“Do it, Bone-Crusher. Throw the dagger.”
Edward screwed his face up in consternation. “I can’t throw a dagger at Widow-Maker. What if I hit her?”
“Then she should have been better prepared. Throw the knife, Bone-Crusher.”
Despite the endless patience she exuded, Esme wasn’t asking. He knew a direct order when he heard one, but the idea of attempting to strike his mate was abhorrent. They stood in the middle of the training field, Isabella at the opposite end and Emmett and Jasper waiting nearby. Edward took a deep breath, steadied his hands, and took aim.
The dagger struck her shield with a dull thud, the tip lodging in the center of the red-painted drakkar. He exhaled in relief.
“Again.”
Fuck.
Wiping sweat from his brow, he crossed the clearing and pulled the dagger free, trying not to smirk at the look on his beloved’s face.
“Remember, it’s your duty to protect me, so you must practice.”
“As long as you’re as good at deflecting as you are with that sword of yours.”
“I am.”
He blew her a kiss and backed up fifty paces. He aimed, threw the dagger, and only released his breath when she brought the shield up at the last second.
“Strong-Bow, Skull-Strike; attack Widow-Maker. Bone-Crusher, have your mace at the ready, and watch for the arrows.”
Edward was positive he didn't want to be doing this.
He had to be on full alert when Isabella’s brothers-in-law circled them. She had a sword and a shield, and he had a mace, his dagger, and a shield. If he had his mace and shield at the ready, he couldn't utilize his dagger. If Strong-Bow fired at the same time Skull-Strike attacked, he wasn't sure he could intercept the arrow with his shield. He focused, knowing that his wife would be in real pain if he failed. They didn't play around when they practiced; they used real weapons with real points. Just because a blow to the head wouldn't kill Isabella didn't mean she wouldn't be hurt by it.
He didn't know the fighting styles of either men, so he watched to learn. Skull-Strike feinted to the left before bringing down his mace. Not willing to be bludgeoned, Edward raised his shield to cover his face. New to him was having to think of someone else, having to watch her back as well as his own. Strong-Bow released an arrow, and Isabella blocked it with her shield. At the same time, Skull-Strike came at her with his mace.
Edward managed to get his shield up in front of Isabella at the last moment, but the mace glanced off it and caught the top of his shoulder. He winced at the searing pain but realized he couldn't back down while Emmett continued swinging.
Despite being injured, Edward would do anything to protect his mate. It occurred to him there was no reason he had to strictly be on the defensive; he pushed Emmett back to give him room to raise his own weapon.
“Bone-Crusher!” Isabella shouted, and he realized too late that Jasper had cast another arrow in their direction.
Acting on pure instinct, Edward twisted his body as he jumped, deflecting the arrow with the edge of his shield and bringing his mace down on Emmett’s chest. Breathing heavily, he stood in front of Isabella with a cracked shield and a raised mace, silently daring either of the men to move.
Slow clapping began off to his side, but he didn’t unfreeze. If they were playing a game, he wasn't going to fall for it.
“Relax, Bone-Crusher. You were quite successful.”
With Esme’s words, Edward dropped everything and turned to Isabella. He pulled her to him in a crushing embrace and kissed her thoroughly.
“You were magnificent,” she said when she could breathe again.
“I was so afraid they’d hurt you. You are all right, aren't you?”
She gently probed his shoulder. “I am, but are you?”
“Yes, it doesn't even hurt now.”
“See how fast we heal?”
He looked into her whiskey colored eyes, enjoying the tender feel of her fingers on his skin. “I see I needn’t have been as worried about you as I was.”
“No, you did exactly right. If it had been a true fight, I would have needed your help.”
He narrowed his gaze, certain she was placating him. “You could have fought them both, though, couldn't you?”
Isabella smiled. “Do not lessen your usefulness. I have spent far too long alone, and I need you to remain by my side.”
He held her face in his hands and rested his forehead to hers. “Always.”
Esme permitted them to be finished for the day. The hours-long training had taken a toll, and they needed to bathe and eat, followed by rest. He suddenly understood all the times Isabella came in from the training fields in need of a nap. He was famished, sweaty, and exhausted.
“Peder will bring two tubs so we don’t have to share,” Isabella informed him as they entered their chambers.
“That sounds like a nice idea.”
Peder was waiting dutifully just inside the back entrance, and Isabella asked him to fetch the tubs for them. He had learned well under Edward’s tutelage and would make an excellent personal attendant. Edward pulled out a fresh tunic for Isabella and clean clothes for himself, leaving them on the foot of the bed. Soon, the parade of attendants came through the room with two hip baths and bucket after bucket of water. There almost wasn’t enough room for both of the tubs, but they managed to make them fit.
They bathed quickly, eager to head to the dining hall. When Isabella was dry, she found her undergarments from within the chest and placed them on top. Edward stood in the tub, and she watched in helpless fascination as drops of water rolled down his chiseled form. The wound on his shoulder had already healed to a round pink mark. She swallowed and bit her lip.
“See something of interest, my love?”
Her gaze snapped up to his teasing countenance and she grinned. “Oh, aye, husband.”
He dried himself slowly, Isabella staring all the while. He came closer to her, and she tilted her head back to look up into his eyes.
“Let me help you.”
She nodded with a frown, wondering if she was the only one with hot desire racing in her veins. She gripped the bedpost for balance when Edward kneeled and took her underwear from the chest. He ran one hand over her calf, up to her knee, and suddenly Isabella no longer wondered. Her breathing stuttered when he lifted her leg and slipped the cotton over it, but then he leaned in to kiss her center, and she moaned. He propped her foot on his shoulder and angled her hips so he could wrap his lips around her bud. Never in her wildest dreams had it occurred to her how much pleasure could be derived from someone else’s mouth.
Edward’s tongue touched her and she cried out. His breath fanned over her sensitive skin and she tunneled the fingers of her free hand through his hair. He mimicked the strokes he’d made with his fingers during their previous encounters, and Isabella feared her legs would give out beneath her. She trembled all over, miniature shock waves of pleasure coursing outward from her core. Edward was diligent, sucking every last drop of moisture she had to give until she called his name and sank to her knees.
He kissed her, and she tasted herself on his tongue. Feeling outrageous with her own desire and unable to wait another second to be filled by him, she pressed Edward to the floor and lowered onto his shaft. He thrust his hips to meet her movements, grunting with the onslaught of heat. She was glorious, her breasts rising and falling with each movement. He palmed them, kneading and twisting her nipples as she rode him to his release.
She shuddered when he spilled inside her, lowering herself to his chest and kissing his throat. “I don't think I can express how very much I love you.”
“You have made an inspired attempt.”
She laughed. “I’m afraid we’ll need a second bath.”
He thought of the water now gone cold and shrugged. “It was well worth it.”
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