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    Stian didn’t want a weak female. He was a warrior, and because of that required a woman that could give as good as she took. She’d need to be able to protect herself and take a life if need be.
    “You’ll make a good wife, a good mother to my strong sons,” he whispered against her ear. He would teach her his language, show her how they could communicate with each other eventually. Until then they could use their bodies to say what they needed. He removed his hand when she started shaking slightly, grabbed her chin, and turned her head so she was looking at him.
    She said a string of words, soft, low, but heated and aroused. Agata lowered her gaze to his mouth, and spoke again. “So crazy that I shouldn’t be wanting the things I do at the moment.”
    He watched her lips move, loved that they were full, pink, and slightly glossy because she kept licking at them.
    The way she spoke told him she was right here with him. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, and he heard her inhale deeply. “Soon, Agata, soon I’ll fill you with my seed and make you big and swollen with my sons. You’ll be mine until the gods take the sun and moon away.” He leaned back and rested against the hides, pulled her close and keeping her tightly to him. He meant everything he said, even if she didn’t know what he said. She would though, and then she’d realize that although he was a beast, a bastard by all accounts, he’d never let her go.
    ****
    Days. It had been days since she’d been taken to this hut, woken up with a chain around her ankle, and realized that her life was not hers anymore. She’d barely spoken since that night he held her, touched her, and whispered things in his language that probably meant she was his. He had no intention of letting her go, that was clear by the way he watched her like a hawk, always making sure he knew where she was. Right now she sat on the chair in front of the fire.
    The nights were becoming almost frigid in temperature, and the days were so chilled that she found herself in front of these flames watching Stian. When he did leave the hut it was for short intervals, but he’d always keep her ankle tethered to the wall. It was a masterful knot, with leather and metal worked into it, making it iron tight and unbreakable. Right now she watched him clean the flesh of a pig, gut it and slice it into several pieces and sizes. He hung up some, preserving it by drying it out, and she’d even seen him going to a small shed type building a few feet from the hut. Smoke billowed out of that hut, and she had to guess it was a smoke hut of some sort.
    Since waking up in this weird world Agata had been thinking a lot about what that old woman said. The few times she’d looked outside all she saw was thick woods surrounding her, but she felt the breeze come from the distance, and knew there had to be water close. It was strange being able feel that, to know that the water equaled the extra chill in the air.
    She’d picked up on some phrases and words over the last few days, knew basic things, and realized that the language he spoke, although different from the Norwegian she’d studied, wasn’t completely foreign. Some of the words were different yet similar enough, and she’d pieced them together, and figured out what he’d meant.
    He had a few pieces of pork on a slab of metal, and moved it over to the fire to place it on the flames. The scent of cooking meat, the aroma of bacon, filled her nose and had her belly twisting in hunger.
    “I want to go outside, get some fresh air.” She pointed to the door. “Outside.” Then she pointed to herself. “Me, Agata.”
    He didn’t respond, just continued to move the meat, cooking both sides, and grabbing a few potatoes and tossing them right on the flames.
    She wracked her brain for the words she’d learned in the short time she’d been here. The vocabulary was very limited, but she finally remembered some of the words he’d