Beloved Viking

by Ree Thornton

  Jorvan leapt forward and sprinted onto the trail that cut through the thick forest, following the blue ribbons tied around the trunks of trees. He had claimed the lead, but he could hear Jàrri just a few steps behind him, and Rúna in the distance. He rounded a bend, his boots skidding in the mud as he grabbed a tree trunk to keep himself upright and slowed his pace. The trail was narrow and dangerous in these conditions and he could not afford to injure an ankle or leg.

  Jàrri pulled alongside him as the trail widened, and then ran past.

  Like Hel! Jorvan surged forward. He would let Rúna win, but he would not let another man steal his woman from him.

  They had long left Rúna behind when the trail ended at a small meadow littered with the red leaves of the mountain ash trees that towered along the tree line.

  He skidded to a stop beside Jàrri, struggling to pull air into his burning lungs. He knew much of the land around Luleavst, but none of this look familiar.

  A murky stream cut through the meadow, its debris-filled waves crashing and churning with the same fury as the storm overhead.

  He searched along the banks for the next marker. A chill swept up his spine. The stream flowed out of an opening in the side of the rocky cliff, and nearby stood a spear lodged in the earth with two blue ribbons tied below the iron tip.

  Nei!

  Not a cave. He couldn't do it. He couldn't face the damp darkness within, never again.

  Jàrri looked at him and smirked. "Did you think her father would leave it to chance and let you win?"

  Jorvan bristled. Was Rúna's father sabotaging his own contest? He had been so sure they had moved beyond past grievances.

  "I overheard him saying that you were kept underground."

  He clenched his teeth as Jàrri's words sank in. He may have won the Jarl's respect, but the man was determined to ensure his daughter remained beyond reach.

  Jàrri pinned him with a determined stare. "Rúna is a remarkable woman. I want her as my wife and the mother of my children. When I win this race, Rúna's questions will be the final challenge, and she will choose me," he vowed, and then jogged across the soggy meadow and disappeared into the cave.

  Jovan approached cautiously, his heartbeat increasing with every step. He knew what would happen if he lost control of himself—the dizziness, breathlessness, and crushing weight on his chest. But he had to do it, for Rúna.

  He sucked in a fortifying breath and stepped inside, running his hand along the cool rock wall as he moved cautiously along a rocky ledge, testing each step.

  The roar of water was deafening as it rushed by in the stream below, crashing against the rocks on its turbulent journey downstream.

  With each step, he moved farther and farther from daylight into ominous black. He sucked the stale air into his lungs, never quite feeling like he got enough. This was madness. What was he doing?

  A cool draft swished by as something flew overhead.

  He crashed to his knees, and he was back there. Back in the damp cells, that smell of blood and decaying flesh, back listening to the terrified screams of his men. His heart pounded so fast it sounded like one long heartbeat in his ears. He leaned back against the cool rock wall and pulled his knees to his chest as he tried desperately to get more air. It wasn't enough—he couldn't breathe.

  "Jorvan?" Rúna said.

  He sensed her squat down beside him, and then her hand brushed the hair from his eyes.

  "What is wrong?"

  He groaned, unable to speak. He'd never wanted her to see him this way, ever.

  "Is it the dark?"

  He could feel the air in his lungs clawing at his throat, desperate to escape and let the fresh in, but his chest tightened even more. His own body was holding him captive.

  "Breathe, Jorvan."

  The gentle caress of her hand on his shoulder calmed him enough to exhale.

  "Jàrri, something is wrong. He needs our help."

  Rocks crunched beneath Jàrri's boot as he stepped around them. "He will survive. I have the Óðinn carving. Come with me, Rúna. I will wait for you outside and we can claim the victory together." Without waiting for her answer, Jàrri shuffled along the ledge back toward the cave entrance.

  "Blasted man has no heart," Rúna cursed. "Breathe, Jorvan. I am here."

  "Go, Rúna," he gasped out. "You must win."

  Chapter Thirteen

  Rúna

  Rúna hesitated with her hand on Jorvan's shoulder. If she stayed to help him, then she would never catch Jàrri, but the water was rising fast, and if she left Jorvan when he was trapped within his own mind like this then he could drown.

  His body shuddered as he released shaky breaths, and then his hands came up and he pushed her away. "Go, Rúna."

  Nei. She would not abandon him, not when he needed her most. She gripped his head in her hands and pressed her forehead to his.

  "I'll not leave you to die. We will get out of here together." She placed her hand in his and rose to her feet. "Come. The water is rising. We must go."

  Jorvan steadied himself on against the cave wall as she pulled him upright.

  "You go first." As she stepped back to give him room to pass by, her foot slid across a moistened rock and she stumbled. Panic tore at her insides. She teetered for a moment on the edge, her arms flailing desperately as she fell backward.

  The cold stole the breath from her lungs as she hit the water and was pulled under. She swam frantically upward until she burst through the surface.

  "Rúna!" Jorvan's shout echoed like thunder in the cave.

  She gulped down a lungful of air and searched the ledge above for Jorvan as the rushing water tossed her back and forth. Time slowed as she stared up into his terrified blue eyes. All would be well. He would pull her out.

  Then he turned and ran away from her.

  Her stomach dropped. He'd left her. Her heart shattered beyond repair.

  He'd left her to die.

  She looked around wildly, searching for something to cling to and hold herself above the raging water. Her nails scraped across the smooth rock walls and tore as she struggled to find purchase. Then the water pulled her under again, tearing at her from all sides and forcing the air from her lungs as it dragged her down to the bottom.

  Her heart raced as the heavy water held her down, her fingers scraping across the mud as her lungs threatened to burst. Though she fought it, her mouth opened and she sucked in dirty, gritty floodwater that made her lungs burn. Then the darkness consumed her, and she felt herself slipping through the veil to the otherworld.

  Images of her father, her clan, and Jorvan, flashed before her eyes. Moments in time, flashes of a life that was slipping away.

  Nei.

  Fury surged within her. She did not want to die, not yet, not when her people still needed her. The muddy bottom oozed beneath her toes as she kicked off with a renewed surge of hope. She would not die like this. She was a warrior—she would have an honorable death and feast in Valhalla.

  She burst through the surface with a splash and strong fingers grasped one of her hands as her other one caught on a rock. She dug her fingers into the craggy surface and held on, coughing and gasping as she inhaled the damp air. Now that she could breathe and hold herself above the rushing water, she could see a small ledge downstream that she could climb onto and then make her way back up the rock wall. It was not far, but she would have to let go and swim.

  "Rúna..."

  She turned towards his voice.

  Jorvan lay flat on the ledge, half of his body teetering over the edge with his arms outstretched. He squeezed her fingers. "Let go. I've got you."

  "Nei." She couldn't do it. It would be better to risk the swim and rely on herself. "You left me." She focused on the ledge and prepared to kick off the rock.

  "Nei, Rúna. My way is safer. If you try to swim you will die."

  She shook her head, though doubt began to creep in. She needed to make a decision. Her arms burned with fatigue from stru
ggling to stay on the rock. She could not hold on much longer. Should she let go and use the last of her strength to try and swim to the bank or trust him to catch her?

  "Let go, firefly. Let's do it together. Trust me. I love you."

  As she glanced up at him, lying dangerously off the edge and risking falling into the water himself, she could clearly see the anguish on his face at the prospect of losing her. The puckered scars on his chest flashed in her mind—this cave was his worst nightmare, yet he had faced it for her, for the chance to marry her. Walk into the darkness, face death, he would do it all for her.

  Even now, his chest heaved as panic threatened to overwhelm him once more, but his hand remained outstretched. He stayed.

  Realization washed over her. He would not fail her this time. She could trust him with her life. She shivered, looking at her fingers in his grasp. They were blue. Why were her eyelids so heavy? So tired … She let her fingers slip from the rock and threw her hand up over her head as the current took her.

  Strong fingers wrapped around her arm and Jorvan grunted as he dragged her up onto the ledge beside him.

  She sagged against him as she struggled for breath, stiff with the cold. She'd been right to trust him.

  "Gods, you scared me, Rúna." He swept her into his arms. "The flood is making the ledge crumble. We must go."

  She wrapped an arm around his neck and held on as he carried her out into the storm and carefully lowered himself to the ground with her in his lap. His hands swept over her limbs, searching for injuries.

  "You saved me," she said.

  He grasped her face between his cold hands, his voice shaking as he spoke. "I will always protect you, firefly, always."

  A lump formed in her throat. "I thought you were leaving me when I fell in the water and you ran away. I couldn't bear it." Her shoulders heaved, a sob breaking free as she gave voice to her greatest fear.

  His arms tightened around her. "Look at me, Rúna."

  She looked up at him through watery eyes.

  "The ledge was too high where you fell in, so I ran downstream to find somewhere I could reach you as you went past." His blue eyes were lit with a fierce determination. "I love you, Rúna. I will never leave you again."

  "Never?"

  "Never. It was thoughts of coming home to you that sustained me in that dark cave. You were the reason I lived through that nightmare. If you had died in that water, I would have followed you."

  Rúna sobbed, never for a moment doubting that he spoke the truth. He loved her. She pulled him down, her mouth covering his hungrily, her lips moving with the desperate reckless abandon of a woman that had cheated death.

  He pulled back, his breath misting against her face. "In the darkness you were my light. You are my light…"

  With his words, the last of the pain Rúna had used to shield her heart against him shattered and scattered on the blustering wind.

  "Jorvan…" she whispered, and then moaned in approval as he claimed her mouth in another fierce kiss.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rúna

  The next day, as the sun rose on the horizon, Rúna prepared for the wedding ritual. With herself, Jorvan, and Jàrri all claiming one win each, it would be her questions that would decide who would become her husband after all. Her father had not protested the outcome. Mayhap realizing he had almost lost her in that cave had made him see the foolishness of his contest? Whatever his reasons, it was a relief to be in control of her fate once more.

  The mist that invaded the pine forest swirled around her ankles as she warmed her hands at the crackling fire. She curled her toes into the damp moss underfoot and inhaled the earthy air that left a sweet tang of the forest on her tongue.

  Her mother and father stood off to her left, proud smiles on their faces as they watched the clan surround her in a wide circle, their bodies swaying with the slow drumming that echoed through the trees.

  Rúna closed her eyes. She was exhausted from the long sleepless night spent pacing her room as she pondered her choice. She was thankful to be alive, and that Jorvan had saved her, but she wasn't the same girl as five years ago. Her life wasn't so simple anymore.

  She watched the seiðkonur approach, one hand clutching her long carved staff. Her tall bony form was clad in a gown dyed the rich red tones of the lingonberry, and her silver hair, decorated with beads and feathers, fell in gentle waves to her waist.

  "It is time," Seda said, and then blew a carved goat horn to call the men forth.

  Rúna's chest tightened as the masked men entered the clearing. Her eyes flicked between the eagle and lynx, avoiding the wolf she knew followed her every move. As much as she tried, she could not keep her mind from returning to the moment she had first seen him in the wolf mask, before she had known it was her beloved Jorvan, and the wicked response of her body to the dangerous predator with those blue eyes.

  Seda dipped a small twig brush in the cauldron beside the fire and flicked an offering of mead on the damp earth. "The gods foretold of a man of wit, brawn, and heart. Though the contest is tied, there is one that has shown heart." The seiðkonur looked pointedly at Jorvan, before turning her gaze on Rúna. "Yet, there is one final challenge to be decided. Rúna, do you have a final question?"

  Rúna pushed away her doubts and firmed her resolve. "Have you loved before?" she asked, before she even realized the words fell from her mouth.

  The eagle nodded, his eyes sad beneath the white crown of feathers. "Já. I love another."

  "My thanks for your truth, Eagle." She turned to face the lynx.

  "Nei," he said, smoke wafting around his tufted ears and up towards the gods like an omen. "I have never loved." She'd suspected as much. Jàrri Karlsson was free from attachments.

  She turned to meet the steely blue gaze of her beloved.

  "I loved a woman once." Jorvan's voice was thick with emotion. "I was led astray by the promise of adventure and I let her slip away. It was a foolish mistake."

  The eerie green ribbons of the northern lights danced across the sky above him.

  "There is no adventure, no treasure, and no gift greater than a woman's love," he continued.

  "They are pretty words, Wolf. How am I to know they are not empty?"

  He strode toward her.

  Her father stepped forward to intervene, but Rúna raised a hand to stay him. She'd hear Jorvan's answer and lay whatever was between them to rest forever.

  "My heart belongs to her, my firefly."

  Her heart skipped a beat at his words. Time slowed to a crawl. The world around her disappeared as their eyes locked and a new awareness flowed between them.

  The seiðkonur cleared her throat.

  Rúna rested a hand on her hip and looked down her nose at him. "Did you say pretty words to this woman you claim to love, and then sail away?"

  "I'm no longer that boy. I would never leave her again."

  The seiðkonur's lips curved into a knowing smile.

  Rúna watched him, weighing his words. "You are back now. Why wait so long to claim her?"

  "I returned to my father to ask him to negotiate for her hand and learned that she already planned to wed. I came as fast as I could."

  A shocked murmur swept through the clan as they realized he spoke of Rúna.

  "And if she is no longer that girl you knew?"

  "Then, I will love her more for it."

  "And if she chooses another?"

  "I trust her. Whatever she chooses this day, my love and life will always be hers. She is my heart."

  Seda waved her arm and her apprentices began to beat the ancestral drums once more. "Enough delay. Rúna, daughter of Jarl Eriksson, give this cup to the man you choose and you shall be wed."

  Rúna took the cup of honey mead from the seiðkonur's outstretched hands. It was time. Time to choose the life she wanted. She couldn't marry another—her heart belonged to him and she'd be foolish to deny it. The prophecy the seer had foretold was truth. Her Viking warrior was a man of
wit, brawn, and heart. She was his she-wolf, and just like the wolves, she'd mated for life.

  She stepped forward.

  Jorvan stiffened as she moved toward Jàrri Karlsson, his hands balling into tight fists when she paused in front of the man standing beside him.

  She smiled and nodded at Jàrri. "You are a worthy opponent, Lynx. You have represented clan Karlsson with honor."

  Then, she raised the cup and quickly sidestepped to offer it to the man she'd always loved, letting her eyes reveal her mischief. "I choose you, Jorvan."

  He raised his hands, refusing to accept the cup. "I cannot do it like this."

  The colour drained from her vision and the world turned gray.

  He pulled the wolf mask from his face and tossed it aside. "There will be no more secrets—or oceans—between us." His cheek brushed hers as he bent and whispered in her ear. "You'll regret making me think you chose another, firefly."

  She pressed her hand to his chest and stretched up onto her toes. "It was always you," she whispered.

  To watching eyes, it appeared he didn't react, but she heard his sharp intake of breath.

  She traced a fingertip along the faded scar that curved up his unmasked face. It was perfect on her beloved Viking warrior.

  "Rú…" He twined his fingers with hers and tugged her against his chest.

  She sipped the honey mead, and then pressed the cup into his hand. Every part of her knew that this was where she belonged, with him, and with her people.

  "Drink."

  He sipped the liquid she knew he loathed, and then slid a hand up into her hair and pressed his forehead to hers.

  She curled her arms around his neck, her lips curving into a satisfied smile.

  "You are mine now, Wolf."

  Afterword

  Thank you so much for reading Rúna and Jorvan's story. I hope you had a wonderful time with them as they found their way back to each other. Authors love reviews. If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review at your place of purchase.