I am a Saxon noblewoman and I signed my family's last land into a Viking hall. I was the price, and I knew it when I put my hand to the terms.
Nobody in that hall says my name. They say the alliance.

The jarl does not wait for a council to finish. He looks at me and stands, and I follow him out.
After the last one he took me in the alcove and made me count aloud for the moment I hesitated.
He went deeper than the time before. The whole hall heard and pretended otherwise.

That is the shame of it. Not the alcove. That I hesitated on purpose, and I did it where he would see.
He says come and my feet answer before my pride can.

The rites end at the next moon and he means to finish them in front of his hall.
Counted strokes for every delay. Then taken. Then bred into his line while the hall watches.
My family keeps their land only while this alliance stands, a rival watches for one weak seam, and I am already dressing for the rite.
What is a Saxon woman who walks to that alcove unasked? What is left of my name once his blood runs through mine?

A full-length Viking conquest breeding punishment erotic novel featuring a Saxon noblewoman and the jarl who claims her before his hall.