“Is mommy Lilith okay?” he asks with worried eyes and an open jaw.
“Aye, little man. We must go now, right?”
“No,” Lilith digs her nails into my arm, and her jaw is so tight, I wonder if the bone is about to break. “I’m not going to make it,” she screams. “Put me down. Put me down.”
I do what she says and unwrap the fur and spread her legs. “Goddess, the head is right there.” I keep my mouth shut about how painful it looks. I don’t want to sleep outside with the wolves for the rest of my life.
“Rian,” I kneel on the ground and have to shake him a little to get his attention. “You must run and get Leiva. Can you do that?”
He nods fast. “I can do it, Uncle Beowoof. Pwomise.”
I love this boy. “Go. Hurry.” I push him out the door, and he nearly trips. Well, he does trip, but he gets up quickly and runs straight for the castle. Moments like this are when I regret us not living in the castle, but Lilith insists that she loves this cabin and refuses to go anywhere.
Running my hand through my hair, I settle between Lilith’s legs and hold my hands near the opening. I have no idea what I’m doing, but Lilith seems to know her body well. Her stomach tightens, and she pushes. With every push and scream and raking of nails down my arm, the head comes out further.
“Look at all that dark hair!” I say with tears in my eyes. This is my child. Our child. Something that has been in the making for far too long. Our future is here. It’s finally fucking here.
“You can do it, Angel. You’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you. You’re so strong,” I croon to her.
She flops on the bed, exhausted, sweating, and gasping for air. The baby is almost out. The head is out.
“I can’t. It hurts,” she sobs, pressing the heel of her hands against her eyes.
I kiss her knee and shake my head with disagreement. “I love you. You can do it. You’re almost there. The head is out. Come on, Angel.”
Her stomach ripples again and she pushes down with a scream. Slowly, the head protrudes from the wide opening, and once the shoulders are out, I wrap my hands around the small body and tug him free, hoping to ease her pain. She groans with relief, and I hold the babe in my arms. He is bloody and covered in white mucus, but he is beautiful.
“We have a son,” I choke and lift him to his mother’s arms. She deserves to hold him right now. All I need to do is appreciate my family, my luck at a second chance, and my angels.
“I’m here,” Leiva hits the door frame and drops her satchel when she sees that the baby made it into the world without her.
I kiss the side of Lilith’s damp hair and breathe her in. She still smells of the sun. “What shall we name him?”
She lays her head on my shoulder, and his small hand wraps around her finger, making her cry. “Angelo because I think the reason you have always called me Angel was because of him. The life we have always wanted. The dream we have always shared, Beowulf. It’s here. And he is everything I dreamed he would be and more.”
“Sounds perfect.”
I never thought I’d have everything I ever wanted. Not when life’s cruelty took it from me before. I fell in love with Lilith in the sun.
And I’ll love her forever for giving me one.
THE END
Book Four - The Viking’s Captive
Description
Giving into his demand came with an unexpected surprise, our baby.
Our two families have feuded for decades.
I’m the daughter of his enemy.
We’re two people that should've never met.
But in one night I became his captive Princess.
A pawn in his game.
A way for him to beat my family.
Who is he?
Trident’s a man that takes what he wants.
A gorgeous, giant brute.
At every turn, I fought him.
But there’s a side of him that only I know.
A protective side that made me safer than I’ve ever felt before.
I fell for all of him. I couldn't deny him any longer.
Marrying him and giving him my innocence is insane and forbidden.
Once our families find out about our news...
It could end this feud or destroy us all.
Prologue
Trident
Flashes of the battle flicker through the forefront of my mind as I lay in a bed next to Wulf’s. My friend. My brother. The man I saw get stabbed and stare at me with disbelief as he fell to his knees, clutching the bleeding wound.
Pure panic surged through my body as if it were adrenaline. I can’t remember how many Jackals I killed to get to him. I fought my way through a crowd of them, scared and pissed off that some worthless piece of human flesh got the best of Wulf−−the best damn warrior I know.
I never thought twice about picking him up and carrying him. I never stopped. I trudged through the thick, freshly fallen snow, pushing through exhaustion and pain, ignoring his blood dripping down my face. I refused to give up until I had brought my best friend home.
When I got here, I didn’t know if he was alive or not. I just knew I had to bring him back to Lilith. They spent so many horrible years apart that I had to at least bring him to the person who brought him the most happiness. He would have done it for me.
“You’re awake.” Leiva’s voice is terse and full of rage simmering beneath her skin. She’s mad at me. She takes a big green chunk of paste and slaps it on my arm.
Hell, I didn’t even notice that cut.
“You’re mad,” I croak through a raw, dry throat.
She huffs with a shake of her head and clicks her tongue. I’ve never seen her so out of sorts. Leiva is always so contained and particular; she knows what she needs, she knows what should be done, and she takes no shite from anyone.
I grab her hand and hold back a groan of pain that spreads down my arm from my shoulder. “Why are you mad at me?”
Leiva finally gives me her blue eyes and they are swimming with tears. Her chin wobbles, but a drop doesn’t fall. She holds herself together like she always does. “Why am I mad at you?” The incredulous tone is evident in her voice. “Trident Karsten, I should wring your neck!” She slaps a cloth on my arm. Ouch. That’s still a pretty good sting.
“Ow, what in the bloody hell was that for? You’re mad, woman.” I rub the spot that she hit. It doesn’t truly hurt, but it emotionally wounded me. Leiva isn’t violent in nature. What has gotten into her?
“I’m mad? You haven’t seen mad, Trident Karsten.” She wiggles her finger in front of my face, bending down closer with every word she speaks. “You foolish man. You could have died. What would I have told your parents? You wanted to play heroics. So like you, Trident. I swear, always having to be the one to save the day. And you leave me to make sure you stay alive. One of these days, I’m not going to be able to do it, Trident. One of these days, you’re going to be too far gone, almost like our Sir Beowulf. And what will I do then? I’ve known you my entire life. You brought Grim to our village to set the rest of us free. I know your parents. They’ve broken bread with my mother and father. What would I have done?”
I narrow my eyes a bit at her and scoot away the best I can without causing myself more pain. “You would have missed me. Holy shite, you would have!” I say, a teasing grin playing on my lips.
“Oh, don’t be so full of yourself,” she mutters, wiping the dew under her eyes. Leiva has such gentle features. She always looks soft and kind. Her skin never wrinkles; it’s pale and clear of blemishes. But right now, there’s a wrinkle between her eyebrows and a frown gracing her swollen red lips. I forgot they do that when she cries. They become all puffy and bruised. It was the only way I knew growing up when she was upset.
“Leiva, I’m here. I’m fine. Wulf is alive.” I can’t turn my head to look at him because it hurts too much, but I know he is there. “If I didn’t do what I did, he would have died. I would have never forgiven myse
lf.”
“I know.” She pats my cheek. “It’s what makes you such a wonderful warrior. A lot of them have no heart, but you do. You always have. But goddess, Trident.” She fluffs her skirt before she sits down and takes my hand. “You could have broken your spine. He weighs so much. You tore muscles. It’s going to take so many months to heal that. You won’t be able to train. You’re covered in cuts, and you broke four toes.”
“I didn’t get stabbed through the torso and barely live, Leiva. You need not worry about me. It’s going to take more than Wulf to kill me.” I take her hand in mine and rub my thumb over her knuckles.
“Besides Wulf, you’ve always been my greatest friend. I know you worry, but I’m fine. Truly.” I sigh, noticing the dark circles under her eyes; it seems she hasn’t been sleeping well. “Enough of me. How are you? And Leiva, can I get some water?” I try and swallow again, but my throat’s dry and raw.
She rushes to the side of the bed and pours a wooden cup full of water. Her palm holds the back of my head up, and her cold hand eases my low throbbing headache. The wooden rim of the cup meets my lips, and Leiva tilts her wrist, which causes the drink to flow into my mouth. I swallow greedily. I’m so thirsty; I could drink an entire ocean.
“Slow down. You’ll make yourself sick.” she scolds. She pulls the water away from me and lays my head back down. “And I’m fine. Just tired. You warriors keep me busy.”
“You need help in here, Leiva. You can’t keep doing it on your own.”
“I’m not alone, I have Alaric. I’m happy with him as my apprentice. He just needs to get a little bit stronger before he can be of full use to me.”
“What about Erik? He could help you with the heavy lifting.” I lift a brow at her and watch her cheeks blush. The damn man was in here before the battle, pretending he was sick. The fool is madly in love with her, but I’m not sure if she knows.
“Oh, he is a guard. You know he isn’t interested in medicine.”
“I think he would be interested in medicine because of you.”
She pushes a piece of hair behind her ear and makes a noise in the back of her throat, telling me she disagrees. “No. He is kind and a good friend. Plus, a man his size? He is made to be a guard. You men can be too brutal. My luck, you lot would try to save someone and break their arm, or something of the sort.”
“You have such little faith in us.”
She deadpans me with a stare and waves her hand up and down my body to support her statement. “You do see the condition you’re in, don’t you?”
She stands, and I hardly feel her weight leave the bed, she’s so light. “I must go get some more supplies from the village. If you need anything, well, you shall have to wait.”
I’m usually the one that brings her what she needs from the village. Damn, I hate resting. It’s not good for anyone.
“I’m fine. I can go get it.” I try to push myself up in a seated position, but my arm gives out, and when I flop down on the bed, pain shoots through my spine. I clench my fists as hard as I can, letting out a moan that can only be described as surrender. “You win.”
“That’s what I thought.” She pats my shoulder and tucks the blanket under my chin. “Don’t try to do anything foolish while I’m gone. Call for Alaric if you need something.”
“Like I can,” I grumble. The only view I have is of the damn ceiling. I’m tired of looking at the fucking stone. If I keep staring at it, I’m afraid I’ll turn into a rock.
Leiva lets out a laugh that can only be described as a bit maniacal as she leaves. It echoes down the hall with her, getting further away, sentencing me to my doom. I blow out a breath and try to relax. This will be the only time in my life I’ll get to rest and do nothing.
I close my eyes and try to go to sleep, but I’m too restless. I’m sore and aching, but I hate lying in bed. I’m never this still.
“Stop your bitching and moaning.”
Gasping, I try and turn my neck, but I can’t. My muscles won’t allow me. I grit my teeth and continue to stare at the damn ceiling, counting the blocks that make the castle.
“Damn, it’s good to hear your voice, old friend,’” I say to Wulf. “You had us scared to death.”
“I’m fine. It would take far more than that to kill me.”
“That would have killed you, Wulf.”
He sighs. “Aye, I know. I have you to thank for that. You carried my big arse for two days. I’m forever in your debt, brother.”
“Nay, I’ll be honest. When I brought you back, I expected to bury you. I thought you were dead. I wanted Lilith to be able to say her goodbyes to you. You both deserved that much. I lost hope for your life when I felt your blood draining down my neck. I never put you down, though. I never rested. I knew I had to get you home.”
Wulf grunts. The sound has me pushing through the pain to turn my head. Water fills my eyes, and my muscles protest. Pure agony rips through my body, and fire spreads through my veins. I want to scream. Wulf is sitting up, a hand over his gut, and he stands, stumbling his way to my bed with a pale, sweaty face. He takes my hand in his and grips, squeezing my fingers to the point of pain.
“Thank you, brother. Thank you.”
My eyes drift down to the hand on his stomach. He has dried blood around the bandages, along with other scars. Damn, the poor bloke can’t seem to catch a break. Another one to add to the collection, I suppose.
“What happened, Wulf? You’ve never been stabbed like that before. It’s like you blanked,” I ask the question that’s been burning in my mind ever since I picked him up and carried him for two days.
“I don’t know. I was thinking of Lilith. I was so full of rage and revenge. My emotions were leading me. It’s the one thing you aren’t supposed to do. I never had to worry about it before.”
He sits back down on the bed, the cot dipping from his weight. Leaning back, he tosses his legs in the air, swinging them over until he can lay down and stare at the ceiling. It’s so damn boring in here.
“If love blinds you, I don’t want anything to do with it.” Lie. I want everything to do with it. It blows, seeing my friends pairing off and starting families, and here I am, alone.
Much has changed since Lord Grimkael led us to this kingdom not so long ago. Happiness surrounds me. Children’s laughter floats through the air every day, but not my children. I’m starting to wonder if love is in the cards for me.
“Nay, you’re a fool if you don’t want love and the warmth of a good woman in your bed every night, welcoming you home. Lilith is the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me, and you’ll feel the same when you meet the woman that turns your world upside down.”
“Right,” I say with a little belief.
“Truly. You’ll see, Trident. You’re a good man. There is no way the goddess won’t gift you.”
I want to believe him, I really do. I want to wake up from war and see a beautiful face staring back at me. But sometimes we don’t always get what we want. Sometimes, we get stabbed. Sometimes, we have to save our friends’ lives by carrying them a hundred miles. Sometimes, want and need are two different things. Perhaps the goddess thinks I don’t want love, so she hasn’t blessed me with it.
But I don’t want love. I need it.
Chapter One
Sylvie
“Are you coming down for dinner?” my mother calls from the other side of my locked bedroom door with a soft knock.
I stare at the door for a long moment, torn between not wanting to get up and continuing to daydream, and torturing myself downstairs listening to my parents talk about how I’m not getting any younger—that I need to hurry up and marry someone.
Hmm, I’ll stay.
I light a candle with a burning twig from the fireplace and grab the silver handle it is in. “I’m staying in for the night, mother.”
“Are you not hungry, darling?” she asks, her feet casting shadows in the crack of the door.
I’m starving, but I’d rather wait unti
l morning before getting hounded again about my love life or lack thereof.
“I’m feeling under the weather. I shall see you in the morning.” I place the silver tray on the large stone windowsill, causing the candle to illuminate the grain in the makeshift shelf I’ve made it to be. Sitting down, my finger slides the iron latch holding the window to the left. I push the shutters open until the ocean breeze sweeps across my face. I close my eyes and inhale, taking in the salty air and the rich aroma of the sea.
There’s nothing like it.
“Are you sick? Do you need anything?”
I can almost feel her palm as she lays it on the door like she always does when she gets concerned. “I’m fine, Mother. I’m just going to sleep. I think I’m just tired.”
She scoffs, “I knew taking those French lessons would be too much. I’m telling your father. Unbelievable.”
I hold my hand over my mouth to muffle the laugh when I hear her shuffle away, mumbling under her breath about my father being so hard to please. Sighing, I lean my head against the window frame and look out toward the night. It’s so beautiful. It’s black with tints of blue, and the moon is full, hanging high in the sky and hugged by twinkling stars. The sea is gentle; the waves tiring out before they even get to shore. It’s calm, just begging me to go and jump in it to cause a ruckus.
I’m good at that—causing a ruckus. At least, that’s what my father says. Apparently, I do not act as a lady should at times. I’m too… lively and outspoken. But acting in such a manner is so boring. I don’t like pretending to be something I’m not. I understand the rules, and I know when it is important to be on my best behaviour, but sometimes, I just want to let go. I want to take off all my clothes and go skinny dipping in the ocean. What’s so wrong with that?
Instead, I must follow the image my father goes on and on about. “We are Alands. We act with grace and integrity. We show respect and gain respect. Anything else shall not be tolerated. It will ruin the family name. We shall not lose favor with the nobles. I won’t let you ruin it with your wild heart. There is no room for such a thing in this world.”
Vikings' Brides 4 Book Box Set Page 73