Trinity Rising: Book Two of the Wild Hunt (Wild Hunt Trilogy 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

palm of her hand and set in an ornamented metal frame. She peered at her reflection. It was much clearer than in Ytha’s bronze mirror. She could see the freckles that dusted her skin, the colour of her eyes – violet-blue, like sunlight on a raven’s wing. Her complexion was paler than the norm for her clan, she had always known that, but she had never appreciated just how pale she was. Her reflection in a basin of water – even in a vision – did not compare to this.
    ‘Where did it come from?’
    ‘South of the mountains, I think. I found it amongst my father’s things. Do you like it?’ he asked. She nodded. ‘Then keep it. It’s yours.’
    She turned to thank him and realised he had sat down on the cushions much closer than before. The arm he leaned on was behind her back and his free hand was resting on his thigh just inches from hers. Though he was barely a hand taller than her, his thick build, his nearness, was intimidating. She fiddled with the glass, trying to appear fascinated by the intricate knotwork pattern on the frame, but she knew what was going to happen – had known it since Ytha had dressed her in fine new clothes, like a doll for a child. Why else would a new chief send for the old chief’s bedmate, if not to ensure he could claim any offspring as his own? She knew Drwyn knew that she knew, too. Nonetheless her heart lurched as he took the glass from her and tossed it aside.
    ‘Teia.’ He held her hand in his. His breath was hot on her cheek and smelled of wine. ‘I can see why my father chose you. You’re very beautiful.’
    He attempted to kiss her cheek but was foiled by her hair, so he dropped her hand and turned her face towards him. His dark eyes were even more intent now. Before she could catch her breath he had pulled her against him and his mouth was eagerly exploring hers. At first she tried to drag her head back, but his grip was too strong. She shut her eyes and let her mouth open under the pressure of his tongue.
    Once he realised she was pliant, his free hand began to roam over her body. She sat quite still as he ran it along her limbs, as if she were a horse he was buying, then squeezed and kneaded her breasts. His kisses grew no gentler. If anything they became more urgent as he tried to push her dress up. The skirt was too narrow and he growled in frustration.
    ‘Take it off,’ he said, tugging impatiently at his own shirt ‘Take it off, now!’
    Teia bit her lip, then knelt and pulled the dress up over her head, and the shift along with it. There was nothing else for it. She could not run or fight – Drwyn was physically too strong for that. His musculature was clearly defined despite the mat of hair that covered his chest and belly. He could snap her in two if he chose.
    Her hair fell forwards, hiding her breasts, but he pushed it back and cupped them in his hands, sucking hungrily at her nipples. Teia shut her eyes tight. His beard prickled her tender skin like the bristles of an animal.
    When he released her she opened her eyes again to see him plucking at the fastenings of his trews. He freed his erection and grasped it with one hand, a warrior testing the heft of a spear. His lips drew back from his teeth, somewhere between a grin and a snarl. His other hand twined in her hair and urged her head down.
    Teia gagged at the taste and the bulk of him moving in her mouth almost choked her. Drwyn groaned his pleasure, apparently unaware that her stomach heaved with every thrust. Tears spilling down her face, she wrenched her head back, even though the pain of her yanked hair brought more tears to her eyes.
    Drwyn stared at her, then without warning backhanded her across the mouth. ‘Bitch!’
    The force of the blow flung her across the cushions. She tasted salt; when she touched her mouth her hand came away smeared with red.
    Drwyn lunged for her, seizing her arms and flipping her over onto her hands and knees. Then he was behind her, kneeling between her legs. One