A Sinless Betrayal by Cherie Benjamin (books to read for 12 year olds .TXT) 📖

Kicking Bull's blade pointed at Abigor's exposed chest. When he takes a step forwards, Kicking Bull panics and lashes out at the air with his sword. The blade catches on Abigor's muscled arm, slicing right through the tribal tattoo on his bicep. I gasp in shock; I never thought someone could be so brazen when faced with his or her angry king.

"I will not burn your body and set it afloat upon the Barbarian Sea. No, I will not give you such honour. You will not be buried, nor will you have an inch of privacy in your last filthy, dying moments. The rain will turn to acid and wash away your rotting flesh until you are nothing but bones!" Abigor's eyes are wild with fury. "Maggots will crawl through your heart and eat your unseeing eyes without mercy! You will not see the light of day after I am done mutilating you, you pitiful excuse for a man!"

Drinks of Waterfall is throwing him a sword, and before I know it, Kicking Bull and Dances With Wolves are locked in battle. He dodges many swipes of Kicking Bull's blade, but one clever swipe has my king's sword lying close to my feet and has him on the ground. "I always knew your brother was right for the throne. You are too soft. You cannot kill me, Dances With Wolves."

A devilish look appears in Abigor's steely eyes. "Oh, but I already have." With a sharp kick to Kicking Bull's shin has the bone easily broken and has him tumbling to the ground in agony. Abigor pulls the hidden dagger he had in his bearskin belt and plunges it into Kicking Bull's stomach without any traces of mercy toward the man.

I clasp a hand over my mouth and press my back against Three Horses for support. Abigor crawls on top of Kicking Bull's body and wraps his massive hands around the other man's thick neck. It's safe to say that I've never seen Abigor so angry or so powerful. He is choking Kicking Bull. The older man's legs flail and he coughs up blood due to the stab wound in his stomach. Abigor pulls him by the neck upwards and smashes his head harder against the ground.

"Remember the name!" he screams. "The name of the man who killed you. Dances With Wolves, your almighty king! And remember the name of the woman you died for. My woman, my Tiger Claw."

And in one last breath, Kicking Bull's soul rockets out of his body, leaving him lying limply on the sand—just another empty shell. Abigor leans back on his haunches and kicks the dead man away. Blood covers him and he looks completely animalistic. He doesn't even look human. But when he looks at me, I feel some kind of reassurance that the man I grew to love is still in there and is still okay and waiting for me.

Without a word, he scoops me up into his arms and carries me back towards the wagon. The townspeople stare in shock at what had just so brilliantly unfolded in front of them. They prepare to rid the streets of Kicking Bull's dead body and wash the streets with the holy water to rid the village of the reek of death.

He sits me next to him on the wagon and impatiently waits for his men to get into the back of the wagon. Then he slaps the reins down hard on the horses and the wagon missiles towards the capital city, where the great barbarian castle sits. "You're bleeding," I whisper to him, my fingers gently skirting over where the wound spits dark red blood.

Abigor nods his head. "Yes. I'm aware," he murmurs. I turn my head out towards the scenic countryside and the trees and the people on the sides of the Great River stopping to point and stare at us. And I think that we must be quite a sight to see since Abigor is covered in another man's blood.

I exhale slowly, my curly hair whipping about my face as we race on through the trees. "And you killed for me."

He still does not turn to look at me. I think it might be for other reasons than that he's steering the horses and doesn't want to veer off of the road. He draws in a shaky breath. "I would do anything for you."

I believe him now more than ever.

0o0o0o0o

It is almost dark when we get back to the castle. He's opted not to visit the castle medic for his bleeding. Instead, he's let it bleed on for almost a half hour, the blood staining his chest. It dries, and new, wet blood drenches his chest again. He's been oddly silent ever since our encounter with Kicking Bull. He sits in his great bearskin chair and stares into the fire before him.

I haven't said anything, but I'm afraid that I'll change that. But as I continue to say nothing, his condition only worsens. "Does it hurt badly?" I ask him softly. My voice seems to startle him over the quiet whisper of the wind and soft crackle of the warm fire.

He shrugs his shoulders, causing more blood to drip down his forearm. "Please Eliza…do not."

I shake my head and exhale in frustration. "But I don't understand-!" I'm whining like a child now.

"I don't want it cleaned," he repeats a little firmly. "I don't want to keep telling you this, please. Don't make me explain."

The image of the blood rolling down his skin makes me stomach churn unpleasantly. "It will fester and infect if you do not let me treat it properly." My voice is firm and on the outskirts of being angry. I am frustrated. "Do you want to end up dead as well?"

He sighs in an act of what seems like submission. I grab the bandages and wet wipes. I fill a porcelain bowl with water and dip a warm rag into it. Then I press it to his skin. He does not move a muscle as if it does not cause him pain.

I look up at him. He still does not look at me. "Why won't you look at me?" I whisper to him softly. "It seemed like…what happened today changed you in some way. I don't understand."

He shakes his head slowly, eyes still locked on the fire as if it soothed him. "I do not understand either."

I use some of the liquid-medicine that Evalyn gave me for wounds once. "This is probably going to sting." I pour the liquid on his wound. He only winces a little at the pain whereas any normal person would have been outright screaming. But he is not normal; he never was and he never will be.

I sigh and wrap a few layers of bandages around his arm. Tiny droplets of blood soak through the white cloth, but I tie it tightly around his ridiculously large muscles.

"I knew him," he managed out. "Ever since I was a child. He was a friend of my brother's and always saw me as unworthy. Whatever I did, whatever I tried to prove, it was never good enough. Today it was just another test…but he pushed me too far and I snapped." He finally looks up at me and sees my split lip and runs his thumb over it. "He hit you and it drove me insane to know that he hurt you.

"Next thing I knew my dagger was in his belly and my hands were around his throat. And I was screaming at him. Screaming at him to remember—remember this day, my name, and remember all the times that he'd belittled me and stomped me into the floor. It was like proving something to him."

He cradles his head in his hands and groans. I throw my arms around him and hold him tight. Right now he just needs to be assured that he's not a beast and it's exactly what I intend to do. "You were protecting me. It was self-defence. He pointed the sword's tip at you first."

He does not cry. I know he will not cry because crying shows weakness and he only showed me his weakness once. I already know that he does not intend to show me it again. He thinks that I need him to be his rock, but the roles have lately been reversed. And here I am again, on another dark and chilly night, holding him in my arms.

"It was not your fault," I say."

"I know," is all he murmurs back. "If anything ever happened to you…I'd die. I can't lose you, Eliza. Tell me that I won't lose you."

I gulp and rub my cheek against his. "You won't lose me."

He leans back in his chair and I sit back on my knees. He leans his face into his hands, his pointer finger curled around his lip. "You're the only thing I have left. The only sanity, the only reality. I think that if you were gone, I'd go completely mad."

He takes shaky breaths. "Hey," I murmur softly. I climb into his lap and he buries his face in my neck, smelling my skin. My scent makes him calmer, as I'd found out. "You won't lose me. I'm here—right here, with you, right now. I'm not going anywhere."

Abigor's warm hands find my backside and he takes a cheek in both of his hands. He firmly presses me to his muscular body. Hard meets soft and he moans into my hair. "Eliza, I need you."

"I know," I whisper it back to him, my lips finding his jaw.

He growls and turns my head towards his. He captures my lips, softly moving his against mine. His breathing his heavy as his hands explore and ravage my skin. Abigor's tongue slips through my lips and he encourages me to suck on it. He tastes of mulled wine and it's dizzying. He moans into my mouth, dragging his tongue across my open lips before dipping it inside again.

He moves his head and kisses a trail on my neck, hotter and hotter and more passionate yet. I cradle his head in my hands, feeling as his lips kiss my heated flesh. It feels so good.

"So you do not think me a monster?" he asks between his tender kisses.

I moan when he touches a tender place on my neck, throwing my head back. I decide my answer long before I tell him.

"A man whose hands are not stained with blood and sin has not lived." I tell him. He pulls back to look at me. His steely eyes have turned to soft brown once more, and that calm and loving man is back to me. I smile at him and stroke my palm down his cheek. "You are no monster to me, Dances With Wolves. You will never be."
War

After a vigorous round of passionate, intense lovemaking we're lying side by side on his bed. It felt better this time than last time since I was no longer a virgin when we first started. When he kissed me down there again, my vision went white. Then he drilled himself into me, his lustful and throaty moans echoing in my ears.

He'd whispered sinful things to me, things that I'd never repeat. But his words made