Married. Wait! What?

by Virginia Nelson

  Stepping back, Mor opened the door and gestured to the interior of the cabin. “Come in then.”

  Attempting to assuage her guilt with food, our table was piled high with treats—fresh made bread, fish, jams—she’d pulled out all the stops.

  “I turned into a yeti,” Betha said as soon as she was seated. “An abominable snowman.”

  “There was nothing abominable about you,” I was quick to reply. “And I don’t know what a yeti is, but I can assure you, you were not a man.”

  “What is going on?” she asked, taking a sip of the cider my mother poured into her cup.

  “We are Jötnar,” Fenris answered quietly. “Ice giants.”

  Eyes widening, her gaze swept from me to my brothers and to Mor. She took another sip of cider, hand shaking. A drop of liquid caught on her lips, and she brushed it away with her fingertips. “Ice giants. Thor, Loki, Odin ice giants?” Her voice lifted in pitch as she listed each of the familiar Norse gods.

  “To a degree,” I answered. “Our people came across the ocean generations ago. Some of us stayed in what you would now call Norway, Sweden, Finland, Denmark—and chose to hide their magic. But our ancestors refused, and so we journeyed here. Made a safe space for ourselves and thrived.”

  “Magic.” Gazing at her hands in wonder, she brushed her fingers together as if she could call up the ice and wind she had earlier.

  “Jötnar were gifted with control of the winter elements. In battle, we were nearly unstoppable, but eventually those people we were meant to ally with, or protect, came to fear us. We’re not the only ones with magic, but for some reason, we are the ones they came to hate.”

  “We can be frightening when the ice calls,” Fenris explained. “You’ve seen us. Are we not monsters?”

  “Am I?” she snapped back. “I’m not stupid. I turned into a yeti. Am I a monster, too?”

  “No,” I replied, dropping out of my chair to kneel at her side. “You were beautiful. The most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”

  Her face softened, and she touched my cheek. Closing my eyes at the sensation, I felt her thumb graze my cheeks. “Thank you, Raynor.” My eyes opened, and she cleared her throat. “I didn’t think any of you looked like monsters. More like, X-Men.”

  “I know X-Men!” Grim burst out. “Wolverine!” He slashed his hands through the air, and I rolled my eyes, but Betha only laughed.

  “You know Wolverine and the X-Men, but not a yeti? Your pop culture dictionary needs an update.”

  Sitting in the chair again, I grasped her hand. Gods, I loved the sound of her laugh, and the way she included us all in the discussion, spending as much time answering Fenris and bantering with Grim, as she did reassuring me.

  “But how am I your fated? And what is a skaoi? And how come I can change? Did you bite me? Is it like that? Did I miss it when you bit me?”

  Mor poured more cider in Betha’s cup as the questions came faster, one after the other. “Jötnar,” she explained, “have bonded mates. Partners chosen by the gods who strengthen and deepen our magic. Before we came here, bonding was common between humans and Jötnar, but here, we have isolated ourselves, and the only skaoi to be found are between tribes.”

  “How have you avoided humans?” Betha’s eyes suddenly widened. “Wait. You’re not like—sister/mother/wives, are you? You’re not their grandmother and their sister and their mother?”

  Mor’s face paled, blue-white ice shimmering over her cheeks before retreating. “Of course not! There are many tribes and many Jötnar. There is not intermarriage between family. That’s disgusting!”

  Pressing a hand to her chest, Betha slumped. “Thank goodness.”

  It took me a moment to catch up, and then I barked a laugh. Grim followed, and then Fenris, the three of us drowning out my mother’s continued explanation and Betha’s apologies.

  “Enough.” In between fits of laughter, I’d dropped her hand. Wiping my eyes, I fought for breath. “Enough.” Intercepting her frown, I reached for her again, pressed the back of her hand against my lips and felt the skin chill.

  “You crashed here, into our family, to be our skaoi. I knew it the moment we pried you from the plane. A woman who survived falling out of the sky, a woman who didn’t panic when she came face-to-face with this—” I jabbed a thumb toward Fenris. “You are ours.” A tear tracked down her cheek, and I brushed it aside. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  Wiping her face, she stared at her wet palms in surprise. “I didn’t mean to.” She lifted her head, turning to my brothers. “So, all of you are meant for me? I don’t mean to be insulting—”

  Mor snorted.

  “But where I come from, one woman marries one person at a time.”

  “It is unusual for a skaoi to be fated for more than one Jötnar,” Mor admitted. “But not unheard of. I’ll admit I hoped for such a thing. I even spoke to their father about it before he died. I didn’t want to see my sons separated from each other.”

  A fist closed around my heart as memories of my father rushed me. He would have liked Betha, liked her spirit and audacity.

  “Why didn’t you wait, though?” Betha asked Mor. “I’ll admit to being drawn to them. Something, I don’t know what, made me feel as if we were tied together in a way. Why not see how it developed, rather than marry us?”

  “Because I wanted to send you away,” Fenris replied bluntly, and I didn’t miss the way Betha swallowed.

  “You didn’t want me?” The woman was unpredictable. One moment she argued not having enough time to make a decision about us, and the next she was upset when Fenris appeared to be saying he didn’t want her.

  “I want you,” Fenris whispered and stood. Keeping his eyes on hers, he walked around the table and pulled her out of her seat and out of my hands. “I want you badly. But my mother has only told you the rosy side of our story.”

  “Rosy?” Lifting an eyebrow, she held up a finger. “Chased out of your homeland and your father dies? It doesn’t sound rosy.”

  Releasing a breath, Fenris began, “The Jötnar are warriors, made for battle. Above all else, strength is valued among our people. If our elders see any sign of weakness, they cut it out.”

  “Fenris,” I hissed, warning.

  “She should know, Raynor,” he replied, smoothing Betha’s hair from her face.

  “Know what?” she whispered.

  “When our elders learn of you, a human skaoi, they’ll try to kill you.”

  8

  Grim

  “Never.” I would never let that happen to Betha. “We’ll go somewhere else, like our ancestors did. There is nothing here I care enough about to stay.”

  “It is safe here,” Mor replied quietly. “For us. The world is more crowded than before. How would you be Jötnar in one of the human cities? Never able to access your magic? Grim…”Standing from her seat, my mother crossed to me, holding my face in her hands like she did when I was a boy and wanted me to pay attention. “My brave boy. Leaving is not an option.”

  “What then?” Fenris snapped. “How do we protect her?”

  My mother’s eyes flashed white and blue, ice crackling along her hands as she clenched her fists. “We fight. We’re warriors. Better we die protecting our family than live as cowards. How could I look your father in the face when we meet again, having told his sons to run away?”

  We’d been lucky living here, battling only each other. None of us had real fights to win. The last great war was decades ago, the time of our great-grandfathers. Still, we were raised as warriors, and I’d pounded my brothers into the dirt enough to know hiding from a challenge was not our way.

  “We fight the elders,” I agreed, nodding. Embracing the idea, my skin rippled with ice, my magic bubbling with anticipation. Yes. Battle! “If they take her from us, they die.”

  “Do they, Grim? It’s that easy?”

  I noticed my brothers had stood, taking a step closer to Betha. I dismissed Fenris’s worry with a wave. “If you�
�re too afraid to do it, then Raynor and I will. It’s probably better if we do anyway.”

  “You goat turd,” Fenris replied quietly. In a flash, he was encased in ice.

  “Outside!” Mor yelled, and I let my magic overwhelm me.

  “With pleasure,” I answered, smiling. I wanted this fight. Needed it. Between Raynor and me, we would smash his face in the mud. Hold him down and take turns—

  “Outside.” Out of patience, Mor held the door open.

  “No!” Betha yelled, running in front of us and placing her hands across the doorframe. “No fighting.”

  “They’ll be fine,” Mor soothed. “Let them go.”

  But she shook her head. “No. You’re brothers. And yes, I know brothers fight, but you’re more than brothers now. You’re my husbands.” As if she was answering a question none of us had asked, she nodded her head decisively. “Yeah. So, I don’t want you beating each other to a bloody pulp.”

  No? Beating each other to a bloody pulp sounded like a fantastic idea, and when I met Fenris’s eyes, I saw he agreed with me.

  “It’s fine.” Fenris held up his hands. “The twins are exaggerating. They haven’t yet bested me.”

  Why you… “Liar.”

  Whipping his head to me, he narrowed his eyes. “Say that to my face.”

  “I just did.” Was he deaf as well as dumb? “I said you’re a liar. Raynor and I have bested you plenty of times.”

  Snorting, he shook his head. “Hardly.”

  “Betha, daughter of my heart,” Mor murmured, waving to my skaoi. “Move away from the door. If you don’t they’re going to smash my kitchen table again.”

  “I won’t.” Stamping her foot, Betha spoke through gritted teeth. “If I am your wife, or skaoi—” The way she managed the word was adorable. “Then you should care about my feelings. And I would be upset, very upset, if you fought each other right now when there are so many other things to talk about. Don’t make me worry about you getting hurt as well being murdered.”

  “I won’t kill him,” I assured her.

  “Not you,” she clarified. “You all would get hurt, but I apparently am about to have some angry giants after me. Why do we even need to tell them? I haven’t seen anyone while I’ve been here, except for you guys. Why can’t we just continue on as we are?”

  Her words had my ice disappearing, though cold fear squeezed my heart when I imagined someone hurting her.

  “They already know.” My twin’s voice was even more rough than usual. “As soon as Mor released the magic to bind us, they knew.”

  “Well, that sucks.” Her arms dropped from the frame, crossing over her chest. Taking a deep breath, she turned from us to stare out the door at our yard. Shoulders tense, she abruptly spun, pinning us with a glare. “Well, if you’re going to fight. I will, too. I’m a big girl. Teach me how to throw my weight around.”

  I couldn’t help it; I laughed. A big girl? My Betha was a sprite compared to us and the elders. Even Mor towered over her by a good arm’s length.

  “No.” Raynor sliced a hand through the air.

  “There’s been a lot of you telling me what is going to happen, and not enough of me telling you,” she answered, a hesitancy to her voice suggesting the thought had only now occurred to her. Foreboding rose in me, much like it did when I walked through the woods at night knowing Raynor was hiding somewhere, waiting for me to pass by.

  “He’s not saying no.” I attempted to smooth the ripples of anger drifting off Betha like waves. “He’s saying a novice fighter, such as yourself, would be ill-equipped against battle-hardened Jötnar.”

  Her smile appeared to me more a promise of reprisal than amusement. “Is he?”

  “No,” Raynor repeated. “I am saying a battle is no place for you. You’re human, Betha. Fragile.”

  “Am I?” With each word she spoke, the air around us grew colder. Fenris’s face was pale, suggesting he was barely holding his magic at bay, while Raynor’s hands were pure white. Mor, however, did not seem bothered by magic and watched Betha with what I feared was anticipation.

  “Raynor,” I whispered. It was unlike my more careful twin to be oblivious to danger.

  “No,” he snapped. “You have to understand, Betha. You aren’t as powerful as they are. They will crush you.”

  All at once, Betha’s eyes turned white and the air seemed to snap around us. She dropped her hands, and a burst of wind and ice flew from her body, covering my twin from head to toe. Never, in all our fights, had I managed such a move. Just as quickly, the ice shattered, tinkling like glass as it hit the floor. Before he could shake the snowflakes from his hair, Betha had released her magic again, this time shackling Raynor’s hands and feet together, unbalancing him so he tumbled to the ground.

  It was a beautiful thing to watch, and I couldn’t help myself; my sides ached with the force of my laughter. “Ha!”

  Even Fenris broke into a smile while our solemn brother struggled with his bonds like a fish caught on a hook. Finally, he slammed his hands and heels on the floor. The ice cracked enough he could muscle his way out of the manacles.

  “Teach me to fight.” Ignoring me and Fenris, our breathtaking skaoi knelt before Raynor, reached for his hands and covered them with hers. She held on tight, knuckles whitening. “Please, Raynor. I want to learn.”

  Once, Raynor had been a rash young Jötnar. One who enjoyed pranks and jokes as much as I still did. Then one day, showing off in front of our friends and tribesmen, his attention broke and a shard of ice slid across his throat. It was a harsh lesson from our Elders.

  Since that day, he’d become meticulous and precise. He did nothing without painful forethought. Now, he was tasked with weighing the desires of our skaoi against his desire to protect her.

  I wanted her safe, and no doubt Fenris did as well. If anything, Fenris was more deliberate, more careful than Raynor. It would kill the two of them to put a human like Betha in harm’s way.

  Except, she wasn’t exactly human anymore. The skill she’d shown earlier in the forest—her speed and her strength—if honed, could be as deadly as any Jötnar who’d been training for battle since they could walk.

  “The thing is”—I squatted next to them, easing myself onto the ground to sit cross-legged—“you are asking us to risk what we value most in this world. I believe, with training and time, you are a force to be reckoned with. But in battle? With the elders, even my prowess”—I winked at her—“which is legendary, will be tested. I can’t do it. I’m sorry.”

  Her blue eyes twinkled as I spoke, and when I winked, she chuckled, knocking into my shoulder with her own. “Cocky,” she muttered.

  I knew that word, and accepting the invitation to prove myself, I moved fast, drawing her face toward mine with a hand behind her neck. The first touch of her lips against mine was like standing naked in a snowstorm. All my senses were swamped. I forgot about everything except her cool lips on mine. When we kissed, there were no elders to worry about, no decisions to be made except whether or not to deepen the kiss.

  There was so much to explore. Her lips were smooth, but her magic added a chill that traveled from our mouths into our blood. When her tongue touched my lower lip shyly, licking as if to take a small taste, I jerked myself away, ready to growl at my brothers to get out. Mor and Fenris were long gone, but Raynor stood at the door and along the connection we’d had since babyhood, was a tug, a yearning I couldn’t deny.

  Before I could glance at Betha to help her understand what it was we’d always shared, needed to share, she reached out a hand. “Raynor,” she whispered, shaky voice betraying her nervousness and hesitancy.

  If I hadn’t already been on the floor, her understanding would have brought me there. She was so perfect. Made for us. My thoughts went briefly to Fenris, but I knew the connection between him and Betha was as strong as the one between her and me. When it was their time, Raynor and I would give it to them. But right now, the stars aligned for us.

  In t
he heartbeat of time it took for Raynor to grasp her hand, he’d clutched her to his chest. Her mouth fused to his, and my already hard cock ached with need. Watching her with Raynor was like standing outside my body. Through our bond, his desire flooded me, doubling my own.

  Lifting onto my knees, I molded myself to her back, and swept her hair to the side to kiss along her neck. Her scent was strong there, near her ear. Sucking gently on her skin, I let my teeth pinch her and was rewarded with a deepening spice of arousal. My gaze clashed with my brother’s, and without words, I nudged her off balance and into his arms. Sweeping her away, he strode toward our room, kicking open the door and laying her on the bed.

  The sun filtered through the windows, muted and soft. Betha’s chest lifted rapidly, her breathing audible from the door. Crossing to them, I placed one knee on the bed, looked across to my brother and nodded.

  It was time to make her truly ours.

  9

  Betha

  Now, I wasn’t a virgin, but I grew up in a household where sex was not discussed and where the birth of cousins and siblings was treated like spontaneous generation. So while I wasn’t a prude by any means, the place Raynor, Grim and I were headed was uncharted territory.

  For me.

  These guys, from the loaded glances and subtle gestures, knew what they were doing, and I wasn't sure if I should be jealous or grateful.

  As if he could hear my thoughts, Raynor focused on me. With gentle fingers, he swept my hair away from my face and kissed me. Lips firm, tongue delving inside my mouth, he mastered me. My eyelids fluttered closed, enhancing each sensation. His mouth was cool, like he’d been drinking ice water before kissing me, and I shivered. At the same time, a cool hand tucked beneath me, urging me upward. Grim slid behind me and a different set of lips touched my skin. The hair Raynor tucked behind my ear was flicked forward, and Raynor chuckled.

  “Grim,” he warned. I opened my eyes, trying not to smile.