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

by Sky Purington

  Stunned, Amber slowly wrapped her arms around Veronica’s shoulders. It seemed her sister was going back to her roots and embracing something she forgot she was. Not an uptight, overachieving city girl, but a fisherman’s daughter. A girl who suffered. A woman who had lost a son. She was free from grief now and embracing a new life, a new her.

  And she was one of two little girls who had helped Amber through the pain of their parent’s separation long ago. So she held her sister tighter. But even as she murmured, “And you couldn’t begin to know how proud I am of you,” to Veronica, there were still no tears.

  From her sister, yes.

  From Amber, no.

  Never tears.

  Tears meant finality. Tears meant the end.

  Tears meant it was over.

  Veronica’s eyes met hers and if she wasn’t mistaken there was a flicker of sympathy in them before she pulled Amber after her. “Let’s go. The ship leaves soon.”

  She nodded and followed. Kol helped her down—his hands lingering on her waist just long enough to fuel fire beneath her skin—before he helped Veronica onto the ship. Then he swung fur cloaks over their shoulders, eyes unreadable as he made sure Amber's was secure.

  “The King wishes Kjar to hold Matthew until we reach the fortress,” Raknar said softly to Veronica. “He is safest in the demi-god’s arms.”

  Veronica nodded. “Of course.”

  The small ship disembarked. Once they had navigated past the rocks, they sailed along the coast, never straying far from land. Veronica and Amber stayed close to Kjar as Raknar and Kol helped man the ship. Little was said and faces were somber when the fortress loomed in the distance and their sail was lowered. At first all she could see were the last golden rays of a setting sun glittering over a deep blue sea. Then slowly but surely she saw something else.

  Small boats floating away from the shore. No, canoes really. Several of them. Too many.

  Thirty at least.

  “God, no, not that many dead,” she whispered and fingered the satchel at her neck. “All because of this.”

  Knees week, she was grateful when Kol came behind her. He wrapped a supportive arm around her waist and pulled her back against him. His words were mournful but strong. “The dead are being sent to Odin where they might be welcomed for a battle well fought.” She heard the catch in his voice. “It is time to say goodbye to my brothers and sisters.”

  Amber’s throat closed as dozens upon dozens of fiery arrows whizzed through the air, thumping into the drifting boats. Likely Kol’s friends, fellow warriors, maybe even lovers. Her chest clenched so tightly she could barely breathe let alone move. They were people he’d been raised with. They were family. Prayers were murmured softly along the ship as fires caught on the small boats and crackled against the dying sunset.

  She said nothing for a long time but mourned alongside the others.

  Only when the fires were lazy entrails of smoke on the horizon and deep twilight descended did Kol pull away. Strong jaw clenched, she could see the sadness and anger he worked through. The rest of the men wore similar expressions as they took up oar and brought the ship into port.

  Megan and Naðr waited on the dock. Amber was surprised when she saw two tall, kilted men standing by their side. At first she couldn’t make out their features but as they drew closer her eyes widened. While she didn’t recognize the first, she definitely did the second. Though he looked remarkably different, she was certain he had been Sean’s lawyer during the sale of Megan’s house.

  Amber waited for Kjar, the baby and Veronica to disembark before she followed. The minute she set foot on the dock, Megan wrapped her arms around her and murmured, “Thank God you’re all right.” She held her a long moment then pulled back. Eyes wet, her older sister kept her at arm’s length and looked her up and down. “You are okay, right? They didn’t hurt you?”

  “I’m fine, really,” she assured. “Kol and Kjar saved me.”

  Megan frowned, eyes searching. “Nothing happened before that?”

  Before her sister kept on, Amber shook her head. “No, I wasn’t hurt. Just a little scared.”

  “I can imagine,” Megan said through clenched teeth.

  The next thing she knew, she was pulled into the king’s arms. Sort of stunned, she stilled. Naðr gave her a brief hug then pulled back, a harsh frown on his face and dark words on his tongue as he met her eyes. “I vow that I will see Alrek drawn and quartered for what he did to you.”

  Lord, he and Megan were cut from the same cloth with their fierce expressions.

  Amber could only manage a nod before her eyes drifted to the Scotsmen. Wow, were they something with their plaids, boots and furs wrapped over their broad shoulders. Extremely handsome. But not quite as hot as Kol. He had a little something extra that other men seemed to lack. Pure sexiness.

  Her eyes narrowed on the Scotsman with pale grayish blue eyes and her shoulders tensed. Mainly because he brought Sean roaring to the forefront of her mind.

  Megan made introductions. She gestured at the man with jet black hair and pale blue eyes first. “Amber, meet Adlin MacLomain.”

  The Adlin MacLomain? The clan’s infamous patriarch and immortal wizard? Amber’s mouth fell open as he kissed the back of her hand.

  “Nice to meet ye, lass.”

  “You too, Adlin.” She offered a small smile, still overly aware that this was a somber occasion.

  Megan gestured to the other man. “And I believe you sort of already know Grant MacLomain.”

  “Good to see you again, lass,” he murmured and also kissed the back of her hand.

  “A.K.A., Grant Seavey…Sean’s lawyer,” she managed, eyes again flickering over his attire. “The last time I saw you, you were wearing a business suit and holding a briefcase. Oh, and lying to me, my sister and Sean.”

  If she wasn’t mistaken, compassion flickered in his eyes as he offered his elbow to her. “Walk with me?”

  She hesitated a second before she wrapped her arm with his and they headed down the dock.

  “I owe you an apology, lass,” he said. “It was never my intention to deceive you, Veronica or Sean.”

  “Why did you then?”

  Save her sisters, Kjar, Adlin and the Sigdir brothers, the majority of villagers were already far ahead and filtering into the fortress.

  Grant’s response was soft when it came. “I couldnae tell ye who I was without risking the connection you were meant to have with the king and his brothers. Like Adlin, I am only here to help.”

  “Uh huh.” Evasive. But what did she expect?

  She knew exactly who Grant MacLomain really was. After all, she’d read about him in the MacLomain Next Generation manuscript. Which was a pretty astounding concept. And though she might be aggravated with him, she felt sympathetic too. The guy hadn’t had it easy being imprisoned by the enemy for fourteen years. Still, several strong emotions were washing over her. “You’re supposedly a wizard too. A powerful one at that.” Her eyes pleaded with his and she braced herself for an unfavorable answer when she asked, “What happened to Sean?”

  Something indiscernible flickered in his eyes. Whatever it was vanished fast. “I dinnae know lass. The last I saw of the twenty-first century was when I made sure your stone was returned to you.”

  She swallowed hard, eyes round. “You came back to Sean’s house after Veronica and Megan left? When? He didn’t mention it.”

  “That is because he didnae know I was there,” Grant said. “The stone was returned to its box then I left.”

  Amber frowned heavily. “Why do I get the feeling you’re hiding something.”

  “That tends to be a common reaction with most people I meet.” But his eyes were warm as they met hers. “The plight of being a wizard I’m afraid.”

  “I need answers,” she murmured. “You must understand that.”

  “Aye, lass.” His eyes held hers. “Know this. Though I cannae be the one to give them to ye, all shall be revealed soon enough. Ye w
ill have your answers.”

  Amber sighed. “A lot of good that does me now.”

  They were nearing the end of the dock when Grant tilted his head slightly. “Your lad grows jealous.”

  “My lad?”

  Grant arched a brow. “Your dragon?”

  “My dragon?”

  The corner of his lip curled up a fraction. “The king’s youngest brother.”

  “Kol?” She shook her head. “No. Kol doesn’t get jealous. We have an understanding.”

  Amused, he said nothing more as the subject of their conversation came alongside her. Grant stopped and held out his hand to Kol. “I am Grant MacLomain. Good to meet ye, lad.”

  Kol’s gaze narrowed, assessing the Scotsman with a dark sweep of his eyes. Amber was surprised by the possessive hand he put against her lower back.

  Grant kept a hand extended though Kol didn’t grip it. The Scotsman’s gaze flickered appreciatively over their surroundings before they met the Viking's eyes. “Once the pact is fulfilled, I will have to bring my wife, my wee bonnie lass, Sheila, here to visit. As you might imagine, ‘tis hard to be away from your true love for even a moment, aye?”

  Amber lowered her brows at Kol. “Aren’t you going to shake his hand?”

  “That depends.” His eyes were shadowed when they met hers. It didn’t seem as though he saw anything wrong with saying, “Do you desire him?”

  “Are you serious?” Keep in mind he’s mourning and off his game, she said to herself.

  “Och, he’s verra serious. ‘Tis the way of the dragon when he’s claimed his mate,” Grant enlightened. He didn’t seem offended in the least. His hand was still extended, but his eyes were on her. “Ye best tell him ye dinnae desire me, lass.”

  Her eyes popped. “Claimed me as his mate?”

  Adlin nudged Grant in passing, a little twinkle in his eyes. “‘Tis good ye’ve the muscles to keep that arm extended for a while, laddie.”

  “Listen, I’m nobody’s mate,” she grumbled to Grant. “And I’m so okay with you not shaking this brute’s hand.”

  Amber started walking but stopped when she realized the men weren’t moving.

  Kol had his arms crossed over his chest, eyes on her.

  Grant didn’t move his arm in the least, eyes on her as well. “Do ye desire me, lass? ‘Tis a simple question.”

  Megan and Veronica walked by and damn if she didn’t see repressed amusement in their eyes. Naðr only offered a shrug as he passed. It was Raknar of all people that leaned close and murmured in her ear. “They’ll both stand there the whole night. My brother won’t be satisfied until you answer his question and the Scotsman will stand by his honor.”

  Before she could respond, or maybe keep him around to help argue on her behalf, Raknar was off. All she could envision was the little golden dragon swooping down to save his brother. Blood stuck by blood which she understood because she had such great sisters. Yet they had seemed just fine strolling on by.

  Like Kol, she crossed her arms over her chest. “This is absurd. Come on! Since when do you care if I desire another man? I thought we were fine with that sort of thing?”

  Kol shrugged a shoulder. “I’m not asking for your devotion, Amber. But I won’t clasp another man’s hand in greeting if you desire him.”

  Grant arched a brow at Kol. “No devotion then? Are you sure? I dinnae get the sense ye want to share your mate with another.”

  They both frowned at the Scotsman.

  “I’m not Kol’s mate,” she repeated.

  But damn if she didn’t feel pressure between her thighs when she said it. For that matter, when she first heard him say it.

  “I will share her if she desires it.” Kol’s brows lowered sharply. “But not with you, wizard.”

  Grant continued to look mildly bemused. “‘Tis good then because I intend to remain faithful to my Sheila through this life into the next and all that follow.” Then he looked at Amber and shook his head, disappointment in his eyes. “I am sorry lass, but I dinnae desire ye so if ye were hoping—”

  “Well of course I don’t desire you either,” she started then snapped her mouth shut. The Scotsman had smoothly tricked her into giving Kol what he wanted.

  Kol shot her a triumphant look and grasped Grant’s arm, hand to elbow. “Welcome. It’s nice to meet you, Grant.”

  Amber scowled and was about to tell Kol exactly what she thought of his little charade when her attention was caught by Kjar walking down the dock. Better yet who he walked with, her elbow locked with his.

  The Unnamed One.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It took about everything Kol had not to throw Amber over his shoulder, slap her sweet little ass and show her just how claimed she really was. But he was still too caught up in Grant’s observation.

  Kol making Amber his mate.

  He wasn’t sure precisely when it had happened, but the wizard was right, the dragon had declared as much. But had he himself?

  One thing remained certain; dragon fury had turned his vision deep red as he watched Amber and Grant walk a little too closely together. It was a rare day that he met a man nearly as tall and strong as him. While the Viking was just fine with it and always appreciated a fellow warrior, the dragon was in complete disagreement. If it weren’t for the fact that it was a day of mourning and he knew the Scotsman was here to help, his blade would have been drawn.

  It didn’t matter in the least if the wizard could wipe him out with a flick of his magical wrist, Kol would go down fighting. Now if he could embrace his dragon, everything would go a whole lot differently. But even then, he sensed Grant was nearly as powerful as Adlin so it would be a brutal and gory battle to say the least.

  Thankfully his woman finally said what he needed to hear. What he knew anyways because he could smell her desire. And it wasn’t for Grant in the least. No, moments after she heard Kol had claimed her as his mate, he caught her scent.

  She liked it.

  But he still fully intended to remind her how much as soon as they were alone. Right now, however, they had far bigger problems to deal with. And so much vengeance to embrace. He was eager for the blood of his enemies. Hopefully, the Unnamed One could help him and his brothers achieve such an end.

  Still, it was unsettling to see her without Helga.

  Kjar stopped in front of him and Grant. The seer kept her head down, but Kol didn’t miss how close she stayed to the shipwright.

  “Our people will be celebrating the journey of our loved ones to Valhalla in the great hall. But, first, the king wants us in his holding to talk of our next move.”

  Kol nodded. “Where is Helga? How will the Unnamed One speak without her?”

  “‘Tis why I am here,” Grant said. “I’ve the magic to keep enemies at bay through the MacLomain’s great hall tapestry, and the ability to hear the seer’s words.”

  The tapestry Grant spoke of was the same one that depicted his oldest brother, the Viking King. An extremely powerful gateway of sorts between medieval Scotland and Scandinavia, it also served as a cage where they currently had an evil enemy trapped between life and death. But that was another story and the reason Naðr’s son by marriage, Valan, came here to begin with.

  The five of them made their way into the fortress, for the most part silent. Kol noticed that Amber chose to walk on the Unnamed One’s other side. He was surprised to realize she was offering the seer support.

  Celebrations were in full swing within the great hall. His kinsmen were eager to make sure Odin heard their cries of favor, the endless songs about all the good deeds the fallen had accomplished in their lives. It was important that their people drank much, ate aplenty, and celebrated a life well lived with their AllFather.

  A table of food and drinks was laid out in the room adjoining the king’s sleeping area. Yet his brother had been strategic and set it off to the side with chairs placed around the fire. While the food was available for hospitality reasons, he wanted the focus more on conversation
.

  Naðr and Adlin sat next to one another, deep in conversation. The babe had been put to bed and Raknar, Veronica, and Megan were chatting amongst themselves. When they entered, all fell silent. His brothers and Adlin stood as Kjar led the Unnamed One forward.

  All lowered their heads briefly as the king spoke.

  “Welcome. I can only assume since you’re here without your sister that you are our ally and Helga is no longer.”

  “Or mayhap,” Adlin said, eyes trained on her. “Helga has been captured and my King unknowingly welcomes the enemy.”

  The Unnamed One sunk to her knees and started making slashes on the floor. Grant came alongside; his eyes narrowed as he didn’t watch her fingers but seemed to be listening to something. “I am not your enemy.” She wrapped a shaky hand into Kjar’s when he sunk into a chair beside her. “Ask the demi-god. He might not be able to hear me, but he knows.”

  Kol grabbed a couple of skins and kept Amber by his side.

  Naðr’s eyes went to Kjar. “So now we have arrived at the point where you can share your secrets, shipwright. But I wonder…how am I to trust anything you say to me?”

  Kjar cocked his head. “I guess you’ll just have to use your good judgment, my King.”

  Raknar and Kol narrowed their eyes on Kjar.

  But not Naðr. Instead, his brother’s brows perked slightly and he sat. Legs spread, skin dangling loosely, he wasn’t about to let the demi-god get him riled. Though his steady gaze never left Kjar’s, he spoke to the arch-wizard. “Your thoughts, Adlin?”

  Adlin kept studying the seer, eyes never once going to Kjar, before he sat as well. “Your man’s been deceiving you. He’s part of this pact.” The Scotsman shrugged, his posture at ease. “But he has not deceived you beyond that nor would he ever.”

  Naðr tilted back his head, eyes still narrowed on Kjar as he contemplated him for several long moments. Then he spread his hands, voice crass. “Then by all means share, cousin. Prove to me that I can trust you.”

  Kjar’s eyes narrowed. “That I am here is proof enough.”

  Grant sighed and sat. “‘Tis time to set aside strife. The seer can give you answers.”