by Berg, Saga
Daughters (Nordic Fairies, #4)
Title Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Nordic Fairies
Daughters
By Saga Berg
This is the third part in the novella series Nordic Fairies. Previously published in the same series:
Nordic Fairies (# 1)
Freja (Nordic Fairies, #2 )
Döckálfar (Nordic Fairies, #3)
Missing (Nordic Fairies, #5)
If you’re interested in reading any of these parts, click this link.
Disclaimers and Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places or incidents are product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons is entirely coincidental.
2nd Edition
Copyright 2012 by Saga Berg
All rights reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing by the author Saga Berg, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
www.sagaberg.com
Front image by Subbotina Anna
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Chapter 1
1980
New York
“Psst.”
Svala’s shoes squeaked against the grey vinyl floor when she stopped in the empty high school hallway. Viggo peered out from the janitor’s supply room, nodding for her to come inside. Her pulse raced as she gazed down both lengths of the corridor, and approached him.
The door clicked in place behind her. When Viggo grabbed her waist and pulled her close, her adrenaline rushed. His lips met hers, desperate and eager. She moaned and clung to him, surprised by her lack of self-control.
“I’m late for class,” she whispered, but accepted his next kiss.
Viggo pushed her against the left wall and slid one hand under her blouse, cupping her b-cup outside the pink cotton bra. With a gentle squeeze, he chuckled into the kiss. She pulled away and raised a brow. “I’m only fourteen.”
Viggo grinned and kissed her again. “You’re perfect,” he whispered against her lips, his other hand running up her neck until it intertwined into her long blonde hair. “You’re always perfect.”
When their lips met again, she remembered where they’d left off in their previous life, on the kitchen counter in Miami. Her nerve endings stirred and she heard herself groan as he deepened the kiss. He grabbed her waist, about to lift her up against the wall when he knocked over a tin bucket on the shelf. They both paused, mid kiss, keeping their lips locked as the bucket clunked onto the floor. A bottle of chlorine followed with a few bouncing thuds. He winced and stopped it with his foot before it slammed into the door. They stayed still and listened for a few seconds, but resumed kissing when the corridor outside stayed silent.
“We’re not supposed to do this,” she whispered.
He pulled her closer. “I know. So tell me to stop.”
She chuckled and he abandoned her lips to trail a row of kisses down her neck. Svala tilted her head back against the wall, her fingers buried in the soft mass of his thick brown hair. He pushed the sweater down over her shoulder and his slow, affectionate kisses against her skin sent shivers through her body.
Then he paused and peered up, his lips still pressed against her shoulder. “How bad would it be if I made love to you right now?”
She reached out to caress his cheek and discerned his clear blue eyes in the darkness. “Pretty bad.”
His lips lingered on her shoulder before he pulled away with a deep, collecting breath. With his hands clutching her waist, he leaned his forehead against her shoulder, and inhaled swiftly. “What did Trym say?”
Svala placed a hand on his chest, adding gentle pressure. “That I should stay away from you.”
He glanced down at her half-hearted attempt to keep him at a distance and offered a lopsided smile. “Well, you’re doing a great job, honey.”
She chuckled and met his gaze. “What did Alva say?”
He snickered. “Oh, she said go for it.”
She slapped his chest and frowned. “You’re funny.”
“And you’re adorable at fourteen. I’d almost forgotten.”
Svala wrinkled her nose but accepted his next kiss without complaint. She could stand in there all day, kissing him, but it posed too big of a risk and she already wanted more. She pulled away. “What did she say about Freja?”
Viggo’s eyes shifted and his grip on her waist loosened. “She didn’t know. She asked The High Council, but they didn’t tell her much.” He looked up and pushed a strand of hair from her face. “What did Trym say?”
She shook her head. “Same thing. He told me to be careful, but that they didn’t give any restrictions on how to communicate with her.”
Footsteps clomped the hallway outside, like someone running late to class. They paused and listened as the steps faded down towards the science lab.
“Does she recognize you?” Viggo asked.
Svala ran a finger over the neon colored print on his T-shirt. “I don’t know. She looks at me like she’s not quite sure. I can tell she wants to ask.”
“Yeah, she’s been looking at me too.” He nodded.
She fought the urge to smile.
He frowned. “What?”
“Nothing.”
He stared at her, urging her to explain.
“You should probably be careful with that,” she said.
His frown deepened, and Svala arched her brows until his frown morphed into a grimace. “Oh, come on! She recognizes me. Seriously, don’t even go there.” He shuddered.
“I’m just saying. Be careful.” She ran her index finger around the edges of his T-shirt print, avoiding his gaze. “Some of the girls talked about you this morning. They think you’re gorgeous.” She rolled her eyes.
Viggo’s chest moved with a soft chuckle. Svala stopped trailing her fingers over the print and lowered her hand.
“Hey.” He placed two fingers under her chin and forced her to look up. The humor in his voice annoyed her. “Do I detect jealousy?”
“No.” She evaded his gaze. “I just didn’t like it, that’s all.” Her gaze shifted back to him, her insecurity surprising her. “Is it always like that for you?”
He said nothing. Instead, he held her gaze until she no longer wavered, and then he kissed her. She blushed and answered with more hesitation than before. Her jealousy was childish, but those girls had ogled him like they wanted to tear his clothes off right there in the hallway. Normally, if anyone paid him too much attention, she’d discretely flash her wedding ring, and most women backed away. Most women. This situation rendered her powerless.
Viggo clutched her face in both hands and smoothed her cheekbones with his thumbs. “Don’t worry, honey. I always save myself for you.”
***<
br />
Present time
Washington
Svala thought of those words when she studied Viggo across the hallway in her current high school. He caught her staring over the herd of girls surrounding him and Emma. The moment their eyes met, Svala turned. She had to get away from him or she might act on the temptation to walk over and claim him, mark him as hers. The urge to do just that clouded her judgment.
She hurried to class where their teacher, Mr. Weston, pushed the black-framed glasses up the bridge of his nose and scanned the half-empty classroom through a frown. “Is there a flu going around?” he asked.
“No,” Jayden smirked. “Only a storm rising.”
A chuckle spread through the room, and Jen turned to offer Jayden an approving grin. Svala smiled to herself. For years, Alrik and Trym made that pun every time she and Viggo reunited, though with a different subtext. Viggo always hated it.
Mr. Weston gazed out the window and squinted at the sun, raising his eyebrow at the sight of the clear blue sky. He shook his head in confusion, and then returned to his students. “Very well. Let’s get started.”
After class, Svala found Freja waiting outside the principal’s office, alone. The hallway was nearly empty, and Svala’s repeated glances made Freja look up. Her eyes narrowed at first, then she seemed to recognize Svala, and smiled.
Jen and Noah stood by the lockers, arguing over the coming weekend’s activities while waiting for Jayden to return from the restroom. Svala seized the moment, abandoned her friends, and approach her daughter.
Freja eyed her, like she couldn’t quite place her, then lifted a finger when Svala closed in. “You were in my gem store in New York, right?”
“Yeah.” Svala nodded with a smile of relief.
Freja offered another warm smile. “I thought I recognized you. What a wonderful coincidence. Do you go to school here?”
Svala nodded again, unsure of what else to say. She hadn’t thought this through. Freja studied her through a moment of awkward silence. “I see that you’re wearing the necklace you bought. It suits you.” She looked at the amber jewelry resting against Svala’s red shirt.
“Thanks.” Svala fingered the gemstone in a nervous gesture, her hands sweating. “I didn’t mean to disturb, I recognized you, so I only wanted to come over and say hi...”
“Oh, don’t be silly. You’re not disturbing me.” Freja adjusted the strap from her purse further up on her shoulder. “I’m waiting for my daughter and Viggo. Emma, my daughter, is getting the grand tour around the school, and I offered to wait here. Didn’t want to slow them down.” She pointed to her leg. “Old injury that’s acting up again.”
Svala’s heart sank, and her voice pitched. “What injury?”
Freja flinched back slightly and Svala cleared her throat, and hurried to smooth over her reaction. “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.”
The frown on Freja’s face dissolved, and instead, a slow smile built on her face. She reminded Svala of herself, on those few occasions she’d lived a life over the age of forty.
Freja studied Svala, head tilted to the side, as if the recognition was mutual. “It’s okay; I fell down some stairs once.” A quick, almost undetectable waver of insecurity passed over Freja’s blue eyes. “A long time ago.”
Svala nodded, and tried to appear unaffected while the questions rang in her head. Why did she lie? What happened to her?
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She shifted her eyes to Freja’s leg, and her stomach tightened.
Freja shrugged and pressed her lips together. She glanced down the hallway, before returning to Svala. “Is this a good school?”
“Yeah, I think so.” Svala tried not to stare at her daughter’s leg again. “We have some really good teachers, I think your daughter will like it here.”
Freja’s brows shot up, as if she doubted Svala’s assumption. Svala masked her puzzled reaction with another smile, but had no time to consider Freja’s reaction as Viggo rounded the corner up ahead. Two security guards and a small group of girls followed in his wake. When he caught sight of Svala, he quickened his steps, and his eyes sparkled with excitement. The closer he got, the harder Svala’s heart pounded.
When he reached them, he turned to Freja, but glanced at Svala with obvious anticipation. “They’re showing Emma the gymnasium and are heading into the locker rooms. I thought I’d come back and check up on you.”
Freja nodded. Viggo’s gaze shifted to Svala again and their eyes locked, neither one of them able to break the eye contact. Freja glanced from Viggo to Svala and a shy smile lingered at the corner of her lips. “I’m sorry, this is...” She trailed off and turned to Svala. “I’m afraid I don’t know your name, dear.”
Svala tore her gaze from Viggo and looked at their daughter. “Svala,” she said. “My name is Svala.”
Freja gestured a hand toward her, looking at Viggo, but quickly lowered it and turned her attention back to Svala, eyes narrowed. “That’s funny. Why do I recognize that name? It’s very unusual.”
Svala shrugged and shook her head. Viggo studied her with a crooked smile. She met his gaze again and couldn’t stop a smile from surfacing too. Freja picked up on their silent communication and bit her lower lip.
“So, Viggo, this is Svala,” she said. “She came into my store a while back. I believe it was the same day you came by, before we knew who you were.”
Viggo extended his hand to Svala, their eyes still locked. She accepted his strong hand shake and his energy surged through her, filling her with an immediate need to be with him. Judging from the longing in his eyes, he shared the emotion.
“Nice to meet you, Svala.” He held on to her hand, his eyes never leaving hers.
She swallowed hard and retrieved her hand, legs weakened. “Nice to meet you too,” she managed.
Chapter 2
1980
New York
Freja had grown into a straightforward and self-confident teenager with a direct approach to life. Instantly drawn to Svala, it didn’t take long before the two girls became close friends.
Viggo watched them from a distance, and Svala often caught him smiling as they passed him in the school hallway. He never approached them together, but interrogated Svala when she was alone and no one would see them talking.
One day, he waited for her outside the school library. He stood leaned up against the brick wall, pretending to read from a book. Every now and then he glanced up, meeting Svala’s gaze through the tall glass door. Freja stood by the counter, sorting through some books for a history assignment on World War II. Svala excused herself and snuck out to talk to him.
“What’s she like?” Viggo asked, his gaze trained in the early edition of Hjalmar Söderberg’s Doctor Glas. He wore stonewashed jeans and a navy blue hoodie, unzipped, with the hood pulled over his head. A turquoise T-shirt peeked out underneath. He looked so different from a few weeks ago in Miami, dressed in that tuxedo.
“She’s amazing.” Svala stared at Viggo’s laid back outfit. The high school version of him intrigued her.
Freja waited by the receptionist desk as the librarian went through her pile of books. Viggo glanced at their daughter through the glass doors, and smiled. “She’s beautiful.”
When Freja searched for Svala, Viggo swiftly returned to his book, his smile lingering. Svala waved to their daughter, and as Freja found her, relief fell over her face. Then she rolled her eyes and nodded at the old librarian, who took her time stamping the tall stack of books.
“I want to know everything about her,” he whispered. “Can we meet up after school and talk?”
“Yes, but we have to be careful. Trym is watching me like a hawk.”
“Tell me about it. Alva interrogates me every day. It’s scary how easily she can tell when I’m lying.”
“Well, you shouldn’t be lying to her,” she said.
Freja stuffed the books into her backpack and headed for the exit. Svala cleared her throat to let Viggo know she
was on her way. He straightened, and stole a quick glance at their daughter over his shoulder. “I’ll wait outside after school. Follow me and we’ll pick some place at random.”
***
Svala did as told, and followed Viggo to a coffee shop downtown as soon as the school day had ended. The place was crowded with customers and she wished he’d picked someplace more secluded, as she recognized several kids from their school. She walked down to the end of the aisle and slid into the booth across from him. He leaned over the white plastic table and reached out to clutch her hands between his. She closed her eyes, welcoming the warmth rushing through her by his touch. When she opened her eyes, she met his smile. “Fifteen minutes, then I have to leave,” she whispered.
He nodded and pulled one of her hands to his lips, kissing it before he released her. “Tell me everything you know about her.”
She pushed her long, blonde hair behind her ear and leaned closer. “She’s lived in New York her whole life. She told me her parents died when she was five, and she doesn’t remember us at all. It’s difficult to talk about it. I get the feeling my questions frustrate her since she can’t remember.”
He fidgeted with a blue napkin on the table, his face tensed. “How are her adoptive parents?”
“From what I can tell, they’re decent people. She seems happy, but she did mention once that she’s been with her current family since we died.”
Viggo snorted and released the napkin. “So, they lied to us when we came to see them after the accident. They told us she was dead.”
She nodded. “Seems like it.”
He tightened his fist. “You think that’s a decent thing to do?”