The Viking's Wedding

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by Jessica Knight


  I stand between my husband and my father, holding both of their hands tightly. I do not know what happened in the battle, or where Father has been. But for now, he and Einarr have become allies. I’m grateful for it.

  “Father, how are you feeling?” I ask.

  A thousand emotions pass his face, illuminated in the low light. “I do not know,” he simply says. “I do not know.”

  He rests his hand on his sword, gripping it tight as if holding onto it for dear life. I know how difficult this must be for him.

  At last, we turn the final corner to approach the cell my mother is caged in. My father releases my hand and lifts his sword in front of him. Ready to do what must be done.

  We approach the cell, the torchlight slowly revealing the floor in front of us. But as we get closer, the light reveals more and more of the cell.

  And it is empty.

  My father drops his blade in shock. Einarr rushes over and thrusts the torch into every corner of the room.

  She is gone. She is gone.

  “Damn it!” he shouts. It echoes off the stone walls.

  “What is it?” calls Grim.

  “She’s gone!”

  We all glance around, wondering how she may have escaped. Wondering where she is now. Wondering what to do.

  “What shall we do?” I ask. “Einarr, what shall we do?”

  What shall we do?

  What shall we do?

  Epilogue

  Einarr

  “It’s too soon!” Thyra yells as she clutches her stomach. Her water broke, but she is three weeks early. “Einarr, I am scared. I’m scared.”

  “I know, I know,” I hold her face as she cries. I’m doing everything I can to hold it together for her. She needs me to be strong. She needs a Warlord, but hell, I’m fucking scared. I’m so damn scared. Three weeks early. What the hell are we to do? What if my baby does not live? I will die. I will fucking die if anything happens to either of them.

  We have heard nothing from her mother or the Jackals in recent weeks. But now, all that seems like a distant dream. All I can focus on now is my love.

  “Thyra, I need you to push,” Leiva says between Thyra’s spread legs.

  Thyra shakes her head. “No. I will not. It is too soon. I won’t have my baby right now.”

  I dab a wet washcloth on her forehead, trying to get the sweat to lessen. She is drenched with it. My hand shakes as I put it in the basin of water and wring it out. I’m a bloody fucking mess.

  “You must push my love. You must. I know you’re frightened, Thyra. I know, but if you don’t, you and the babe will not be safe. I need you to push.”

  “I don’t want to!” she screams as another contraction hits, and then, she falls into a limp heap on the bed, sweating and tired. My heart breaks. My love is crying, sobbing, tired. And there is nothing I can do about it. I cannot fix this.

  Leiva dips her head further between Thyra’s legs. “That’s it. You can do it. I see the head, Thyra. Keep going.”

  “I’m sorry, Einarr. I’m so sorry. I can’t stop. I’m trying. I’m trying, but I can’t stop,” Thyra mutters, staring at me with pure agony.

  I grab her hands, kissing her fingers as I fight my own emotion. “Thyra, all shall be well. I love you. I do not blame you. Have our baby. He or she is coming, whether we like it or not. Later, we can try again if you want. I just need you. Alright? I need you. So push. Please. Push.”

  She nods, and her stomach contracts again. The scream she lets out is that of a warrior.

  “That’s it, Thyra! Push, push. The head is out. You are almost there. You can do it,” Leiva praises.

  The screams Thyra lets out causes my ears to ring.

  “I can’t do it. I can’t,” she sobs.

  “You can. You can. I know you can. It’s fine. I’m here. Push, Thyra. I need you to push, my love.”

  “Thyra!” Lord Troy runs into the medical corridor.

  “Father!” she cries even harder. He sits down on the other side of her, placing his forehead against hers. “The baby is early. I can’t push. I can’t. Father, I don’t know what to do.”

  “You shall do what your body says. You will push. I know, I know it’s scary,” he tries to shush her after she shakes her head. “I’m here. I’m here for you.”

  I never thought I’d say this, but I am glad Lord Troy is here.

  “One more big push, Thyra,” Leiva whispers.

  Thyra bears down and lets out one more scream. It’s long, much longer than the others.

  “That’s it. That’s it, Thyra. You’re doing so good,” Troy praises.

  A deep, pained groan leaves Thyra’s mouth, and Leiva pulls out a baby. My child.

  She cuts the cord and begins working fast. She holds the child upside down and spanks the back. Goop flies out of the little one’s mouth. I’m not even paying attention to see if the child is a girl or boy. I just want to hear the wee thing cry.

  “Come on. Come on,” Leiva grits, giving it one more smack on the small back.

  A loud cry echoes through the room. Everyone breathes a sigh of relief, Leiva included. “Thank goddess. You gave us a fright, little one.”

  Leiva wraps the child up and places it in Thyra’s arms. “Congratulations, Thyra. Warlord. You have a baby girl. And she isn’t as young as we thought. You must have been pregnant longer than I suspected. She seems healthy.”

  “Oh, look at her,” Thyra smiles, tears running down her eyes. “She’s perfect.”

  I run my large finger down my daughter’s cheek. My hand is bigger than her entire body. Goddess, what if I drop her? What if I hurt her?

  “You want to hold her?” Thyra says, placing my daughter in my arms before I can even say anything.

  Once she is there, safe and snug in my embrace, I can’t help but cry. My daughter. She is alive. She is well. My wife is safe. Yes, there are external threats, but those will be taken care of soon. Right now, my family is happy and healthy.

  My breath catches when her small fist wraps around my index finger. “My goddess, look. She is holding me.”

  “Of course, she is. You’re her father. I love holding you too,” Thyra says with heavy, tired eyes.

  “Everyone out. Only mother and father are allowed in here. They need their time with the wee one.”

  Grim pats my shoulder for congratulations, and Sassa kisses Thyra’s forehead. Soon, we are alone with our daughter, sitting there, staring at her beautiful face. Leiva cleans Thyra up, and the little one latches onto her mother’s tit, drinking milk.

  “Drink up, little one,” I whisper.

  “She’s a girl,” Thyra says. “She can fall in love with little Erik.”

  “We talked about this. No. Absolutely not. Never happening.”

  “We shall see,” Thyra never takes her eyes off her daughter.

  “She has your face. Lucky girl.”

  “I bet she has your heart,” Thyra stares at me with nothing but love. I have no idea what I have done to deserve such a thing.

  I kiss her lips, sweaty from labor, but still tasting of love and life. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, Einarr.”

  I hear a tiny voice from outside the hall. “Let me in! Let me see!”

  “No, wait, Abigale!” says Abram. “You can’t go—”

  It’s too late. Abigale barrels into the room, Abram haplessly trailing behind her.

  “I want to see my little sister!” she squeals.

  Thyra and I let out a hearty laugh. She waves the two over to her side.

  Abigale’s eyes are wide with wonder. “What’s her name?”

  “Aye, are we going to name her?” I ask, raising my brows when my daughter stops feeding and lets out a large wail.

  “Oh, goddess, come here.” I pick her up and pat her back until she burps and spews milk all over me. I don’t mind. I embrace it. Just like this life the goddess has given me.

  “You’re a natural. I knew you would be.”

 
“What about, Deloise? It means Warrior of Glory. That’s what she is to me,” I say. My heart clenches when the wee one opens her eyes. I think she likes it. “Oh, you have your mother’s eyes.” Green eyes, staring directly into my soul.

  “I love it. Deloise Hohlt, daughter of the greatest Warlord, and loving husband, Einarr Hohlt.”

  “You’ve turned me into a sap, Thyra.”

  Deloise yawns and settles against my chest. Her small hand finds my beard, clutching onto it with strong might. My heart in this moment is so full. A life of death and scars, but it is replaced with love and light. My family surrounds me with more love than I ever thought possible.

  There were so many nights where I wished for this, this life, this moment. I never thought I’d have it. I lived in the darkness and death. I only knew of my blade to keep me safe, but now I know there are other ways to be protected.

  Love. It is the greatest shield of all.

  “Deloise Hohlt, daughter of Thyra Hohlt, the keeper of the lost soul.”

  The soul who found its home in her heart.

  THE END

  Click here to read Grim & Sassa’s story in The Viking’s Bride now.

  I tried to run. But there’s nothing he won’t do to have me.

  I was forced to marry a ruthless Viking Warlord.

  Now, I’m carrying his twins.

  Grim is big, fierce, and handsome beyond words.

  But he's a killer, feared by all.

  I can’t believe my father would force me to marry this barbarian.

  Could a man like that ever love anyone, let alone me?

  We’re from two different worlds.

  Being with him in fantasy is far different than reality.

  A happy marriage seems impossible.

  So, I ran. But he found me, put me over his shoulder.

  And brought me back to be his bride.

  I hate how his gruffness makes my body yearn.

  I hate how his touch drives me wild.

  But what if there's more to him than a broken and vicious warrior?

  Could I get the happily ever after I've dreamed off?

  Or will I always be his captive bride?

  Click here to read The Viking’s Bride now.

  About the Author

  A writer, mom, and a lover of all things romance.

  Jessica Knight loves to spend her free time crafting stories and writing about different characters into her journal. With a lot of nudging, pushing, and help from her best friend. She decided to share her romance stories with the rest of the world.

  When she’s not busy wrangling kids or taking care of her household. She finds herself lost in writing. Deep in the world that she created.

  Get Your Free Copy of Viking's Claim.

 

 

 


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