An anger that was more manageable now that she had spoken with Grant. Now that she knew nothing would have changed the fate of that awful day. Not even her. Did it still hurt? Very much. But she was tired of living every day fighting a battle she would never win.
She wanted to start fighting a battle she could win.
“Uncle Grant?” she murmured. “Are you still here?”
No answer.
Nothing.
But then he had already given her far more than she deserved and she knew it. Svala held her head and fought back emotion. It wasn’t easy letting her mate go. To know that there was a man out there who truly understood her, that could tolerate her.
She scowled and sighed. Her mate shouldn’t have had to tolerate her but be proud of her. It should have been far easier. For him. Both of them. But she had not allowed it. She had been….difficult.
Too difficult for too long.
What’s worse? As she sat there staring at a Maine coastline that no longer existed, she realized just how strong he had been. How strong he had to be to leave her. Because she knew he did it for the greater good.
To protect her mother.
And that was a battle worth fighting more now than any other.
“Loki’s Hel, I’m sorry,” she whispered to her mother and Sean as she started rowing.
All she could think about was how misconstrued her viewpoint of everything had become. How she had directed all her anger about the raid and then her mother’s illness at Megan. What good had that done any of them? Her frustration at her mother had manifested into something that deteriorated their relationship so much, Megan had sent her away.
Sean had sent her away.
Svala shook her head and rowed harder…away from the fortress.
Vikings worked in a unit. They fought together as a team. That is what made them such great warriors. They protected each other. Yet she had not done that for her mother. She had wanted Megan to fight while she remained disgusted at her for not fighting sooner.
She had not behaved like a Viking, dragon or a good daughter.
She had not fought alongside her mother.
Now she would.
So she kept rowing and hoped, prayed to her gods. How did she get where she needed to be? Was it even possible? She frowned and shook her head. Anything was possible. She refused to accept defeat. If she wanted to go back to her mother, she would.
Nothing would stop her.
When the seas swelled, she didn’t shy away but raised the sail, pulled in the oars and manned the rudder. If this boat could bring her mother to her father then surely it could find its way to one of its builders…to her mate.
Svala pulled her hood on as the ocean grew rougher. She had no idea which way she was sailing. All she knew was that she wasn’t going home. Not yet. Especially when she suspected home was wherever Sean was.
No, she knew it was.
She had made a mistake letting him go.
So she thought of both him and her mother as she let the sail take over and steered the boat. As she prayed to the gods and hoped Uncle Grant would help her along.
Yet the waves grew taller and taller.
Dangerous.
Soon enough she realized her mistake.
Nobody was coming to help.
Grant had given them one chance, and they hadn’t taken it.
Now she was sailing into darkness on turbulent seas as nature only grew more merciless. Even so, she was Viking. So though the oppressive, icy storm bore down on her, she kept going. She faced whatever the ocean had in store.
That’s when she heard it.
The haunting blare of Odin’s horn through the wild weather. Seconds later, she saw a flicker of light. Bit by bit, it grew brighter.
It was the Wild Hunt.
Odin’s hunt.
And it was leading her through the darkness.
“Blessed All-Father,” she murmured moments before the snow cleared enough that she could see where she was. Her boat was closing in on the chalet in Maine, and her mother stood on the end of the dock.
What was she doing out in this weather? What was she thinking? When the trail of spirits from Odin’s Hunt slowed over Megan, Svala’s breath caught. Were they doing what she thought they were doing? They must be.
They weren’t here to guide her but for another reason entirely.
Odin was coming for her mother’s soul.
“No,” she whispered and shook her head. She willed the boat to go faster and screamed, “Do not go, Mother. I am coming, and we will fight together.”
Her mother’s awed gaze rose to the spirits.
This could not be happening. She needed to get there faster.
“No,” Svala cried. “It is not time for you to go to Valhalla yet. I will change. I have changed.” She stood and tore off her jacket. “I will show you, Mother. I will make you proud and fight alongside you.”
When Megan’s eyes stayed on the spirits, Svala knew she needed to take more drastic measures. “Let her live and take me, instead, blessed All-Father,” she roared. “I am Viking, I am dragon and will help defend your great kingdom.”
A split second before she dove, her mother’s eyes met hers and she shook her head.
That was the last thing she saw before she shifted into a dragon and tried to make her way inland. To defend her mother and offer her soul in exchange for Megan’s.
Instead, she lost control.
Not only was she caught in what she surmised was the All-Father’s magic, but the weather was far too violent. She flapped her wings once, twice, then flipped, lost altitude and crashed into the ocean. Though she struggled, there was no stopping the power of the sea as she started to roll and roll, sinking further down.
She couldn’t breathe.
She couldn’t use magic.
Helpless, she shifted back and tried to swim, but the water was too strong…too consuming.
Maybe this was how Odin intended it. Maybe she would not have those final moments to show her mother how much she cared. Maybe he preferred that Svala suffer a dishonorable, weak death because of how she had behaved.
Perhaps this was her ultimate punishment.
She would not have a chance to prove she had changed. Nor would she see her mate again. She had found him only to lose him. But then, had she realized the error of her ways sooner, none of this would be happening. She had no one to blame but herself as the world faded away, and blackness shrouded her vision.
Then all went black.
Silent.
Surprisingly peaceful.
Where was Odin? Or perhaps even Loki? Which god was coming for her?
“Svala, can you hear me?”
That didn’t sound like the powerful voice of a god.
No, it sounded much better.
Sean?
“Svala?” Warm hands cupped her cheeks. “Can you hear me?”
She gasped and struggled to pull air into her lungs. Where was she? What was going on?
She tried to respond to his distant voice but couldn’t. Lights flashed. Emily’s Christmas tree perhaps. Then everything went dark. When she finally managed to pry her eyes open again, she was in the last place she expected.
Sean’s bed.
She inhaled his familiar scent and shivered with awareness. It was so good to smell him again. To know he was close.
“You’re all right, sweetheart,” Sean murmured and tucked a blanket more securely around her. “You didn’t drown.”
“Drown? I was raised on the sea,” Svala croaked weakly. “I do not drown.”
“Yet you did, Daughter,” her mother said softly from the doorway. “And Sean saved you.”
“Mother, you are here,” she whispered, grateful and surprised. “How is that possible?”
When she tried to sit up, Sean stopped her. “Take it easy, Svala. You’ve been through a lot.”
“I do not care about myself,” she bit out, her damp eyes on her mother. “You did not go wit
h Odin after he rejected me? You chose to stay and fight, after all?”
Megan sat on her other side and took her hand. “What are you talking about, Daughter? Odin was not coming for me, but you.” She cupped her cheek. “I was offering my soul in exchange for yours.”
When Megan’s eyes met Sean’s, mutual understanding passed between them. He squeezed Svala’s hand. “I’m going to get you something to drink.”
Her eyes went to the cup on the bedside table. “But I have something to drink.”
He winked. “Then I’ll get you something stronger.”
She understood. He was giving her time alone with her mother.
So she nodded. “Thank you, Sean.”
Svala might have been able to let him go once but even watching him walk out the door now seemed like too much.
“You have been on quite an adventure, have you not, Svala?” Megan murmured, a knowing look in her eyes. “One that has changed things.”
Svala’s eyes met her mother’s, and she nodded. “Yes, in many ways.” Her brows drew together. “How is it that I saw the Wild Hunt come for your soul, yet you saw the same thing happen to me?”
“Only the gods know. I saw you head my way, I felt your dragon’s desperation…then I watched you fall into the ocean.” Megan looked at her with concern. “Are you truly okay?” She eyed her over and tucked the blanket even more securely around her. “Don’t ever risk yourself like that for me again, Svala. Your life must always come before mine.”
“No.” Svala grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “I’ve been self-centered for too long. It is time for me to help you fight your illness so that you can go back to Father. So that you can be reunited with your love.”
A flicker of surprise lit Megan’s eyes. “You don’t sound like…yourself, Daughter.”
“No,” she agreed. “And it is sad that you have to say that. It’s sad that you are right.”
Surprise continued to flicker in her mother’s eyes. “Sean told me some of what happened. That you stowed away aboard one of his boats last night. What happened then?”
“You are not upset that I ran off to begin with?” she said softly.
“Of course I was, at first.” There was a hint of resolve in Megan’s eyes as they searched Svala’s. “But I have become used to such from you.” Her voice softened. “However, I am not used to you being sorry about it.”
“Well, I am if I upset you,” Svala relented. “But I cannot be sorry for the things it showed me…for the things I learned.”
So she shared. Not about Sean as a child. That was for him to tell Megan about if he wished. But she did share what she saw of him with Megan a few years ago then him with Aunt Amber.
“Wow,” Megan murmured. “It sounds like Grant had a mission.”
“Yes.” Svala nodded. “A good one. He showed me things I needed to see and better understand…”
When she trailed off, her mother gave her a knowing look again. “So that you could find your way to Sean?”
Svala nodded and whispered, “Yes.”
“Tell me the rest,” Megan murmured.
So she did. All her memories. From seeing her father again to being at the raid to learning what the enemy had said. How he was looking for Naðr’s youngest daughter.
“You knew,” she whispered. “Just like you and Father knew Sean was my mate, yes?”
“Yes.” Megan squeezed her hand. “We knew.”
“Why not tell me what the enemy said sooner so that I would not grow so angry with you?”
“It was not my truth to tell, Daughter. Or your father’s,” Megan said. “It was gleaned through prophecy, and we must be careful with such things.”
It was?
Though tempted to argue the point, she knew her mother was right. When it came to time travel and the connections forming between her brethren and their modern-day women, it was best to let things happen as they would. Sharing things that were not meant to be shared could be dangerous. It could change the outcome of everything.
“What about Sean being my mate?” Svala murmured. “Why not tell me that sooner?”
Megan’s brows arched. “You already know the answer to that. Had we, it might have affected everything much differently.” She gave Svala a pointed look. “As Grant would say, things such as this must happen without undue influence so that they work out like they should.”
Not that far off from what she was just thinking.
“That is no real explanation at all,” Svala remarked, not mentioning how much undue influence he had used recently. Mostly because she was grateful he had.
“But it is Grant’s explanation, and I’ve yet to see him be wrong,” Megan said. “Especially when it comes to love found across time.”
Svala nodded because her mother was right.
“Was it Grant who told you about the raid?” she asked.
“Yes,” Megan murmured. “But he first learned about it from Cybil.”
Her eyes widened. “Cybil?”
“Yes,” Megan confirmed. “But she does not remember relaying the message.”
Svala’s eyes narrowed. “How can she not remember?”
“Because she was much younger and Grant thought at the time it was best to erase the memory.” Her eyes held Svala’s. “But know this, Daughter, Cybil is a good woman and will make an excellent queen. Even before she met you, she worried about you. Keep that in mind when you see her again. And do the same for Samantha.”
She almost scowled but fought it for her mother’s sake. “What does Samantha have to do with any of this?”
“Not only is she an important seer that will help bridge the gap between our times,” she gave Svala another one of those pointed looks, “but she is your brother’s mate and your future sister.”
Might Odin give her strength. Especially when it came to Samantha. And she almost said as much. Yet this was one of those moments she had a chance to show her mother she was willing to change.
“Okay.” She nodded and focused on truly meaning her words. “If Samantha is to become my kin, then I will protect her as I would any other.” She cleared her throat and managed to add, “I will protect her as I would any other family member I love.”
Megan eyed her for a long, bemused moment. “Do you mean that, Daughter?”
She thought about Bjorn and all the heartache he had been through. “If she truly loves my brother and cares well for him then yes, I mean it.”
“Good girl,” Megan whispered. Pride started to replace surprise in her eyes. “It is good that you’ve had a change of heart.”
Svala nodded. “Yes.” She decided to be perfectly honest. “A change of heart that, of course, will take time, yet I will work hard toward it.”
When her mother nodded, Svala continued. “What is more important right now is seeing after you. I wish to…be a better daughter.” She cleared her throat. “I wish to be a better person to those I care about most.”
“Dear God, what did Grant do to you?” Megan whispered, her eyes wide before she realized what she said and patted Svala’s hand. “I mean…that sounds great. Really, truly wonderful.”
She experienced a sense of lightness at the tears in her mother’s eyes. At the faith, pleasure and belief Megan felt because of her words.
“I should have said this sooner, but I let anger rule me,” Svala murmured, holding Megan’s gaze. “I am truly sorry, Mother.”
“Better late than never, honey,” her mother whispered before she kissed her forehead. “Better late than never.”
After that, they spoke of other things. Sean. The Viking boat. Father. Time travel. Magic. All sorts of things. It was the first time in a long time that they talked for hours. Reconnected. And she had never felt happier.
Eventually, she dozed off. When she awoke, it was to Emily’s voice, sadder than ever.
“Oh no,” she cried from downstairs. “Santa was supposed to bring Auntie Warrioress Svala, Uncle Sean for Christmas, not take him away!�
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Chapter Eleven
NO SOONER HAD Sean walked in the front door when Emily barreled into him. “I’m so glad Santa brought you back, Uncle Sean!”
What was she talking about?
“Of course he did,” Sean said, not sure what else to say.
“But he was out there last night flying around with his sleigh and reindeer and something else really big and ferocious. A dragon, maybe.” Her eyes widened. “Then you were there carrying something through the snow. A present maybe? But when I woke up this morning, you were gone.” Her eyes grew wider still and her tone grave. “So I figured Santa must’ve taken you and your present to the North Pole until he figured out why you were delivering it instead of him.”
She could only be talking about him carrying Svala from the shore last night. As to the rest, he figured at least some of it was true. Everything except the Santa part. In truth, after he stayed up all night worried about Svala, he headed back to the marina to check on his boats.
Shannon shrugged and offered an apologetic smile from the end of the hallway. “Emily has quite the imagination.”
“No worries.” Sean removed his snow-caked jacket, hat and yanked off his boots. “All’s well,” he assured Emily. “Santa and I got our delivery issues worked out.” He ruffled her hair and headed for the kitchen. “What smells so good?”
Sean stopped short when he came around the corner into the kitchen and found Svala with a spatula in her hand. She wore pajama pants, one of his New England Patriots sweatshirts and her hair clipped up in an unruly mess of curls.
He had never seen anything so damn sexy.
And it was obvious when he tried to speak, but his voice caught.
Mema Angie grinned and eyed him over her cup of tea. “Svala has been watching Samantha closely and decided to make pancakes.”
“They don’t smell like Sam’s pancakes,” he finally managed, unable to drag his eyes away from Svala as she flipped them.
“I added some of my own ingredients.” She gestured toward the refrigerator then outside. “My brother knows a lot about herbs and has taught me much.”
A Viking Holiday: The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors' Kin Page 9