Bound to the Wolf Prince Read Free

another bairn who’d had the tip of her finger bitten off to mark her identity.”
    â€œMarking of any kind is a barbaric act unworthy of any civilised society,” Eoin said with undisguised ferocity. In the three years since he had been Prince of the Faol, he had ensured that their own practice of Marking had been abandoned. He lifted her foot to his mouth and pressed a kiss on the scar. She tasted just as he’d expected, of flowers and sunshine and human female. His tongue traced the outline of the coffer key.
    Freya was shocked into stillness. No one had ever touched her there before, certainly not in such a way. His lips were soft on her skin. His fingers were stroking her calf. “What are you doing?”
    Good question! Reluctantly, Eoin got to his feet. There were other, more pressing matters to attend to. “Here, put this back on, we must make haste,” he said, picking up her stocking and shoe.
    It was what she had dreamed of since she’d been brought here. Rescue. Escape. But Freya stood her ground. He did not frighten her, this Faol warrior, but something about him made her afraid of herself. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
    â€œYes you are,” Eoin said, throwing her bodily over his shoulder.

Chapter 2
    â€œPut me down! I demand you put me down at once, I’m not a sack of potatoes.” Freya felt, rather than heard, his laugh in the shaking of his shoulders. She beat her fists against his bare back. “Put me down!”
    â€œAs you wish,” Eoin said, dropping her unceremoniously at his feet. “I take it you want me to leave you here?”
    â€œNo! Of course not,” Freya said, annoyed at having her bluff called. “You said you would return me to my father.”
    â€œI will, all in good time, but I have weightier matters at home to attend to which require my presence on Kentarra. If you are to accompany me to my world, you would do well to learn a little respect.”
    He was already making his way down the turret stairs, travelling at some speed in his bare feet. “What do you mean, your world?” Freya asked, trailing in his wake.
    Eoin paused at the door of the guard’s room to kick a dirk in the direction of the men. “Wait a while before you release yourselves,” he said curtly, “and do not even think of following us.”
    Outside, the sky was almost black. Rain was falling in big fat drops. The wind whipped the sea into a broiling mass of white-crested waves. Freya eyed the conditions with some trepidation. “We surely can’t sail in this weather. What are we going to do? Why did you give them a knife? They’ll come after us. Why did you…”
    â€œDo you always ask so many questions? If you were mine I’d be tempted to lock you in a tower myself.” With an exasperated sigh, Eoin threw her once more over his shoulder, setting off towards the beach, stopping only to retrieve his plaid and his weapons from their hiding place behind the rock. His long legs covered the short distance effortlessly. Seconds later Freya found herself sitting inside the boat.
    Eoin pushed the craft down from the shingle into the water. A huge wave caught it and tugged it into the depths but somehow he managed to leap aboard, soaking wet, laughing as he undid the sail and took the tiller. “We will be drowned, for sure,” Freya said, gripping the side of the boat as it tilted and rocked, dipped and heaved.
    Eoin grinned and pulled the sodden piece of cloth which had stood in place of his plaid from around his waist and threw it overboard. For a brief moment he was gloriously naked, before he clad himself again in his own filleadh beg. “Come sit with me here, you’ll be safe enough,” he said, pulling her to him at the helm.
    â€œSafe!” Freya exclaimed. “Is that some kind of a jest?” She didn’t like the way her body was reacting to his nearness. She