SHE IS MY SPOIL OF WAR I found her shivering in the ruins of her father's burning estate. A fragile English blossom. A virgin noblewoman who has never known the touch of a man like me. I am Quincy Green, the Jarl of the Iron Fjord. I am carved from ice and stone. I do not ask for what I want. I take it. She is my prize. My captive. My obsession. On the longship, I am her only protection from the hungry eyes of my crew. I demand her total surrender. I will break her spirit and rebuild it until she is fit to stand by my side. She will learn the weight of my hand and the heat of my skin. The North is a brutal place, and she belongs to the savage who conquered her. My men think I have grown weak for my prize. They will learn the depth of my wrath when they try to steal what is mine. I will defend her with my blade and my blood. She will forget her old life and her old gods. She is the Lady of the Iron Fjord now. I will ruin any man who dares to touch my queen.