Viking King's Vendetta (Viking Ancestors: Rise of the Dragon Book 1)

by Sky Purington

  His turbulent cobalt blue eyes turned her way. “Emily.”

  That was it. That was all he said in a voice deeper than she recalled. But it was all she needed to snap out of her reverie and fly into his arms despite the annoying and very sudden shyness she felt. He didn’t say anything just wrapped her up in his arms like he had always done. Yet, not surprisingly, even that felt different. More encompassing.

  That’s when she realized she was home.

  It wasn’t the village or even the people but him. She pressed her cheek against his chest and inhaled deeply. She had missed his scent. Spruce, and woodland. Him. Sven. Her best friend.

  “You are here,” he finally murmured, clearly relieved as he cupped her cheeks then brushed his lips across her forehead, just like he had always done. His eyes met hers. “I was worried about you.”

  “Me too...I was worried...” She pressed her lips together, rallying her strength when she wanted to sob in relief. Now wasn’t the time for that. Like Samantha said, he needed her to be strong. That’s how they worked. If she was faltering, he was strong for her and vice versa. That was their thing.

  Yet something unfortunate was happening considering everything going on. Arousal. And it would be damn hard to keep from his dragon if she weren’t careful. It wasn't enough to make her step away just yet though. She needed to be close to him for a little while longer.

  “What’s going on, Sven?” she said. “What have I missed?”

  Connecting telepathically with not just him but the others, she filled him in on what was happening in Maine. As she thought might be the case, he didn’t seem all that surprised.

  “Say hello to your kin,” he murmured as he pulled away. “Then we will go talk, and I will tell you what you’ve missed.”

  Their eyes held for another moment before she nodded and finally broke from the Sven bubble she had been in to find Elder Naðr Véurr and his wife Megan standing nearby. They smiled warmly and nodded hello before she flew into her mother’s waiting arms. Moments later, her father Matthew and brother Håkon joined in as well.

  “I missed you guys,” she whispered, tearing up despite herself.

  “We missed you too,” her mother replied, wiping away her own tears as she looked Emily over. “You look wonderful, sweetheart.”

  “So do you.” Her eyes swept over them. “All of you.”

  Theirs was an interesting and rare tale. A dragon family killed in a former life then reincarnated and brought together once more. Since the moment they all came together again, they had been extremely close.

  “Sister,” Håkon rumbled pulling her in for an extra hug. “Don’t leave for so long again...or at all.”

  “Okay,” she murmured, hugging him extra tight. Like Sven, he seemed to have filled out even more and still possessed the sort of looks that had always made him popular with the village girls. She glanced around as she stepped back. “Where’s Eirik?”

  “Where do you think?” Håkon muttered.

  Eirik was their little brother and the only sibling born to Matthew and her mother, Shannon. He was also the most powerful Dragon Medium on Midgard and even closer friends with Goddess Hel than Emily.

  “Tell me he’s not in Helheim again.” Fear made her stomach flip as she rounded her eyes at her mother. “He can’t be there right now.” She looked at Sven. “And you know why.”

  “He is probably safer there for now,” he countered. “Hel would not let anything happen to him.”

  That was true. But did Hel have any idea what was happening? She could only hope.

  Sven’s disposition had returned to normal now that Emily was here. Calm and collected. No more ordering people around. People who had since cleared out leaving just her family. Which made her wonder. Who was actually in charge here with King Heidrek gone? Because based on Sven’s actions, she would almost venture to say him.

  “I will catch Emily up on everything,” Sven said to the others as he urged her to follow him. “Then we will meet at the shore and speak with the people.”

  We meant him and Elder Naðr she was sure. Though somewhere in his eighties, the former Viking King was still remarkably strong and his wit sharp. Not only the villagers but King Heidrek and King Bjorn often turned to him for words of wisdom.

  She had returned home at a good time of year. Summer had arrived and with it, warmth. A temperate wind blew down from the sweeping mountains behind the Fortress as she followed Sven into his lodge.

  Again, she had a strong sensation of coming home as she looked around. It was exactly as she last saw it with various blades and shields hanging here and there. As always, she was taken aback by its astounding carvings. Sven had painstakingly carved the images in the beams that held up the high thatched roof. And each and every one had been created for her. All of them told a story, either for her entertainment when she was far younger or even to get her through difficult times during her teenage years.

  Her eyes went to one in particular, and she couldn’t help a small smile. She had been around twelve when Sven carved it for her. Riddled with unfortunate acne that no amount of dragon magic could overcome, she had been teased mercilessly by the boys. It didn’t matter that she was a dragon and could have torched them with one breath, kids were kids.

  To cheer her up and give her a little hope, Sven had carved a likeness of how he envisioned her looking a few years later which wasn’t all that far off and thankfully, acne free. Even better? He carved those same boys who teased her with their heads hung just wishing she would glance their way. That she would give them the time of day. To say the least, the carving had helped her through a rough time.

  Sven had always been good at that. He had helped her through a lot. She eyed him, concerned as he plunked down in a chair and stared aimlessly. Something he rarely if ever did. He was always focused, always thinking.

  “He’s going to be all right,” she said softly as she poured them ale then sat beside him. Things might be dire, but she knew what weighed on his mind most. She squeezed his hand. “No one’s as tough as your father, Sven.”

  While his eyes might have been adrift before when they focused on hers, they leveled, and he nodded. That was it. No words. And she didn’t blame him. She wouldn’t be holding up nearly so well if one of her parents were gone.

  “Tell me what’s happening,” she murmured. “Because I get the sense you’ve been part of things for a while now...even before our kin vanished.”

  He nodded, not releasing her hand. “I’ve been in medieval Scotland helping the MacLomains see through a curse.” His eyes stayed with her. “A curse that sparked a prophecy.”

  The Scottish MacLomains were the Sigdir’s descendants.

  She sighed. But of course, he had been helping them out if he was needed. She arched her brows. “The prophecy Sage was talking about then?”

  “Yes,” he replied grimly. “When the curse on Scotland lifted, the prophecy was finally revealed. Two trees. A double headed serpent.”

  She frowned. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “No,” he replied. “I was with Sage’s sister, Jessie on her adventure. Like Sage, she only just learned she had a sibling. Both shared their father’s ancestry which turns out to be directly descended from the great serpent Níðhöggr.”

  She nodded as another harsh chill swept over her. “That’s why Sage was so drawn to the ash’s roots then. Why she felt there was a dragon related to the tree.”

  “Perhaps,” he murmured, still holding her hand as he shared what he had learned about the rather daunting prophecy. “But the dragon she sensed could have just as easily been her bloodline’s nemesis, Níðhöggr’s enemy from Múspellsheimr, the double headed dragon. A beast Níðhöggr swore would someday be defeated by Níðhöggr’s descendants. He vowed they would destroy not just the enemy but any offspring he might have.”

  “So this dark prophecy ignited when Jessie’s curse lifted.” She narrowed her eyes. “A prophecy that clearly involves Sage and her
siblings.” She shook her head. “But what does that have to do with the strange plague that affected Uncle Heidrek and Uncle Bjorn?”

  “I’m not entirely sure yet,” he replied. “But from what I heard there can be no doubt that it’s all interrelated because of their behavior before they vanished.”

  When she frowned in question, he continued. “It seems before they shifted permanently, they were acting very bizarre. My father was convinced he was King Heidrek and Heidrek was convinced he was my father. To the point that they thought each other’s kingdoms were their own. Even worse, my father thought Cybil was his wife, and King Heidrek thought Samantha was his.”

  “Wow,” she whispered. “Poor Aunt Cybil and Aunt Samantha.”

  “Yes, it was difficult,” he confirmed. “But it was also telling.”

  She considered it for a moment, catching snippets of his thoughts as she nodded in understanding. “So we’re thinking that in some strange way they were possessed or infected by the double-headed serpent...two minds being manipulated somehow.”

  Sven nodded. “That’s the impression Naðr and Aðísla came to based on our kin’s behavior.”

  “Aðísla.” She shook her head, baffled. “I can’t believe she’s been in medieval Scotland all this time.”

  Aðísla had vanished before Emily ever met the Sigdirs. Off, it seemed, to help see them through a curse. Now she would have returned to her people only to find everyone she knew far older.

  “I know.” He took a sip of ale. “She gave up a great deal to help the MacLomains.”

  “So it seems.” Her eyes fell to their adjoined hands as she contemplated. “So what was it like with the MacLomains?” Her eyes returned to his. “I take it you helped someone with dragon blood.”

  “I did,” he confirmed. “Jessie’s mate, Bryce.”

  She nodded, glad he could be there for them. It wasn’t the first time a Sigdir had traveled through time to help a MacLomain or the other way around.

  “So obviously Jessie came from the twenty-first century,” she murmured, eying him as she started to pick up on something. A connection to Jessie she hadn’t felt until this very moment staring into his eyes. She tensed, not entirely sure she liked it. “Did you tell her about me?”

  “Actually,” he replied softly, not releasing her hand when she tried to pull it away. “She told me about you.” He got that look when he was about to tell her something that would upset her. “Emily, you have met Sage’s sister Jessie you just don’t remember it.”

  Chapter Five

  HE SAT BACK and crossed his arms over his chest when Emily yanked her hand away and scowled. Naturally, she figured things out in no time. “Who the hell did Jessie think she was enchanting me against my will?” She leapt to her feet and planted her hands on her hips. “And why didn’t you kick her ass for doing it?!”

  Understanding full well where she was coming from, Sven explained. “She was trying to protect you from evil. She kept you safe, Emily.”

  “Em,” she muttered. She had been trying for years to get him to call her by her self-declared nickname.

  “You’ll always be Emily to me,” he reminded, his eyes glued to her as she paced. It was something they had in common. Pacing when distraught.

  While he certainly understood her angst, he was never more grateful to Jessie for keeping Emily safe. His beautiful Emily. Even more stunning now than he remembered, her wild black curls were in disarray as usual, and trailing halfway down her back. With delicate, even features, plush lips and soft, ivory skin, her stunning beauty turned heads everywhere she went. Not that she ever seemed aware of it. But that was half her charm. She thought both her inner and outer beauty equaled every woman she met. It never occurred to her that not just her looks but her warm personality were one of a kind.

  As her thickly lashed big blue eyes narrowed on him in renewed disbelief, they flickered lighter blue. Something they only ever did around him. Something they had started doing when she was around eighteen, and he knew full well why.

  Love was blossoming.

  Where love had always existed between them, it had begun to transform into something deeper around that time. The unmistakable sort of affinity found between a man and woman. While he recognized it right away, she had been in a denial of sorts. He suspected above all she feared they would lose the close bond they already shared. That romance might ruin it.

  Either way, once her eyes starting lightening for him, the dynamics of their bond started changing anyway. They bickered where they never had before. Things got complicated when they had always been easy. So maybe she was right. Perhaps romance was the last thing they needed.

  Yet that logic didn’t stop how he felt every time he thought about or looked at her. Every time her mind brushed his. Not just him but his inner dragon was completely in love with her, and there was no hope for it. That would never change. If he couldn’t have her, he would take no other. Simple as that.

  “So what?” Her eyes widened yet again in dismayed shock as she followed his thoughts about what Jessie had done before she traveled back in time. “She pretended to be a cleaning service, waltzed right into my home then proceeded to cast a spell on me so I wouldn’t remember she was ever there?”

  “She cast a spell to protect you from great harm, Emily,” he replied. “And by doing so, did me a great service.” He sat forward and made sure she understood just how dire it had been. “If what we fought in Scotland had known about you, you wouldn’t be standing here now. You never would have survived.”

  “You don’t know that,” she countered. “I’m not without my fair share of magic, Sven.”

  Ah, this again. “I know you’re not. I’ve always known that.”

  “Did you?” She narrowed her eyes. “Because I never really got the impression you thought I could stand on my own two feet, in dragon form or otherwise.”

  “I always knew you could,” he defended. “But like I said then, and I’ll say now, that won’t stop me from protecting you at all costs.” He shook his head. “It’s second nature.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she muttered as she plunked down in a chair again, this time across the small table from him. “And like I said then, I’m not your kid sister anymore.”

  “You were never my kid sister. We are of no blood relation.” He ground his teeth and narrowed his eyes, not sure how they got off track. “And as you well know, sister is the very last word that comes to mind when I think of you.”

  Their eyes held for a moment before she took a deep gulp of ale. She knew exactly how he felt about her.

  “Well, either way, I might as well have been your kid sister with the age difference,” she finally said softly. “Or at least that’s how everyone around here viewed us.”

  “There aren’t even ten years between us,” he muttered. “And less now because I’ve been in the future.”

  Because of the way time passed by differently, he was closer in age now to his brother and cousins. Physically anyway. He sighed and took an even deeper swig of ale than she had. Though she’d never said it out loud, he knew she referred to those awkward teenage years when she was, most definitely, too young for him. Those few years where she didn’t quite see him as a man yet but was jealous enough when she knew he lay with women.

  It was, without doubt, an awkward time.

  “You’ve been in the future a lot, haven’t you,” she murmured. Her pupils flared as she caught snippets of thoughts he had kept from her. “Not just medieval Scotland but...” Her eyes narrowed then widened. “You were in the twenty-first century too!”

  “Yes,” he confirmed.

  “When?” Hurt flickered in her eyes. “When I was there?”

  “Sometimes, yes,” he said.

  Clearly wounded, her lips turned down. “And you didn’t come see me?” She shook her head, confused. “I don’t get it. Why were you there then?”

  “Several reasons,” he replied honestly because she would get it out of him eventually. “To
keep an eye on you...and to better understand your homeland...your original era.” His eyes met hers. “To better understand you.”

  “But you already knew me,” she said softly. “Better than anyone.” Her brows drew together. “And you’d been to the twenty-first century as a teenager not to mention knew of it through your connection to my aunts and me.”

  “It wasn’t enough,” he replied. “I wanted to spend time alone there. To understand the world you came from as well as you understand this one.”

  Their eyes held again as that sank in. As she understood what he was really saying. There was no length he wouldn’t go when it came to connecting with her even further. To finally be together as he had long hoped.

  “You could’ve at least popped in,” she muttered as her eyes fell to her mug. “But thanks for...” her eyes returned to his, “well, for caring enough I suppose.” A small smile curled her lips. “It must’ve been quite the adventure.”

  He met her grin. “Almost as daunting as fighting pure evil.”

  They both knew he preferred nature to anything even remotely metropolitan. To that point, he wasn’t surprised by her next question.

  “I got the impression back there that you’re in charge,” she said. “If anything, I’d think you’d take your father’s place at the Keep not here. And though I applaud the premise, I’m shocked you agreed. More than that, Soren isn’t...well...”

  Soren was King Heidrek’s son and a leader by nature. When he was around that is.

  “Soren’s been gone for months on some crusade or another,” he replied. “And Davyn is set to avenge Father though he has no idea where he might be.”

  Her brows arched in surprise. “Do you mean to tell me that both clans want you to take over? Even though you were gone so long?” She frowned as her eyes swept over his lodge again. “How long have you been gone anyway? This place looks identical to the last time I saw it.”

  “Because it is,” he murmured, polishing off his ale as he remembered all too well the day she left. Not from the Keep where they had spent far more time but from this very lodge.