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anything, and he’d been serious. He'd gone to bed with his sword, and it was pointed at her now.
    “Oh God,” she breathed. This wasn’t a dream or a nightmare. It was very, very real.
    A sharp rapping on the door made both of their heads snap to it. Tavik cursed vehemently as he went to answer it.  He swung the door open and filled the door frame with his body. Naomi could just make out Yula on the other side.
    The woman cowered on the other side in a long gown and lace sleeping cap. “Is everything all right, my lord? I thought I heard a scream.”
    “Everything is fine. Naomi received a fright.”
    “A fright from what?” Yula persisted as she caught sight of her still sprawled on the floor.
    “A fright from me. Will that be all, Yula?”
    The older woman’s eyes shot to her again. Lord knows what she thought. She wanted the cook to stay but knew it was pointless. She was as powerless as her.
    "Does my lord need anything?"
    "No, you may return to your quarters. Please do not trouble yourself with any further noises you hear from this room."
    The color drained from Yula’s face. "Noises, my lord?"
    "Good night." He closed the door on her horrified face. He turned back to her. Feeling very vulnerable on the floor, she got to her feet. If she was going to die, she wanted to be standing.
    “Tell me, what did you think you were doing?” he demanded.
    She swallowed nervously as her eyes darted around. This was bad, and she didn't see a way out. Tavik leaned back against the door, the only exit in the room, other than the chimney.
    She considered the chimney for a moment but discarded the idea when she imagined herself getting stuck. He would probably light a match rather than pull her out.
    “What does Agatha want you to do?”
    Her eyes flew to him at the question. What was the deal between him and Agatha? She was just some old woman. Sure, she was pretty damned feisty, but he was this big bad warrior. “I told you. She tricked me.”
    He straightened from the door and took a step toward her. “I will spare you if you simply tell me.”
    Her eyes fell to the sword, and she began to shake at the reverse threat. She had no answer to his question, not even a possible lie. He was going to kill her. She crumbled to the floor and wrapped herself into a tight ball. 
    “Naomi,” he said.
    She lifted her head from her tightly wound arms. Her face was wet with tears. “I don’t know anything. When I woke up, I thought I was home. I swear, I wasn’t trying to get the drop on you. I was confused.”
    He knelt down in front of her. “How am I supposed to believe you?” he asked.
    Her face twisted in frustration and fear. “I don’t know,” she choked and buried her face again against her arms. He rose back to his feet and sat down on the bed.
    She shivered as the cold stone floor leeched away all her warmth, but she was not going to move. Her nails dug into her arms where she clasped them. She was as good as dead. She wanted to laugh. She never stood a chance. She would have happily left him alone, but she had forgotten everything in her sleep. She had been practically sleepwalking when he’d caught her.
    “Naomi.” She didn’t raise her head. Her thoughts were spiraling down a dark mental drain.
    “Naomi,” he repeated a little louder.
    She finally heard him and looked up at him cautiously. She was sniffling with tears dribbling out of her eyes.
    “I must be sure you will not try something like that again.”
    She didn't respond but continued to stare at him.
    “I need assurance you will not do that again.”
    “I promise I won’t. I swear,” she said, but her voice was small. It held no conviction. She had promised before but look where that had gotten her. It seemed pointless.
    “I need more assurance than that.” He rose from the bed and went the chest on the far wall. He flipped it opened and reached inside. She watched him as he drew out sheets and began ripping them into long strips. She knew