Chapter Twenty-two

"Ivar, wait," she said, rushing to catch up with him in the yard. That cold light in his eyes had not changed and his forehead still lined in a slight crease every time he looked at her, but now she found herself caring less. "I meant what I said, I want to protect them."

"Why?" he asked. "You're not their mother."

For a moment those words stung and she felt something prick deep down in her stomach and leave her breathless, but then she shook her head, her hands clenching into fists at her sides as she stared up at him.

"I love them, Ivar," she said. "They're not mine, but I love them. I don't want them to get hurt so use me before you put them in danger."

For a long while neither of them spoke, for a long while he only studied her face almost like he couldn't decide if she was telling the truth or not, and then he said, "Nothing good ever comes from teaching a slave to fight."

There it was again, that horrible word, her place in the world and all she would ever be.

"You made me a slave, Ivar," she spoke through gritted teeth. "You did this to me. I had a good life back home. I was about to be married. I was about to have a house in town and never have to work on a farm again! You took everything from me and now you're going to take those children too. Well, I won't let you! They're good and sweet and I won't let you hurt them. I won't let you make them like you!"

She glared at him, every passing moment making her want to run, making her want to burst into tears and apologise. She felt it then, the crack of his belt across her legs, knowing that this time it would be much worse and this time that there would be nothing she could do to stop it, but she would save those children. Never before had she felt something so deeply and known down in the depths of her heart that something was just and right.

"You don't need to do anything," he said, his voice soft and low. "My children are already better than me."

"So let me help."

"They don't need your help… not like that anyway. You've been good to them, Enid. I can admit that, but you're not one of us and you're not a part of this family. They don't need your love and I don't want you to love them. You just need to look after them."

So desperately she wanted to shout, wanted to scream and slam her fists into his chest. So terribly she wanted to do anything but stand there, her chest cracking, tears streaming down her cheeks as she stifled that sob building in her chest, that pain tearing through her heart. Without another word he turned and left her, cradling herself in her arms and knowing that he had won.

Somehow he had managed to take them away. Somehow he had managed to rip those children from her and yet they were still there and now she would have to watch them. She would have to keep them in her life and hear those words echo in her mind over and over again.

They were not family.