He stole her heart

It was one of those blessedly quiet nights, almost like the time they'd spent in Kelenth, luxuriating in one another's company. Low conversation reigned in their quarters along with tender affection, Garnett's lips gliding sweetly along her husband's neck as she rested on his lap. With his fingers twined through her hair, he tilted her head, bringing her mouth to his in a press that slowly heightened.

Her arms tangled 'round his neck as her heart began to race, the need of her lips on his growing. Strong hands stroked over her back, gliding along her silken dressing gown until he lifted her easily. As if she weighed nothing, he carried her down the stairs held close to his chest, careful as always to make certain no harm came to the fragile girl in his arms. Smiling wonderingly at his wife, Uhtred laid her on their bed, his blue eyes boring into her face as she stared back. Delicate fingers played over his arm, wandering up to his shoulder and finally cupping his cheek while her eyes lidded heavily.

Heat trickled over her fair skin, rosiness growing over her cheeks and radiating down her neck and over her freckled chest as breath came in slow ragged pulls. Uhtred's lips on her palm sent lightening down her arm, and when he bent to claim her mouth with his, the same jolted through her body. A whimper crept from her lips as his hand stroked down her chest and stomach, calloused fingers tugging open the simple sash that held her dressing gown closed.

Her heavy-lidded eyes lifted to his face with a shy sweet smile, that terrible blush deepening as she pressed into his huge hand, the touch to her skin making her breath catch. Beneath his lips, the world ceased to exist, and she groaned into his mouth, savouring his tongue as it plunged past her lips, muscles tangling together. Such heat Uhtred ignited in her, more than Garnett had ever thought existed within her. Between her legs she felt afire, and it was without protest that they parted beneath his hands. A small needy cry erupted from her when his rough palm kneaded at her cleft, her back arching as the tip of one calloused finger toyed with her.

Pleasure coursed through her as Uhtred's finger delved into her depths, his name tumbling from her lips in a desperate moan. Sudden pressure on her chest strangled the sound though, and she lifted her confused eyes to stare up at him. His brow furrowed in deep concentration, he gazed down at her, eyes focused on her chest where his fingers were squeezing, hard. The second cry of his name was fearful, desperate, confused, but it had no more effect on him than the first.

The pressure became pain, and she tried to pull away, hands launching themselves to push at his wrist. He might have been made of stone for all the difference it made, the tightness of his grip ever increasing. A sickening pop echoed from her chest, the searing pain following a moment later, and she screamed, tears flooding her face. His, however, was unchanging, several more vicious snaps sounding from her ribcage, agony deepening.

"Stop!" She howled at him, but the sound was wet and garbled as he simply crushed her ribs beneath his fingers, never once stopping or seeming to hear her. His hand released her as suddenly as he had started, and there was a knife in his hand. For a moment, his eyes lifted to hers, and surprise flitted over his face to see her tears. A pleasant soothing smile followed as he leaned to kiss her brow, cooing sweet things to her while the finger between her legs set to motion again...and for a moment, she settled though the passion for his touch had chilled.

"It's mine. I can't chance that someone else might take it." He murmured against her forehead in patient explanation. The cool tip of the knife pressed against her chest, hovering over her heart. "You understand, don't you, wife o' mine?" Before she could answer, he plunged the blade into her, hacking through her flesh and muscle, hands breaking through bone in a fury to reach that pulsing organ. Uhtred's knife rent it from the flesh around it, blood coursing over her pale skin and drenching both her gown and their bed as he took what was his.

Pain ceased to exist as the blood halted in her fragile frame, green eyes still somehow open and blinking as she regarded at her husband. Crimson dripped from his fingers, and he tossed the blade aside, holding his prize triumphantly in his hands as he towered over her, the love in his gaze never fading.

Her own sob wrenched her from sleep, hands clasping to her bare chest as if they would find a gaping hole there. Sweat had drenched her flesh, and they came back wet, the princess thinking for a moment she was covered in blood. But the moonlight showed her hands simply white and damp and her chest whole, her heart beating furiously in fear hardly reassuring. The tears simply would not stop, the torrent worsening as she glanced over at her sleeping husband, Garnett trembling in terror.