Viking Heart (The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors Book 3)

by Sky Purington

  Too many times to count. Tongue in cheek, she shrugged a shoulder. “This is different.”

  Sean nodded. “Sure is Amber. This time you drew something that’s likely going to happen to you.” His voice lowered. “With him.”

  Her eyes fell to the picture and a tiny bit of air escaped her lungs. Setting aside the ominous wave, what he didn’t know, could never know, was that she was opposed to the idea. That though her hand might have sketched one thing, her mind wanted another. As to her heart? That wasn’t allowed anywhere near this.

  Their eyes locked and held. Amber knew in that heartbreaking moment that there was no hope for them. Not because of him but because of her. She was stunted. Ruined. While he had adored her for so long regardless, he deserved to break free, to find a woman who could not only appreciate him as thoroughly as she did, but give him the love he deserved.

  As if he followed her every thought, Sean leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “It’s late. Go to bed, Amber. I’m gonna sleep down here.”

  Amber stared at him for a long moment before she nodded and whispered, “Okay.”

  Not wanting to be part of the sketch, she crumpled it then threw it in the fire before she trudged upstairs. If she had half a heart, she would stay with Sean, tell him all his assumptions were wrong. Yet as always, it was easier to walk away than to face her feelings, especially those that grew too intense.

  Dazed, she sat on the edge of their bed, no his bed, and shut her eyes. Her throat felt swollen and her face was on fire as emotions blew through her. What was the matter with her? Sean was a great catch by any woman’s standards. Handsome, dependable, a great lover. She fingered the comforter. She didn’t deserve to lie in this bed. A woman who could love him the way he should be loved did.

  Frustrated with herself, Amber almost went to one of the guest rooms but just couldn’t. When she was here in Megan’s old house—Sean’s new house—this was where she had always been with him…where she belonged.

  It took a long time to fall asleep. Then it was just restless tossing and turning all night. Though she left early the next morning, he was already gone. While it stung, she supposed that was for the best. A clean, drama free break.

  Or so she thought.

  If the heartache she suffered losing her sisters wasn’t enough, the call she received a few days later just about did her in. It was Dayna. It seemed Sean’s fishing boat was caught in a storm.

  Sean and his crew hadn’t been seen or heard from since.

  Hampton Beach, New Hampshire

  Two Months Later

  Jacket wrapped tight against the chill, Amber sat on her deck and stared at the ships bobbing on the horizon. A deep orange sun had nearly sunk in the West and twilight descended over the choppy Atlantic. Dayna had just left after cooking a pot roast and worrying about her to the point of distraction.

  Amber was still amazed at how much her cousin had been there for her lately. Then again, Dayna had not only been tight with Megan at one point in time but had been close friends with Sean since childhood.

  Though rescue crews had yet to find any wreckage, it was officially determined that Sean and his crew had been lost at sea. Though months later, Amber couldn’t shake the deep depression that had overtaken her. It was impossible to imagine he was really gone.

  That they were all gone.

  At Amber’s insistence, Dayna had decided to move back into the house in Winter Harbor. It made sense since she’d sold the house to Megan to begin with before Sean bought it.

  Eyes to the ocean, Amber sketched. Every once in a while, she considered playing her violin or drums but just couldn’t seem to do it. Drawing was silent and kept her emotions at bay. Music made her feel too much.

  Yet she sketched the same thing over and over.

  Sean, the last time she’d seen him, looking at her drawing.

  When he was looking at another man embracing her.

  Broken over the fact that he was gone but even more so over how they had left things, she headed inside and tossed aside the notepad. Exhausted as always, she stripped down to her bra and panties then crawled into bed. As she did every night, she lay there and stared at the stone. The Valknut, Knot of the Slain, made her extremely uneasy but not the rune stave on the other side.

  The Web of Wyrd.

  Again and again, she was drawn to this stave likely because it appealed to the artist in her. Its mystery was intriguing. The actions of the past affect the present and that present actions affect the future; all timelines inextricably interconnected.

  That sounded deep and complicated.

  If she could put it to paper she’d start with a circle, interlocked with more circles. A beginning within an end and vice versa. Like a pinwheel but different. More spin-offs. Fluctuations. So many different outcomes yet only one stayed steady and true…her prayer for Sean’s safe return and that she would see her sisters again.

  The wind howled off the ocean as she clenched the stone and curled onto her side. Snuggling deeper under the blankets, she pretended that awful night between her and Sean hadn’t happened. Or more importantly, that the elements of her childhood hadn’t. All was well. She was normal and recognized love for what it was. Not stunted. So she followed the circle, or Web of Wyrd, in her mind, drowning in its soft, telling tale.

  One that ensured her happiness and that of her sisters.

  One that kept Sean safe and brought him everything he ever wanted.

  Round and round she followed the pinwheel’s circles painted within her mind as they took her deeper and deeper, further and further.

  Away from the pain of losing her sisters.

  Away from the pain of losing Sean.

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  Her eyes snapped open. She must have drifted off because the clock now read 3:09 AM.

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  Totally out of it, she stumbled from the bed and padded out to the living room. The moon was full and shining through the windows. The French doors leading out onto the deck were open and slamming against the wall in the wind. It was so unnaturally cold her breath met the air in foggy puffs. Yet she couldn’t move to go get her clothes.

  She couldn't move period.

  Wearing nothing but jeans, Sean stood in front of the open doors, legs braced and arms crossed over his chest as he stared out over the ocean.

  Stunned, she realized he was dripping wet and standing in a small puddle. Despite all the oddities, her eyes narrowed on the back of his left shoulder. What was that? She blinked a few times. It was a tattoo. One he definitely didn’t have before. Two interlocked rune staves.

  The Web of Wyrd and a Valknut.

  Amber gripped the back of the couch, confused, frightened, and though she tried to speak louder her word was a mere whisper. “Sean?”

  Despite the howling wind, he slowly turned. A scream caught in her throat. Though it had clearly looked like Sean from behind, another man now met her eyes.

  Amber stumbled back.

  Only to jolt awake.

  She had been dreaming. Better yet, having a nightmare.

  Trembling, her eyes locked on the clock. That was strange.

  It read 3:09 AM.

  Sleepy, out of it, her eyes drifted shut. Again the Web of Wyrd twirled within her mind, taking her deeper and deeper into its complexity.

  Though part of her knew it was impossible, that she had to be dreaming again, she smiled when Sean’s warm arm wrapped around her. Thank God. He was alive. Somehow. And here. Tired of the heartache, more than willing to embrace whatever this was, she tucked her butt against his front, cozying into their favorite position. When his hand snaked up her thigh then slowly found its way between her legs, she groaned in pleasure.

  He was back.

  Eyes closed, groggy but willing, she rolled her hips as she always did, a pattern meant to mimic the motion of his hand. He worked her flesh through her panties, adept as always. Except this time it was a bit different. More aggressive, surer if t
hat was possible. While he hit all the familiar spots, he ventured to new ones and she arched, jolting at the foreign sensations.

  Sharp pleasure roared up so quickly that she shied away and rolled onto her back.

  But he followed.

  When he pursued and came over her fast, she put a hand to his chest. He put his hand over hers and repositioned it until she felt the heavy, sped up thud of his heart. Caught in the feeling of his excitement, she was liquid in his arms when he pressed her thighs apart and settled between them.

  Her lips fell open and she gasped for air when he rubbed his arousal against her. She jerked against him, but he pinned her down as he rolled his hips.

  “This isn’t fair,” came a female purr. “I thought it was just me this eve.”

  Amber’s eyes shot open.

  Not to Sean and a dark room but someone else altogether. The man she had just seen in a dream standing in her living room.

  His eyes widened, obviously just as confused.

  Forget fumbling for her cell phone, forget trying to get away, she went with her instincts…

  She screamed at the top of her lungs.

  Chapter Two

  Scandinavia

  878 A.D.

  Amber stilled when a cold dagger came against her throat and the stranger pressed his lower half tighter against her. Pinned, unable to move, she blinked several times. It took a moment to realize torches flickered and the man’s eyes were inches from hers.

  A scant few seconds later, vague recognition seemed to flicker in their dark depths and he pulled away. Even so, she could barely process what was happening as several people rushed into the room.

  And it most certainly was not her room.

  Gasping, confused, well beyond terrified, she grabbed the nearest blanket…or fur, and pulled it over her. “What’s going on…” she started then choked back another scream as foreign men swarmed around her. Bearded, rugged, they held swords and daggers.

  “Enough,” the man by her side roared. “Stand down. She’s with me.”

  “I thought I got to be with you until the next turn of the moon, Kol,” the female in bed beside him murmured.

  Kol?

  Oh no. She had to be dreaming. Please let her be dreaming. Yet when she blinked again, Amber knew she wasn’t. The bed and room were huge, and completely foreign. Wooden, with a tall vaulted ceiling and thatched roof, she didn’t know what to compare it to. Then her eyes landed on the wide array of weapons attached to the walls. Dear God. So scared she couldn’t see straight, she made to leave the bed but Kol’s strong hand closed around her wrist.

  “No, Amber. Stay,” his deep voice rumbled. “Your sisters will be here soon.”

  Her sisters? Okay, maybe this was a dream.

  “Leave me, woman,” he muttered. Amber tried to do just that, but he held her tight. “Not you.”

  As though he meant to soothe, his thumb brushed lightly over the area where his blade had been. Though scared half to death, she locked eyes with him.

  And almost wished she hadn’t.

  Because she expected a monster.

  The man who held her wrist was anything but. She finally really looked at the visage that had so briefly haunted the darkened room in her dream.

  She had never seen such a handsome face. Framed by thick black lashes, his eyes were a rich, dark chocolate brown. Everything about him was striking and intense from his slashed brows to the warm, sun-kissed tone of his skin. Her eyes traveled over his high cheekbones and the five o’clock shadow on his strong jaw before they fell to his perfectly formed lips.

  Then her eyes tripped down lower, suddenly aware of his nudity. Chiseled. Long. Too many muscles. Her eyes honed in on his obvious erection. Oh, Christ. She barely had a second to take him in before she heard a voice she never thought she would hear again.

  “Amber?”

  Please don’t let this be a dream. When her eyes found her oldest sister, she didn’t have time to say a thing before Megan’s arms were around her. “Oh, thank God you’re here!”

  Still terrified but happy at the same time, she wrapped her arms around Megan.

  “Get everyone out of here now,” Megan shot over her shoulder.

  “It really is you,” Amber whispered, worried that if she let go, Megan might vanish.

  “What’s going on?” came another female voice. Veronica? But of course. Megan held her so tightly, she couldn’t look.

  “Amber!” Veronica cried.

  Before she had a chance to take it all in, Amber was sandwiched between her sisters in a fierce hug. Holding on tight, she thanked God and continued to pray that it was real, and not just another vivid dream.

  “Kol, leave,” Megan said. “Please tell my husband and Raknar that Amber has arrived and that she’s all right. Have Naðr send over one of my dresses.”

  Still out of it, Amber mumbled, “Your husband?”

  Megan finally pulled back and cupped her cheeks, eyes concerned. “I’ll fill you in later. How are you? Are you okay?”

  “I don’t know,” she whispered and swallowed. “Am I dreaming?”

  “No, you’re not dreaming,” Veronica assured as she stroked Amber’s hair. “Not at all.”

  Megan wrapped a fur blanket more securely around Amber as a woman with several interwoven braids handed her a mug then set down a tray with a pitcher before she left.

  “Drink,” her sister urged when she hesitated. “It’ll calm you down.”

  Totally on board with anything calming, Amber drank. It was strong, but she downed half the mug.

  “Wow, you managed the taste of mead a lot better than I did the first time,” Veronica commented softly.

  “Mead?” She clenched her teeth and looked around, truly taking in her surroundings. “Because I’m now…where exactly?”

  “I think you know,” Megan murmured.

  Amber nodded. Of course, she did. Because it was all true. Everything Megan had said the last time she saw her. “Ninth century Scandinavia.”

  “Yes.” Veronica eyed her with concern. “That’s exactly where you are.”

  Her pained eyes met Veronica's. “You vanished the day you went to Raven’s Nest but you never came back, you never said goodbye. How could you do that?”

  Tears glistened in her sister’s eyes. “Actually I did. We both did. You just don’t remember, sweetie.” She swallowed. “I’ll fill you in on the details later, all right?”

  "Okay," Amber murmured. “So I traveled back in time. We all have," she whispered, grateful for the calming effects of the mead. Her eyes narrowed on Megan. “You came back to your Viking king and married him?”

  Megan nodded. “I did.”

  Her eyes shot to Veronica. “And I’m guessing you found someone here too and unless you’re good with him sleeping with other women, you didn’t end up with Kol.”

  “No.” Veronica’s eyes met Megan’s before they returned to Amber. “I’m with Raknar.”

  Amber nodded then took several long gulps of mead. Hell, she might as well just polish it off. So she did. Staring straight ahead, she tried to process exactly what Veronica’s words meant. A strange little tingle raced through her and all she could manage was, “Well, that just leaves Kol then, eh?”

  Neither sister responded right away but continued to eye her with concern. Finally, Megan said, “Let’s just take things one step at the time. What you need to remember is that you have a choice in all this. Nothing is cut in stone.”

  “Mm hmm. Sure Sis,” Amber murmured. She wasn’t born yesterday. If both Megan and Veronica had decided to stay here and chose to live over a thousand years in their past, then they must’ve fallen pretty deep in love. As of right now, trying to imagine being meant for the man she’d just met, Kol, was almost impossible to wrap her mind around.

  “And you don’t have to worry about being claimed by Kol like I was by Raknar,” Veronica said. “I’ve been working on that with these Viking men. The whole man owning a woman thing that is
.”

  Okay. She would leave that one alone.

  “Kol had a damn woman in his bed,” Amber muttered. The mead was definitely going to her head but still she rattled on as she went to warm herself in front of the fire. “Besides, Sean hasn’t been gone that long.”

  She froze the minute she said it. Oh no.

  Megan came alongside, her expression cautious. “What do you mean?”

  Be brave. Don’t run. Face this. He was Megan’s best friend. So she met her sister’s eyes and tried to keep her voice steady and strong. “They haven’t found his boat.” Not a good way to lead out so she rambled on. “Months ago. Lost. But it’s okay because they’ll find him.” She shook her head and ground her jaw. “Because he’s not gone.”

  Megan braced her hand against the wall and hung her head. A pained whisper slipped from her lips. “Jesus, no.” Eyes closed, she said, “What month did you lose him?”

  When Amber didn’t reply right away, Megan snapped, “What month?”

  Veronica squeezed Amber’s hand in support. Her strength gave her courage to speak. “Mid-February. Valentine’s Day. Storm Neptune. The blizzards this year, I mean in 2015, have been non-stop.”

  Hand to her forehead, Megan whispered, “He knows better than to be out on waters like that.”

  Yes, he did.

  Again and again, Amber had wondered if he made a poor decision based on what happened between them but even she knew Sean was too smart for that. He knew the coast of Maine better than most and that being out in weather like that would be suicide. Yet he wasn’t the sort to take his own life. And he would never put his crew at risk.

  Still, his boat was gone.

  Amber took Megan’s hand and said what Dayna had been saying all along because she didn’t know what else to say, what else to feel. “I’m so sorry.”

  Silence fell as Megan dealt with the news. As she had always been, her older sister was quiet with her grief. She would set it aside until she was alone.

  A woman came in and handed several dresses to Veronica. Clearly set on making sure Amber was well, Megan gently pulled away the blanket and Veronica helped her into a dress.