Beloved Viking

by Ree Thornton

  "Come," she beckoned.

  He obeyed, falling on her like a predator on prey, his mouth a cooling touch across her blazing skin as he sucked and bit a path across her neck to her breast.

  She moaned as a flood of warmth flowed from where he sucked her nipple, down to where his fingers gently probed her tender flesh. Her hands stroked his chest. His skin was warm and soft except where her fingers brushed over the puckered scars. She kissed the worst one lightly, and then kissed his mouth long and deep as he settled between her legs, his hard length against her swollen flesh.

  "Now, Jorvan," she demanded. If he made her wait any longer, she'd explode.

  Ravenous need blazed in his eyes as he pressed slowly into her.

  Her fingers curled into the soft furs and held on. Blessed Freya! It was perfect—he was perfect.

  His hips thrust in a slow sensual dance that called to the wildness within her, his tongue teasing hers as she wrapped her hands around his biceps and matched his rocking thrusts.

  "Harder," she begged.

  He groaned in response to her need and increased his sweaty, savage strokes.

  The fluid motion of his hips unlocked something within her, a belonging she thought she'd never find again. Delicious pleasure built until the first shuddering clench of her release spread through her body and her spirit soared.

  Despite the passion so obvious in his movements, he gently wrapped his arms around her and dropped his head to the curve of her neck, before he made one final hard deep thrust and released his seed within her.

  "Rú," he groaned.

  Her heart cracked open as the endearment fell from his lips. He was the only one whom had ever called her that.

  He shifted his weight from her, gathered her into his arms, and buried his face against her neck. "Gods, Rú. That was…"

  "Já. It was…" There were no words, but they didn't need them. He'd felt it as much as her. She trailed her hands through his hair until his uneven breathing slowed and he slumbered against her.

  Hours later, she woke to the gentle rocking of the ship and a dazzling expanse of shimmering stars.

  A lazy smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. What would dawn bring? She raised her hands above her head and arched her back, stretching to chase the stiffness from her limbs. The pleasure she had found in Jorvan's arms had left her with an undeniable hunger for more.

  "Jorvan…" She rolled onto her side and froze as the blissful fog of satisfaction was torn away by a coldness that sucked the sated joy from her limbs. The furs beside her were now as empty and cold as the ice creeping back into her heart. He'd left her, again, just like the last time they'd made love and she'd awakened to find herself alone.

  The tightness in her chest released as she realized that this time he'd left her because he could not sleep. Her heart ached for the distance that life's events had put between them and the people they had both become—her a warrior burdened by duty, and he a man so haunted by a dark past.

  His honest confession had done much to heal the rift between them. Now when she thought about it, it was so obvious that he had lied on the beach that day. She should have known that the reckless smile intended to hurt her had really been a distraction to hide the pain simmering beneath his jerky movements.

  "He was hurting too," she whispered aloud. Seda had been wise to suggest the trials—it had given her a chance to work through her issues with Jorvan and discover how she felt about him and the other suitors.

  Years ago, she had been so caught up in her own suffering that she had failed to see the pain in his eyes as he had turned his back on her. The thought barely crossed her mind before another followed. Her fingernails dug into her palms as the truth hit her like a battleaxe.

  "I still love him." She sat up, clutching the furs around her naked body. She had fallen in love with Jorvan, again.

  What have I done?

  A heaviness centered in her chest as she sat in lonely silence, the gentle salty breeze caressing her face. She had broken her vow never to be vulnerable to a man and love. She couldn't do this.

  "A Jarl must never be weak," she whispered. So many times her father had said those words, but she had never understood, until now. It mattered not that her heart longed to wed Jorvan, she could not trust him. What if his brothers came and asked him to go raiding again? Would he change his mind and abandon her and the clan? A second betrayal would break her.

  A pained whisper fell from her lips. "This was a mistake." She'd played a dangerous game and lost. She could not allow her own weakness to affect her duty to her clan. She needed a steadfast man to rule at her side.

  I cannot risk it.

  She should never have seduced Jorvan—now her body craved a man she could not have. She would always love him and cherish the memories of their time together, and after this night, she believed he would too. Letting him go would hurt them both, but she would soften the blow with a parting gift, a gift that would set him free to live a happy life without her.

  A hot tear rolled down her cheek as she pulled on her dress and deerskin boots and then rose to her feet. She had to get away. Now, before he returned and she lost the will to resist him. She brushed the moisture from her face and fled, running along the wooden dock and into the safety of the darkness as though the hound from Hel nipped at her heels.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jorvan

  Jorvan dipped his fingers into the foul concoction of moss, woollen fibres, and tar, and pressed it into the offending gaps in the hull of his ship. It was a fruitless endeavor, since the churning waves of the open seas always found a way through, but regular repairs like this were the difference between a manageable trickle and a sinking flood.

  "Jorvan." Rúna stood on the beach, one hand shading her eyes as she waved at him.

  He wiped his fingers on the rag and tossed it aside. He had not seen her since he'd left her in his furs to walk off his sleeplessness. By the gods, just the thought of her asleep in his furs had him hard again. He walked along the dock and across the sand to where she waited.

  "We must talk," she said.

  "I have to finish—"

  "Now, Jorvan," she said, and turned on her heel.

  He admired each flex of her toned backside as she strode along the shoreline toward the far end of the beach.

  "Rúna?" He caught up as she weaved around some children wresting in the sand.

  She shook her head. "Not here."

  He followed her onto the trail that wound through the forest up to the cliffs where a guard watched over the bay. Eventually, she paused behind a large mossy boulder and turned to face him. "This…" She motioned between them. "It can never happen again."

  "What are you saying?"

  Her eyes betrayed her sorrow before she lowered her lashes.

  He knew what was coming. She was going to push him away.

  "You need to go home."

  "Why would I leave when everything I want is in Luleavst?" He stepped forward, letting her see his hunger for her. If he had it his way, he would take her again here, now, against that boulder.

  Her nipples hardened against her fabric tunic, but she shook her head. "You must."

  He studied her closely, wondering what she really wanted. There was more to this jaunt through the woods than merely sending him away.

  "I wanted to know…" She looked away.

  A bird chirped overhead as he waited patiently for her to continue. Whatever she wanted must be important for her to seek him out like this, and he suspected that changing her mind about them being together would be dependent on his answer.

  She straightened her shoulders and met his gaze with one of steadfast determination. "I need to know why you left. You owe me an explanation."

  He hesitated. What had happened between him and her father was resolved, but he couldn't lie to Rúna.

  "I deserve to know," she demanded.

  She was right. He couldn't expect her to trust him if he was not honest with her. He s
ighed and ran a hand through his hair. "When I left you that morning, two of the guards caught me sneaking back into the village and took me to your father."

  She shrugged. "So?"

  "I had a conversation with him that…" He stumbled over how to tell her without hurting her. "That made me realize I was not worthy of you."

  Her eyebrows furrowed into a frown, and then she probed further. "What exactly did he say?"

  He closed his eyes and swallowed hard before looking back at her. She was not going to let this go. "You have to remember that it wasn't the first time I had been caught."

  She raised an eyebrow at him.

  "Your father accused me of planning to overthrow him, of being a traitor."

  "But you would never—"

  "I know, but I had given him little to like of me, so he thought the worst. I told him that I loved you."

  Her eyes widened. "You did?"

  He almost choked on the words he knew would pain her. She adored her father and this revelation would likely cause a rift. "He said that if I truly loved you I would leave…"

  As he spoke, the color drained from her face and she stumbled back against the boulder.

  "… that a drunk like me would never be good enough for his daughter."

  "So you left," she whispered.

  He closed the distance between them and looked down at her. "Já. I left. Your father was right—I did not deserve you then. I would never have become a man if I had stayed."

  She shook her head and loose tendrils of flaxen hair fluttered around her face. "How could he do that to me? He knew how I felt about you." Her voice cracked under the weight of her admission.

  He gathered her into his arms. "He did it to protect you, because he loved you."

  She shoved him away and rose to her feet, the vulnerableness of moments ago hidden once more beneath the stony-faced mask of a shield-maiden. "I have another question."

  "Ask." He would tell her anything, give her everything.

  "What happened to you when we fought?"

  His stomach knotted at the memory of how he had lost control that day, how she could have been hurt. Valen was right. If he wanted her to be his wife then he had to tell her. She deserved to know that he was damaged, that being near him was dangerous.

  "I … there is something broken in my mind."

  "Was it the blood?"

  He nodded, unable to look away, waiting to see disgust at his weakness cross her face. "It was the first time I had seen blood since my escape."

  He saw no disgust or pity on her face. Instead, she looked at him thoughtfully. "It was bloodlust?"

  "Já. When I looked at you, in my mind I saw the seer. I lost control."

  "Is that why you freeze around Seda?"

  He rubbed his beard. "You noticed that?"

  She nodded back at him without speaking.

  "Seda and the witch are one in my head. I am damaged, Rúna."

  "Do not say such things." She shook her head and grabbed his hand. "Come." She pulled him along the trail at a furious pace.

  "I need to oversee the repairs to my ship."

  "That can wait. I have a gift for you."

  A gift?

  He loved the feeling of her hand cradled within his as she led him through the forest, especially the hard calluses on her palms, born of years of weapons training, sliding across his. It had been so long since he'd been touched without feeling nauseous that he'd forgotten how good it felt. Now he never wanted to let go.

  Finally, she stopped in a grove of ancient pines.

  He looked up at the towering branches overhead, and then at the cottage on the other side of the glade. The small wooden house nestled against the mossy trunk of the largest tree had a fenced garden on one side and a small stream flowing alongside the other.

  "Who lives here?"

  The cottage door opened before Rúna answered, and a silver-haired woman stepped out.

  He froze. Seiðkonur! His stomach lurched at the sight of the Isaksson seer.

  Rúna squeezed his fingers. "It is time you met Seda."

  He backed away, pulling his hand from hers. "I cannot."

  "You can. You will. You must face your enemy to defeat your fear. I want you to be free, Jorvan. That is my gift to you."

  Was Rúna right? He knew that he had no reason to fear the seer that had served her clan faithfully for decades, but the moment she was near all rational thought dissolved and he was plunged back into the darkness. Could facing Seda cure his fears? Or would it make everything worse?

  "I could kill her."

  Rúna's hand wrapped around the back of his neck and pulled his head down until their foreheads touched. "I'll not let that happen. I promise. You can do this."

  He closed his eyes. If she believed it then he would too. He couldn't go on like this much longer. It was slowly killing him.

  "She meddles too much for my liking, but she was right about the trials. You will see that she is kind." Rúna slid her hand in his and tugged him forward.

  She is kind. She is kind.

  "Well met, Seda. This is Jorvan."

  His heart was hammering so hard in his ears that he could barely hear Rúna speak.

  Seda smiled gently. "You may leave us now, Rúna."

  He tightened his grip on Rúna's hand, desperate to make her understand that he wanted her to stay at his side.

  "I'll not go far." She pried his fingers off and stepped back.

  He followed her with his eyes, his panic increasing with her every step.

  She stopped beside the stream and looked back to give him an encouraging nod.

  He did not want to do this alone, he did not know if he had the strength, but he sucked in a fortifying breath and forced himself to look at Seda.

  The seer's eyes were bright, not tinged with madness, and her gentle, calm demeanor chased away any illusions he had that she was a threat to him. The tension eased from his body and his breath came a little easier.

  "There is darkness in you, Wolf." She swayed slightly as her eyes became glazed, and he knew she was communing with the gods. When they cleared a few moments later, she pinned him with a knowing stare. "You have been touched by a magic born of evil and fuelled by madness."

  His stomach clenched and he fought the urge to back away as he felt the presence of magic in the air around them, rising and ebbing like a gentle wave lapping at the shore. This was not sinister or dark, it was a lighter earthly magic.

  Seda tilted her head and studied him thoughtfully before she spoke. "You know that the balance was restored when you spilt her blood upon the earth."

  He shook his head. If only that were truth. "Nei. She haunts me still."

  The seer shook her head. "She has no magic hold on you, Wolf. When you release your fear you will be free."

  "How?" He wanted that. Óðinn, how he wanted to banish the fear and be whole again.

  She reached out, and slowly, as though approaching a skittish animal, placed her hand on his shoulder. "You will always carry darkness with you, but you need not fear it. The darkness is as much a part of life as light."

  She speaks in riddles. What does that mean?

  He flinched as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

  "In time, you will learn to live with the darkness. Trust yourself, Wolf," she whispered in his ear.

  Standing there in her gentle embrace, Jorvan felt gentle warmth flowing through her into him. Tears pooled in his eyes. It was as if she was spreading a soothing balm over his scarred soul, and he knew, with absolute certainty, that there was no evil in her. His tormentor had hurt him because she was insane, not because she was seiðkonur. Instantly, his fear waned and he knew he would never fear a seiðkonur again. He tightened his arms around her for a few moments before releasing her and stepping back. Now, if he could just conquer the darkness within, he would truly be free.

  "Farewell, Seda," Rúna called out as he walked toward her. She took his hand in both of hers.
"Are you well?" she asked, her face tense with worry.

  He nodded and tucked stray hairs behind her right ear. "Já. I am glad that you brought me here."

  She released a sigh of relief. "That is good, very good. I hope you go home less burdened than before."

  He cupped her chin in his hand and smiled at her. "I am not leaving, Rúna. Never again."

  Chapter Twelve

  Jorvan

  Two days later, Jorvan stood at edge of the woods with his wet clothes plastered to his skin and water running down his face. Dusk was nearing and the downpour showed no signs of relenting. Thor must be enraged to beget such a mighty storm. At least it would be easy to ensure Rúna victory in these conditions. She had to win. He knew with absolute certainty that anything his shield-maiden felt for him would turn to hate if she was forced into marriage. He would not let that happen.

  "We wait no longer," Karl Isaksson said.

  Jorvan looked around. The soggy field was deserted but for Rúna, Jàrri, himself, and the Jarl. Everyone else was staying dry inside, and Dànel had failed to arrive, likely distracted by the handmaiden he'd been wooing all week.

  "Line up," the Jarl barked impatiently. He had been in a foul mood all day, storming around his longhouse, shouting orders and glowering at his warriors. Thank the gods that the Jarl had not discovered that he had bedded Rúna after the feast.

  "You will not delay until the rain clears?" Rúna asked, looking up at the dark skies.

  "Nei. I would see this matter resolved. A trail has been set with ribbons, follow it and find the rendering of the All Father. The first to return it to me will claim this challenge," her father replied, and then raised a curved goat horn to his lips and blew hard.