Please let him answer.
Please let him be on board.
But she should have known better.
He wasn’t done with Vigdis by any means.
One strong hand wrapped around the seers’ throat before he yanked her off the bed and made her face Sam. “Tell her why you’re here, Seer. I might not be able to shift, but I know you’re using Samantha.” His eyes narrowed on Sam. “You helped her somehow.”
Sam shook her head, confused. “No, I didn’t. What are you talking about?”
“You did, Samantha.” His grip tightened on Vigdis. “Tell the truth, and I will let her go.”
Seriously? She didn’t know what to make of the look in his eyes. The pure hatred. Somehow she had become the enemy.
Sam shook her head and met the seers’ eyes. “I have no clue what he’s talking about.”
“But you do,” Bjorn said.
Sam had a split second to process what was happening before she was back against the wall with Bjorn’s hand around her throat and his other hand pinning her hipbone. Now he wore brown leather pants as his face came closer and he narrowed his eyes. “I have had enough of you woman.”
Baffled by his behavior, she spat, “I was sticking up for you!”
Or just plain jealous. But he didn’t need to know that.
“Everything you do is for yourself, Samantha,” he said, his voice riddled with disgust. “When things do not work out for you, it is everyone else’s fault. You create havoc wherever you go because you cannot work out the relationships in your own life.” His jaw tightened, and his voice became more threatening. “You blame this man Rick for where you are now but—”
Sam slapped him so hard his next words were cut off.
He raised his hand to slap her only to have Vigdis push between them, her eyes on Bjorn. “Leave her alone, Dragon. I will tell you what you wish to know,” she shoved against his chest, “but leave her alone.”
“I would not have hit you,” whispered through her mind. “I am trying to draw her out.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed. Was that Bjorn’s voice in her head? It had to be. Lord, did it feel irritatingly awesome. Arousing. But she couldn’t focus on that right now. Not when he was so smoothly tricking the seer.
“Then tell me, Vigdis,” Bjorn seethed, not backing down as his eyes remained locked with the seer’s. “Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll release Samantha.”
“Step away from her,” Vigdis said, her voice dangerous. “And I will.”
“No, it does not work that way.” He flexed his hand around Sam’s neck. “Tell me, and I might let her go.”
“Might?”
Sam was surprised to hear the seer’s voice waver. Who knew she would have such a strong reaction? Bjorn, apparently.
“Might,” Bjorn confirmed, ruthless. “Vigdis, tell me why you no longer protect my King.”
“You mean why am I no longer enslaved by your king,” she spat.
“There are few as merciful and kind as Heidrek, so I will not be swayed by your opinion.” When Bjorn squeezed Sam’s neck tighter, she faked a gasp. “Tell me now.”
Playing along, Sam’s eyes met Vigdis’, pleading.
“Remember, I will not hurt you,” Bjorn said into her mind.
“I know,” she responded through her thoughts, hoping he got the message.
“Tell me now,” Bjorn roared.
The seer’s eyes widened on Samantha, and she shook her head. “Do not hurt her. I will tell you.” Vigdis looked at him. “Release her and I will.”
“Tell me, and I will release her,” Bjorn reiterated.
“Your new king let me go,” Vigdis said softly, her eyes still wide and concerned. “He sent me here to check on everyone.”
Bjorn frowned. “You mean ordered you.”
“A bit of both.” Vigdis rolled the stones around in her hands. “The only way I could make it here without anyone knowing was to leave my bones with your king.”
So her stones and bones had been separated?
“What does that mean? What do those stones and bones mean?” Sam gasped, acting as though it was difficult to breathe.
The seer’s eyes met Bjorn’s. “It means I am the only form of communication between you and your Fortress.”
The mild threat in her voice wasn’t going to make him happy.
Bjorn’s brows arched, his voice alarmingly soft. “Is that so?”
“It is.”
“Then tell me everything I wish to know, seer. Are my people safe? My father? King Heidrek?”
When Vigdis merely shrugged, a tepid smile ghosted Bjorn’s face moments before he released Samantha and dragged the seer out of the cave. While still tempted to try and stop him, Sam knew better. She saw the look in his eyes when Vigdis wouldn’t respond. And she saw his pain when he asked about his father and didn’t get an answer. Now Sam knew the truth. He might act unfeeling and cold, but one thing was for sure.
He worried about his father…feared for him.
But deep down she already knew that. How could she not?
By this point, Sam figured nothing she did was going to stop Bjorn, especially when it came to Vigdis. She didn’t have that kind of power over him and truth be told, she didn’t want it. He was rough, overly disciplined, and had a one-track mind. She wouldn’t wish him on her worst enemy. There was no reasoning with him. Yet she couldn’t help but agree with his discontent and lack of trust when it came to the seer. Vigdis made no sense, and now, she was vaguer than ever. She may have defended Samantha, but what was her motive? It certainly wasn’t because she cared.
They entered a massive cave with a fire crackling at its center.
“Release her, Nephew,” came a deep, masculine voice.
“Now,” came another.
Sam hung back as Bjorn shoved Vigdis forward and two older men strode into view. Maybe in their fifties, she could admit they were handsome. One had salt and pepper hair, the other blond dusted with white. Amber had arrived and with her was an attractive older woman with light brown hair.
“What is happening at the Fortress?” the man with blond hair said, not happy as he circled Vigdis.
“I am here to help,” Vigdis said softly as her eyes found Samantha. “In any way I can.”
“Tell us,” the darker haired man ground out. “Now.”
The seer’s eyes went to the man before she purred, “Kol, this isn’t like you.” Then her eyes slid to Amber, and she dished out a shitty innuendo. “So angry when you’re usually so amorous.”
“You little bitch,” Amber growled and started forward before Kol caught her around the waist and pulled her back against him, his eyes narrowed on the seer. “Tell us what we need to do to keep our kin safe, Vigdis. Aella would want it.”
Samantha frowned. As head seer, Kjar’s wife Aella mentored this woman and had a great deal of control over her, but now she wondered, did anyone—bones and stones aside—ever really have control over Vigdis?
“Why so angry?” Vigdis grinned at Amber, her eyes a little crazy. “Though I tried, Kol never strayed from you, woman.”
Sam frowned. Hell. The seer was becoming a more stellar character by the moment.
“Answer the question, Vigdis,” the blond guy said.
“Of course, Raknar,” she murmured. Vigdis rubbed her belly and pouted as her sly eyes went to the tall, picturesque brunette. “Have you finally given up then, Veronica? Too late in life for a babe?” A little smirk came to her lips. “Or are you just not able?”
Did the seer seriously just say that? Why did she have to be so cruel? Fire flared beneath Sam’s skin as she tried to make sense of it…those words. Unable to see past her own emotions, her sudden anger, Sam strode forward. “Hey, Vigdis?”
When the seer turned to acknowledge her, Sam tagged her hard. Nothing felt better—and worse—than her fist connecting with flesh before Vigdis stumbled back and landed flat on her ass.
Sam leaned over her and bit out, “Whatev
er your bullshit role is in all this, know one thing.” Sam poked her chest. “You don’t get to pick on women and their children or lack thereof.”
“Is that right?” Vigdis said, another one of those silly grins on her face.
“That’s right.”
Sam didn’t think twice but tagged her again and knocked Vigdis out. She shook and then cradled her stinging fist. Cybil might say she couldn’t fight, but if riled up enough, Sam knew how to throw a punch. And the longer she was in the tenth-century, the more readily she seemed inclined to do it.
Ignoring the pain, Sam realized everyone was staring at her. Oh, shoot. She’d just knocked out someone they wanted answers from.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I’m not sure what came over me.”
But she knew exactly what had come over her.
Sam recognized a kindred soul.
She had heard about Veronica. About how she had lost her young son when she lived in the future then a full grown daughter here in Scandinavia. But there was more. Things Sam sensed. Veronica had lost a child before he or she was born. Though Samantha might not be able to relate to the first two, that last one drove a stake right through her heart.
“It’s okay, Samantha,” Amber said softly and urged her to sit as she handed her a skin of mead. “We’ll get the answers we need when Vigdis wakes up.”
With a thankful look in her eyes, Veronica nodded before, unbelievably enough, she said, “Raknar, put the seer in our bed until she awakens.”
“Kodran, keep an eye on Vigdis,” Amber said. When Tait thought he would join him, she shook her head. “Not you, Tait.”
“She should be watched by more than—”
“Not you, Son,” Kol said, a heavy frown on his face as he sat beside Amber. “The seer’s emotions are up, and we all know what that means. She lashes out and says things she doesn’t mean. Or she tries to lie with anyone willing.”
“I am not willing,” Tait defended.
“Nobody is more willing.” Amber pointed at a log. “Sit. Your brother can handle Vigdis.”
Sam found that a little hard to believe. Kodran seemed just as lusty as Tait.
Though reluctant, Tait plunked down next to an attractive teenager who could only be Runa. She was an exact replica of Amber. Brown eyes shimmering with curiosity, she smiled and introduced herself.
Sam smiled in return, grateful to finally meet a female cousin less intense than Svala.
“Bjorn,” Veronica said softly when silence fell. She was prompting him to introduce Sam to everyone.
Outside of their obvious discontent, Kol and Raknar seemed amiable enough, but watchful. There could be no doubt that they were sizing up Bjorn’s reaction to Samantha. Or total lack thereof.
Bjorn seemed more disgruntled than ever as he sat down beside Sam. As though he wanted to be anywhere but there. Even so, he introduced her to the others. First, Veronica, who seemed poised and unaffected by the seer’s words as she sat next to Raknar.
A tall, stunning blond stood behind Veronica and massaged her shoulders. She was Amber and Kol’s oldest child, Kadlin, and looked different than her darker siblings. If anything, she looked more like Raknar.
Then, of course, there was little Håkon whose eyes remained glued on Sam. He looked as though he wanted to go to her but wasn’t sure if he should. Always a fan of kids, especially her niece Emily, she gestured for him to join her.
“Good to see you again, Håkon,” she said when he squeezed in between her and Bjorn. It occurred to her that he had likely seen her tag Vigdis. Not good. “Sorry you had to see me hit that woman. I shouldn’t have done that.”
He looked at her with confusion. “Yes, you should have.” His eyes narrowed. “She was mean to everyone, and you defended them.” Admiration lit his gaze. “And you defended Uncle Bjorn because he is your friend, yes?”
She was sort of surprised by his take on the situation but then he was a Viking and not a product of the twenty-first century. “Yes, because he is my friend.”
Though she might not altogether mean it, she meant it a little bit more than she had before. Why, she wasn’t entirely sure. Something to do with her dreams. Something to do with his support in those dreams. When her eyes met Bjorn’s, he looked away, but not before she saw a flicker of pride as well as another emotion. It almost looked like tempered desire. As if he was fighting something he didn’t want to feel. Approval? Respect? But with him, it was impossible to know.
Håkon’s eyes went to Veronica. “Might I show Samantha around the caves, Grandmother?” When she started to shake her head, he said, “Please. We will not go far.” His eyes went to Bjorn. “And Uncle Bjorn will keep us safe, isn’t that right, Uncle?”
Bjorn frowned. “It is best to stay here for—”
“I think it sounds like a good idea,” Raknar said, his eyes turning to Veronica. “If your grandmother agrees.”
Mutual understanding passed between them before Veronica’s eyes flickered between Sam and Bjorn. “I do, Håkon. You may show Samantha around but do not wander far and never leave your uncle’s sight.”
“I won’t!” Håkon sprang up and held out his hand to Sam. “Might you walk with me?”
“I’d love to.” She smiled and waved goodbye to the others as Håkon led the way. Bjorn fell in behind them. Close but not too close. “Håkon, can we go back to my cave first so I can change my clothes?”
Sam eyed her extra-long shirt. One she suspected belonged to Bjorn though it didn’t smell like him. She wouldn’t be surprised if he used magic to ensure as much considering her strong reaction to his scent. More so, his aversion to her reaction.
“You mean you want to go back to Uncle Bjorn’s lair to change clothes?” Håkon said.
Not cave but lair. Bizarre how it gave her a little thrill. How it seemed so much more personal.
“Yup, I suppose that’s exactly what I mean,” she replied.
Less than five minutes later, she was dressed in Viking garb with sturdy boots as they made their way through the caves. Most were large and similar in design to Bjorn’s. Tucked back from the shore and dimly lit.
“This one is mine,” Håkon said, proud as he led her into a cave just as large as the rest. But then, he must be a dragon-shifter too which meant he was going to get a whole lot bigger.
“It’s amazing,” she said, sure to appear properly astounded.
“It was my parents,” Håkon replied. His little shoulders slumped, and sadness flashed in his eyes. “But father will not stay here without mother so he moved to another lair. Far from the others.” He struggled against a frown. “Far away from me.”
Sam glanced at Bjorn, but his troubled gaze remained on Håkon. Poor kid. Once she knew he was Matthew’s son, she realized this was the little boy whose mom died in a raid two years ago. Matthew still blamed his brother Heidrek because he had led the raid. Sure it must be hard for Matthew being in this cave, but still. How could he leave his son here alone? He was so young and clearly missed his parents.
“It is all right,” Håkon continued. He straightened and shook off a burden someone his age didn’t deserve. “Father is a great warrior and needs his own space. Besides,” his eyes went to Bjorn, “Uncle Bjorn keeps me company when he’s here.”
Did he then?
Bjorn offered no response, but she didn’t miss the softening of his eyes. Did the cranky Viking actually have a soft spot for Håkon? It was hard to imagine.
“Come, let me show you.” Håkon pulled her after him, grabbing Bjorn’s hand along the way.
It was obvious Bjorn wanted no part of this. And she soon learned why. Håkon was about to prove that Bjorn had an even softer spot than anticipated.
Close to the shore, Håkon led them into a dark tunnel.
“Uncle Bjorn made this tunnel,” Håkon said before he murmured something and several torches flared to life. As they walked, the little boy pointed out various carvings.
“He carved these for me so I would reme
mber mother.” Håkon’s eyes lit up as he pointed out a drawing of a woman holding a toddler’s hand as they waded into the ocean. It was remarkably well done. “This was the day I shifted for the first time. Mother was with me until I took flight. Then Father stayed with me in the air as I learned to fly.”
Sam blinked back tears and glanced at Bjorn again. How thoughtful. His eyes remained trained on the picture as if he were reflecting on that day as well.
They walked a bit further, passing more carvings and memories before Håkon pointed out another. It was the same woman, Håkon’s mother, with a boy on her lap. This time, he looked to be around three or four. She was pressing a dagger into his hand.
“That was the day I was first allowed to hold a weapon,” Håkon said with pride. “Mother said someday I would become a great warrior, perhaps even a great leader.”
Samantha smiled. “I can certainly see that happening, Håkon.”
The boy nodded his agreement as they continued walking, his eyes wide with renewed wonder as he pointed out more carvings. Each drawn in great detail. Who knew Bjorn was such an artist? The man was full of surprises.
Håkon’s voice grew soft as they came to the last one. His mother stood in front of him with her shoulders back and pride in her eyes as she looked down at him. It appeared to be some sort of initiation process because a crowd surrounded them.
“That was the day I was given my own dragon lair,” Håkon said, his little shoulders back as he mimicked his mother’s proud stance. “Though far smaller than this one, it was all mine.”
“That must have been a very proud day for you,” Samantha said with approval as she studied the picture, her eyes drawn to a familiar bearded Viking. Bjorn. Her gaze drifted to the woman beside him as she kept speaking. “And a proud day for your family.”
“Yes,” Håkon replied. “It was partly Uncle Bjorn’s idea. He saw how well I had embraced my dragon and how good I was with my blade. And his wife agreed.” He stood on his tip-toes and pointed at the same man and woman she was staring at. “See, there he is with Aunt Katla.”
Vengeance of a Viking (The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors' Kin Book 2) Page 9