Chapter Seventeen

She turned, seeing him there in the doorway, his face and eyes cloudy with drink but just as fierce, just as angry as they had been back on the path.

"I have to finish my work," she said, but Rolf laughed, his face scrunching up in a small scowl before he came closer.

She could smell him then, smell the drink and the horses on him as he towered over her, and then his fingers were in her hair, pulling and yanking her head back so she was staring up at those dark eyes.

"Stop," she said. "I have to-,"

"Shut up," he snapped, and then she felt it, that same fear that had struck her back by the river claiming her again.

It sat on her chest and blurred her vision, it stole the breath from her so she couldn't even scream when she felt him reaching under her cloak and pulling up her undershirt. It was the feel of his fingers on her skin that broke the spell, that cleared her sight and had her gasping.

"No, stop," she said, pushing on his chest. "I said stop it."

"Quiet!" he pushed her, slamming her against the wall and reaching even further and she froze, feeling his fingers between her legs, pushing and sliding up places no one had ever been before.

This wasn't right, this wasn't happening, she wasn't about to lose her virtue like this, so she pushed him again, this time harder, this time grunting with the effort.

"I said stop!" she shouted, and that hand left her.

For a moment she thought he'd listened, but then she heard that crack of his fist slamming into her cheek, long before she felt the pain of it, and she couldn't see, she couldn't even stand, the only thing keeping her on that feet that hand still gripping her hair. She felt them again, those fingers that slid inside her, that poked and prodded and made her sick to her stomach, but this time she could only whimper. She closed her eyes then, knowing that soon it would be much worse, and then she heard her, Little Frigga crying up in that loft and she knew that there was no way she could go to her. Somehow that made it all worse, somehow it was like listening to the cries that were building inside her own chest but she had no way to let out.

"Enid!" Ivar snapped, and Rolf froze, those eyes glaring down at her, his face scrunching up in a fierce scowl, and then he slammed her into the wall again.

She whimpered again as she doubled over in pain, but then he let her go. She took a step forward, slowly at first and then much quicker. Soon she was tearing from the room and clutching her cloak tightly around her, and then she froze, catching sight of those sky-blue eyes and stifling that sob she felt building inside her as Ivar stared at her, his eyes lingering on her face, on her lips and never even blinking. So slowly she reached a finger up, feeling it go so sticky and warm with the blood she wiped from her lips, and she looked back at him, not knowing what to say, only knowing that if she opened her mouth she would start to cry and wouldn't be able to stop, and then he took a step back, jerking his head towards the ladder without saying a word, his eyes fixed on the doorway to the backroom.