Isn't she heavy?
No. Haven't you noticed I'm a manly man?
Actually, I have. Have you been working out?
I laughed and the two men stared at me in confusion. “Sorry,” I answered. “Go on.” I waved my hand at them. “Keep arguing.”
Second adjusted his grip on me. I sucked in a breath when he tweaked a sore spot. The guys stopped arguing for a moment before First began to point at me, his voice rising until he yelled.
* * *
It felt weird to lounge against the giant man while they argued. Perhaps I could sneak away, give them the chance to fight in private. That pine tree looked like a good place to take a nap.
My eyes opened, and I yelped. In front of me sat an older woman, her blue eyes piercing mine.
“Hello,” I greeted, holding out my hand. “I'm Betha.”
She eyed my hand and then ignored it. As she stood and moved away, I took advantage of being released from her laser glare to examine my surroundings. I was in a bed in a large open room. The mattress beneath me was soft. When I pushed to sit, my hands sunk into it like it was filled with down. Rocking from side to side, I realized it was. I groaned in relief then blushed when a chuckle erupted from the other side of the room.
The woman stood a small ways away, kneading dough on top of the stone countertop. Her attention went back to her task, and I went back to studying the room. Doors on one side made me think there might be separate bedrooms and a bathroom, or perhaps a stairway leading to a second floor. I canted my head to the side, listening for footsteps above me, but I didn't hear anything.
Was this the main living space? In addition to my bed, there was an alcove with wooden chairs bedecked in heavy cushions. Yellow light flickered over a rough-hewn table big enough to comfortably seat men like those who'd saved me. I counted six giant chairs, all of which reminded me of a fairy tale—Papa Bear chairs.
The entire room was a weird combination of old technology and new. There was clearly electricity, but there were no modern appliances. No refrigerator, no coffee pot. It was like I'd landed in some off-the-grid bed and breakfast.
And the woman's clothes… they were beautiful, but simple. She wore a long, brown skirt, which may have been made of some sort of animal skin, and a beautiful sweater, dyed in shades of indigo. Even with the distance between us, I could see it was all handmade.
Oh God. What if this was a cult? I narrowed my eyes, watching her knead the bread, waiting for her to put roofies in it or something.
Suddenly, she rapped on the window in front of her, calling to someone outside.
I swung my feet off the mattress and pushed myself to stand. Bad idea. The woman spun around to face me, then pointed from me to the bed.
“I'm fine,” I told her. I wanted to be on my feet. Lying down left me at a disadvantage. She strode toward me, pointing to the bed and me again. This close, I realized she was taller than me, but I hoped her age would work in my favor. I could use my weight, because even if she was taller, I was definitely more solid. “No. I'm fine.” I gripped the wooden headboard, just in case what I said wasn't true, and the woman threw her hands up. The frustration in her tone reminded me of First and Second, and I looked around. Where were they?
A blast of cold air answered my question. First and Second kicked the snow off their boots at the door while the woman talked at them. Thrusting a broom at First, who accepted it to sweep the snow out the door, she continued at times pointing at them and other times at me.
Second ignored the woman as he entered, then strode toward me. My mouth went dry, seeing all that muscle and purpose headed my way. My head was clearer now, and I could really take him in.
He was still tall, but inside, with chairs and a table to measure his size against, he was gigantic. He wore the same fur coat, which covered him from shoulders to ankle. It was a rough look, and I found myself wondering if he killed whatever animal he wore. It would make sense, given the rest of this place. He shrugged out of the coat as he walked, and I nearly moaned aloud when his body was on display. His shoulders and arms filled out the shirt he wore beneath it, and I swore to God, he had on buckskins.
Or what I imagined buckskins to be.
Maybe when he got a little closer I could pet him and find out.
Over his shoulder, I caught his brother staring at me, and I blushed even further, as he'd clearly seen my head to toe scan of his twin. Rather than be angry, he smiled. Then, with a move any all-guy review dancer would envy, peeled out of his coat.
Second growled at me, his voice lifting at the end and distracting me from his brother. He was asking me something. Was I hurt? Was I fine? Was I going crazy?
The answer to all these questions was maybe, so I shrugged and scrunched my nose. “I have no idea,” I answered, and he smiled.
Oh hell. He was even more beautiful when he smiled. A dimple appeared in both cheeks, and his eyes lit up. I had to curl my fingers into fists to keep myself from poking them into those dimples. Did First have dimples, too? I peeked at him, but he was busy talking with the woman.
Second began to speak, and I tried to catch the gist of what he was saying, swaying toward him. He even smelled better without the wind whipping his scent away, like snow and pine needles and this indescribable musk I just wanted to roll in. If I was a cat, I'd fall asleep in his shirts. My entire body ached as the scent filled my nose, and I took a step toward him before stopping short.
Second had gone silent, and the smile disappeared from his lips. His nostrils flared as he breathed in deeply, and then he was touching me. His chest pressed to my chest, hands digging into my back. I twisted a little when he came too close to the bruise on my side, and he immediately stepped away.
“No,” I whimpered. I wanted the heat and the smell back. My world shrunk as his brother appeared at Second's side and, yeah, I went a little crazy. The scent, the delicious overwhelming scent of them, was everywhere, and I had to get closer.
I snagged First's hand, pulling him closer and stood on my tiptoes to bury my face in his neck. The scent was stronger there, and it made my head spin. Lips touched my neck. I glanced over my shoulder to see Second's dark head tucked against me. Off-balance, I stumbled into First, who steadied me by wrapping his hands around my waist. His gaze bore into mine.
I lingered, studying him. Savoring him. I traced his jaw with my hand, amazed at how far I had to reach, and how, despite my height and breadth, he dwarfed me. It was nice to feel small for once.
The door slammed against the interior wall, and then an unfamiliar voice burst out.
I didn't speak whatever language these guys did, but I knew a, “What the fuck?” when I heard it.
4
Fenris
I had to hand it to my brothers. Given an opportunity, they could certainly take advantage. I'd gone hunting for one month. One.
And we'd existed here without interference from the outside world for a millennium, but there they were. And here she was.
A human.
“Fenris,” my mother warned.
I ignored her, not even kicking the snow off my boots before I strode to the twins who'd made my life harder since the moment of their birth.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
My mother slapped her hand against my chest. “Leave it.”
I sucked in a breath to argue and stopped. Oh no. My mother's eyes widened, and then she smiled. It was the most dangerous smile I’d ever seen in my life. In my younger days, it would have made me quake in my boots.
It smelled like summer in here. Like heat, and sunshine, and the forest right before the rain. I closed my eyes, letting the scent wash over me. As one, my brothers turned, blocking the sight of the human from me, but I ignored them. They were big, but I was bigger. And they were two, but I was older, smarter, and a lot faster. Planting one boot on the ground, I leapt up.
My mother cried out, not in fear, but instead calling, “Don't break anything!”
Using my mo
mentum and weight, I knocked aside my brothers, tackling them to the ground. For a blessed second, I saw blonde hair—bright like the sunrise—and a wide-eyed freckled face. My brothers were on their feet in seconds, moving as one. Together they grabbed my arms, dragging me toward the door.
This wasn't what I expected. My goal was to knock them aside and get closer to the human and her mouth-watering scent. To figure out what it was that appealed to me in a way that bypassed all my thoughts and went straight to my desires.
They dumped me unceremoniously in a snowbank, but I was up again and at them.
I had to get inside. It was my only goal.
“Dammit, Fenris!” Grim yelled, pushing me back.
“I got him,” Raynor huffed, his broken voice even more hoarse when he was out of breath.
He has me? Hardly. Putting all my muscle behind it, I tackled them, one arm across each of their chests, and slammed them into the ground. As I reared back, ready to get to my feet, a bucket of freezing water slapped my face.
“Enough.” My mother thrust the bucket into my chest, knocking the air out of me. “Stay outside. I need to clean my house, and I need to do it without worrying you're going to freak the human out.”
“Mor—” I used the name for my mother I hadn’t said since I was a child.
“If you want to make a good impression, give her some space. She doesn't even understand you.”
I stopped, her words piercing the haze of my determination. I didn't want to scare her, and I didn't know why I was acting the way I was. Her scent had clouded my mind and driven me insane.
“We need her out of here,” I ground out, backing away from the house where temptation lay. “Use the radio. Alert the authorities, and we'll drop her in a clearing far away from here.”
“You can't!” Grim argued, but I held up my hand.
“I'm the eldest. The decision is mine. Something isn't right with her. Get her out.”
Without waiting to hear another word from my brothers or mother, I ran. With the human's scent still teasing my nose, I barreled through the snow, putting as much distance between us as I could.
I made it as far as the rocky shore before I had to stop. As I’d run, things had become clearer. There was no other explanation for my behavior.
I’d scented the human, and I’d had to be closer. I had to see her.
Beneath my skin, my magic hummed. Stripping off my jacket and clothes, I let the frost overwhelm me, covering my skin in a hard layer of white. But the ice didn’t touch my heart. I put my hand over it like I could ease the growing ache, but it was impossible. Now that I’d recognized the human for what she was, I needed to return to her.
Impossible.
I couldn’t. There had never been a human skaoi before. And then there were my brothers. What was happening with the twins? Why would they be so protective of my skaoi?
Unless, she wasn’t mine.
She had to be. There was no other explanation for my behavior.
And yet it couldn’t be.
I would have to deny the bond, deny the pull of my magic to a human who had none. To bond to a human would put all the Jötnar at risk. In this age of technology, when humans had more than telephoto lenses and could transmit their proof of our existence across continents in less than a second, such a bonding was all the more impossible.
So why did my magic quake and twist at the idea of denying what I felt?
Behind me, footsteps dislodged the rocks, kicking them into the waves. “What do you two want?”
“She’s our skaoi,” Raynor announced, speaking for himself and Grim.
I turned to glower at my brothers. Grim’s arms were crossed. He wore his magical form, covering himself in his ice, as did Raynor. They were as off-balance as me to appear like this in daylight. We were usually in better control of ourselves.
“She can’t be your skaoi; she's human,” I argued, leaving out the part about her being mine as well. As out of control as we were, the declaration would only bring discord. On second thought, I could use a good fight. “And she’s my skaoi.”
“Impossible,” Grim blurted, eyes going white. Good. He was getting angry.
“It’s true. But none of us are bonding to her. She has to go back.”
“No.” Raynor’s eyes were as white as Grim’s. His hands clenched, the white darkening, becoming thicker, harder. Protection for the battle he was about to initiate.
“I’m sending her back. It doesn’t matter who she is, what matters is what she is. No Jötnar will bond to a human. It will be the end of us.”
“No,” Grim replied, and threw himself at me.
We rolled, the water crackling where it met our skin. Ice formed then disintegrated as it was smashed by the waves. I got him under me and drew back my fist, but Raynor tackled me.
The fight began again. Grim waited for an opening to slam me into the ground, and when it looked like I would have the upper hand, Raynor tossed himself into the fray. Unlike the other fights we'd had which generally ended in a draw, something spurred my brothers on. When I thought they’d exhausted themselves, they worked in concert. When Grim needed a breath, Raynor fought harder.
I’d always been bigger and stronger. This was the first time they’d ever given me a true fight. One I wasn’t sure I could win.
The air was filled with the sound of ice breaking, of one, or both, or all of us flailing in the water. Grim and Raynor faced me and leapt. One went high and the other low, and my head hit a rock, cracking against the surface. My vision dimmed, and my coordination slowed.
“Give up,” I told them. “No matter how long this lasts. If you pound me into nothing, it still can’t happen. Imagine the damage her presence could do. Imagine what the elders would do when they learned of her.”
“You’d give her up without a fight.” Raynor growled.
“I’m being realistic.”
“You’re being a coward,” Grim countered.
“Am I?” I asked. “We bond to her, and what then? What happens when the tribes come to pay their respects and they see a human? A woman weak and unable to protect herself. They’ll turn her to dust where she stands. She has no magic, no power. And then there are our children. Would they be human or Jötnar? How would they protect themselves against stronger giants? Do you see the impossibility of it?”
As my words filtered through the haze of their anger, the fight left my brothers. Their skin turned from white to pink. The magic inside them left them looking the way I’d last seen them at the cabin—clad in furs and skins.
“It’s not impossible,” Raynor whispered, though I could see now he believed as I did. He continued to deny the knowledge that we were not meant to bond to our skaoi. Not for our own well-being, but for hers, and those of our children. “It shouldn’t happen this way. If the gods chose her for us, we should be with her.”
“Maybe we aren’t meant to be with anyone,” Grim interrupted. “A skaoi for both of us?” His gaze held Raynor’s. “It was too good to believe.”
His earlier certainty bled completely now, and Raynor nodded. “It was.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. It hadn't been my intention to break my brothers’ hearts, but there was no other way for this to end. Inside my chest, my heart cracked. I felt my magic surge inside me, a frisson of power beneath my skin turning to ice. I had merely seen the woman’s eyes, and it gutted me to know she couldn’t be mine. What would my brothers feel, who I knew had touched and held her?
“Do we return?” Grim asked, his voice as husky as Raynor’s. I nodded.
“We protect her and mother tonight, and in the morning, we bring her to the clearing.”
“And then what?” Raynor asked.
“Then we try to forget.”
From my brothers’ faces, they believed such a thing as unlikely as I did.
5
Grim
Our trek back home was silent except for the occasional crackle of ice on our skin when our power surged. I knew m
y twin suffered as much as me, but I was too consumed by my own hurt to ease his pain.
As we moved through the forest, I cast glances around. I’d followed Fenris to the shore, determined to make him see my way. Despite my anger, I’d been hopeful, and I’d passed my favorite spots with the idea of showing them to our skaoi. I’d even imagined my bonding, overwhelmed with joy that it would include my twin, and I’d never have to choose between him and the woman the gods chose for me.
I’d been stupid.
Fenris was right, and I hated him for it. The tether holding me to my eldest brother snapped, leaving me adrift. Even Raynor was lost to me. Emerging from the trees as the sun began to set, we met our mother at the door of our home.
“Idiots,” she cursed at us through clenched teeth. “This is a blessing. A skaoi is a gift from the gods, and you are fools to discount it. She is meant for you. For all of you.”
“She’s human,” Raynor whispered. I glanced at him, but he stared at the ground. I’d never seen my brother unhappy.
“So what?” Mother snapped. “There are three of you. You can protect her.”
“And our children? What of them? We don’t live forever,” I retorted, and Mor’s face paled. I hadn’t meant to remind her of the death of our father, but merely the fact that we wouldn’t be around to protect our children, or our children’s children, against those who sought to hurt them.
“Jötnar are set in their ways, but we aren’t unyielding. We can change.” My mother threw up her hands. “Our ancestors lived among humans for generations! Still do if the stories are true. So, we chose to live away from the humans. Perhaps it is time for us to reevaluate our place in this world.”
“I won’t have the woman I bond with test this theory of yours. Better she live away from us than die by our sides.”
Mor stared at the ground and shook her head sadly. “You’re fools. I’ve raised fools.” With that parting shot, she walked back to the cabin, yelling over her shoulder, “Fools sleep outside!”
Married. Wait! What? Page 20