just above her burned skin, afraid to touch.
"Circe," he breathed, voice tight with shock and guilt. "Princess, please let me see."
Her arms were already reddening, blisters forming where the fire had struck hardest. She kept them raised, trembling, her face pale and eyes squeezed shut in pain.
He did this, Ragnar thought to himself. It was his fault.
Casilo approached more slowly, sword lowered, breathing hard. "What in the gods’ names was that?"
Ragnar did not answer. He could only stare at the burns he had caused, mind reeling.
