Reckless Protector: Isaacson Trilogy Book Three

29

Ulric and Ingrid returned to camp amidst kisses and loving caresses that further delayed their progress. After one last lingering kiss, Ingrid sighed in contentment as Ulric swept her into his arms, and carried her toward the glow of the fire that promised warmth to their chilled skin.

They found Magnus wrapped in his bear fur, already deeply asleep, and settled in for the night themselves. After kissing Ulric good night, Ingrid quickly drifted off to sleep with him beside her. He tried to sleep, but two hours later, he was still awake, staring into the fire and listening to the soft sounds of slumber made by Ingrid and Magnus.

The scents of crushed pine, frozen earth, wood smoke, and fresh snow perfumed the air and filled his senses. An owl hooted in the distance, followed by wolves howling moments later.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the sounds and smells, drinking them in, in case this became his last night alive. The fire popped and crackled, lending its gentle melody to the night's music.

Instead of relaxing and growing tired, his mind insisted on replaying the secrets Ingrid had shared, dredging up images of decimation from the last battle he and his brothers had fought against, 'The Angry Wolf.'

Was Erasmus the one behind their atrocities over the past two decades? Ulric recoiled from the thought, unable to reconcile what he'd learned today with the man he'd known his entire life. But he was finding it difficult to deny the evidence against him.

Jumping from one thought to the next, he couldn't help but wonder: had he already made choices that would change his future? If not, what would it take? Should he tell his brothers? Those three questions and the concerns they raised caused his heart to thud dully in his chest.

If he were in his brother's place and learned that either Esmund or Gunnar was to die, he would do everything in his power to see it didn't happen. If he kept such information from them, they would be furious when they found out. But what if telling them was another step leading to his fateful end?

Suddenly, there came a sharp crack of a twig from over thirty feet away, and the hairs along Ulric's arms rose in a warning. He tucked the blanket around Ingrid and stood on soundless feet. Retrieving his battle hammer, he crept away from camp and strained his ears for any further sounds of danger.

If whatever was coming toward him proved to be a threat, he wanted to be as far away from Ingrid as possible. From the sound of it, there were at least two, possibly three, four-legged animals with heavy footsteps lumbering toward where he waited.

Ulric slipped behind a tree and held his breath, grasping his battle hammer at the ready. Snow drifted down around him, making the noises from the animals take on a hollow quality.

"Admit it; we're lost."

"We are not lost," Gunnar said, his tone thick with exasperation. "I know exactly where we are."

"Well then, Ulric is lost," Esmund hissed. "What the devil would he be doing out here when Rattlesnake Ridge, which has a rather nice hotel and soft feather beds, I might add, is less than a mile away?"

They stopped suddenly, and Gunnar growled, "If I hear you repeat feather beds, I will punch you. You've mentioned a 'rather nice hotel and soft feather beds' over a dozen times in the past half hour."

"But wouldn't you rather sleep on a feather bed instead of-"

Esmund didn't get to finish his complaint. The sound of flesh meeting flesh cut off his words, followed by a grunt, proving Gunnar had kept his word.

"Did you have to wallop me?" Esmund groaned. "No wonder Wasp loves you; bad-tempered the both of you."

"Don't be such a baby; I barely touched you." Gunnar clicked his tongue, and they began walking again. "Besides, I warned you fair and square, so you only have yourself to blame."