Vikings' Brides Box Set

by Jessica Knight

  “May I have some water, little lavender?” his hand shakes as he points to the mug on the nightstand.

  “Anything you want.” I rush and take the water in hand. I lift him up, and the rim of the mug touches his lips. I tilt it until I see the water touching his lips, and he swallows. When he is done, he is gasping for air, winded just from the simplicity of having a drink.

  “Thank you.”

  I hold his hand again and bring the cool palm to my cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me? You shouldn’t have hidden this from me. You wait until I am gone? Until I may not be able to get to you in time?”

  “I know you must be angry at me,” he admits, and the rattle in his chest reminds me of rocks grinding against each other. I grab the water again, urging him to take another drink. Once he does, he settles, sighing as the back of his head hits the pillow again.

  “I’m not angry. Just confused. I love you. I would have wanted to be here for you instead of leaving.” But even the thought of never being with Grim sends a shooting pain in my stomach. My life now is wonderful, but I would have given it up if it meant spending every waking moment with my father. I could have found love whenever. I have all the time in the world.

  He does not.

  “I’m old, my love. You are so young, and I wanted you to get the best out of life. I wanted you to marry and settle down. I want you to have children and hold hands with the person you love. I love you, but I miss your mother dearly. I want to see her again more than anything. You turned out to be a beautiful, smart, and strong woman. My work is done.”

  “But it isn’t! What of your future grandchildren? What of them? You choose to leave me?” I cry through the madness bubbling under my skin.

  “My grandchildren that I don’t have. Hypotheticals, my love.”

  “But I need you.” I lay my head against his brittle chest and let the tears fall freely. His heart struggles to beat. It’s slow. The pathetic beat makes me sob even harder.

  “You don’t need me. Look at me, Sassa,” he rasps, and I lift my head up. He runs his fingers through my hair. My eyes flutter closed, and I remember how he used to do this every night as I fell asleep. “You are married now, yes?”

  “I am. He may have been a madman when he arrived here to give you an ultimatum, but the Viking is a good husband.”

  “I knew he would be. He seemed honorable, even if a bit frightening.”

  A laugh mixed with sadness leaves my body. The pain is becoming impossibly hard to hide. “He is, isn’t he? But I love him. I loved him the moment I laid eyes on him, but you know me, I must make everything difficult.”

  This time he laughs, but it leads to a coughing fit. I reach for the water again and press it against his lips. He drinks greedily until the mug is empty. I dip it into the basin next to his bed, refilling it. I put it up to his lips, but he stops me, holding up his hand to say no more.

  I put the mug back down and take both of my hands to hold his skeletal one.

  “You were never difficult. You aren’t difficult. I’m proud of the woman you have become, my little lavender. You are strong. You stand your ground. Perhaps, only a Viking would be able to handle you, because no other man has had a backbone when it comes to you. I was lucky to be your father.”

  “You are my father. You are still here. Don’t talk like that.” I search his eyes for any amount of fight left, but it’s gone. He wants to die. The dark circles under his eyes and the dull shine lets me know; he has completely given up and grown tired of fighting what, apparently, is the inevitable.

  He nods and smacks his lips to wet them. I take the salve in my hand, scooping the sheer substance onto my fingers and pressing it against his lips. “Thank you.”

  “Of course.”

  “Tell me about this warlord. How has your life been there?”

  I decide to catch him up on everything. “Well, when I first met him, I couldn’t stand the man.”

  “Naturally,” he laughs.

  “But then I started to see sides of him I’d never seen before. On that first day, because I still wasn’t sure about him, I ran. But the close encounter of almost being kidnapped by a Jackal, made me realize he isn’t so bad of a man. So, I married him, and then I actually did get kidnapped by Jackals,” I say with furrowed brows.

  “What? How! What happened? I’ll kill that Warlord for not protecting you.”

  “He did, and he also had to protect his people. His second protected me and almost died because of it. I was taken, but it was by Jackals that are no longer Jackals. Mere rogues, I suppose.”

  “Ah, the Voided King. I’ve heard of him, barely. He was starting to make small waves, but nothing significant.”

  “But did you hear that the Voided King was Grim Kael’s brother?”

  “No!” My father’s eyes are wide.

  “Half-brother. They were never close. Grim killed him.”

  “No remorse?”

  “None. Grim didn’t see him as family.”

  “Makes sense, I suppose, but nevertheless, it couldn’t have been easy for him.” My father yawns, and his eyelids flutter to close.

  “He did it to rescue me.”

  My father smiles, his eyes still closed.

  “I’ll leave you be, Father. Aala is bringing a cot for me to stay by your side. I’ll be here when you wake.” I bring the fur blanket up to his shoulders to keep him nice and warm.

  “You don’t have to do that, but I welcome it,” he says.

  “Good because I’m not going anywhere.” I bend down to leave a kiss on his cheek, and when I rise to stare at his aged face, he is already asleep. “Sleep well, Father. Don’t go yet,” I beg, patting his chest with my palm.

  The door opens again, and it is Aala carrying a cot. She rolls it out next to the bed and grabs a fur from the closet. “Here you are. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Aala?”

  “Yes, my lady?” she asks, fluffing a pillow before placing it on the small bed.

  “What is wrong with him? Do you know?”

  “He has a lump on his side, ma’am, and the physicians keep removing it, but it keeps coming back. I think that is what is killing him. It’s some kind of witchcraft if you ask me.”

  “You think someone hexed him? I doubt it. I’m sure it’s just something about the body,” I say, climbing on the cot and settling in.

  “I don’t know, Your Highness. Maybe. There are many things that we can’t explain. This is one of them, unfortunately. Have a good sleep, Lady Sassa.”

  “You, too, Aala.” I shove my hands under my cheek and stare at the bed that holds my father. It’s one of those moments that are hard to believe. I never would have thought I’d be here, waiting on my father to take his last breath. As children, we look at our parents as immortal. We don’t think they will ever die, and then we are here, facing them with their old age and sickness, wondering where the fountain of youth went wrong.

  I toss and turn, unable to sleep or get comfortable. I have too much on my mind. I may have to plan a funeral, and I know Grim is on his way, angry and worried. It’s another reason I can’t sleep. I wish he was here, holding me, whispering that everything shall be fine, that he has me and is never going to let me go. He will hold me through the pain of losing my father, bringing comfort in the most uncomfortable circumstances.

  Because death will come. It is only a matter of time now.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Grim

  We trot to the gate, where the same two men that were there when I first came here to stake my claim on Sassa stand. They lose their confidence when they see us, as all men usually do. I hop off my horse and straighten to my full height, towering over the fools holding their useless weapons. They can only dare to use them against me.

  I’ll kill them faster than they can lift it in the air.

  “Where is my wife?” I demand, placing my hand on my faithful sword.

  “She is visiting with her father, Warlord. She is expecting y
ou.” They stand to the side to let me through, and I lift a brow. Well, this is a change of pace.

  “Thank you for not making me kill you to get by.” I deepen my voice to sound threatening, and they practically shake in their boots. Cowards.

  “Thank you for not killing us,” the one with green eyes says.

  “The day is young still.” Einarr’s laugh booms throughout the kingdom, and the guard’s throats pulse once as they heavily swallow.

  I want to laugh, but I keep my expression serious. I never planned on killing them. I’m pretty sure Sassa would have my balls, and I quite like them where they are. The lonely clicks of the horse’s hooves sound in the silence. We glance around to look for any sort of life but see nothing. Everyone is in their homes.

  I expect to wait for the King to pass.

  “This is gloomy,” Einarr states.

  He is right. Emotion hangs heavy in the air, and I can almost feel Sassa’s pain radiating from the castle. I wish I could fix this for her, but nothing can change the pathway to death once one is on it. “Come on, let’s take the horses to the stables and then we shall see what we can do.”

  We walk under the archway of the castle and look around in awe. It is such a beautiful piece of property. Rose bushes bloom everywhere. Vines crawl up the bones of the castle, and the smell of the stables hit my nose as we get closer.

  Einarr lets out a low whistle. “Now these are nice stables.”

  I must agree. The stables are very large, and a few horses peek their heads out, neighing to say hello. Beast and Jasmine ignore all the horses with their heads held high like they knew they were stronger and more capable than the horses here. Not to bad mouth the royal horses, but they are. Our horses are bred for battle.

  We put them in the same stall and take off their saddles and leads. I pet Beast for a moment before walking out of the stables. I am not sure how long we will be here, but I won’t rush it. If she wants to stay forever, I will be able to figure out how I can make it work. I don’t know how, but nothing is impossible.

  The air is cold, and the sun is warm as we stride to the entrance of the castle. I can’t wait to see Sassa, but I know how sad she will be. I’m trying to prepare myself for it, but I don’t think I’m ready.

  Einarr doesn’t seem to pick up on my emotions because he takes his heavy hand and bangs his fist against the door. An older woman peeks her head out, silver strands of hair frizzed out, but the kindness in her eyes melts all of my worries away. How did she do that?

  “Oh, you must be Grimkael and Einarr. Lady Sassa told me to expect you.”

  “Did she now?” I ask, smoothing a hand over the smile on my face. Now is not the time to smile.

  “She did. She said, and I quote, ‘The big brute will come knock on the door and demand me back, but you can tell him I’m not going anywhere and if he tries to do anything, I’ll tie him to a chair.’” The old woman purses her lips. “Well, something like that. That may not be word for word.”

  “I understand.” I place my hand on my chest and give a respectful bow. “I am Grimkael, War—”

  “Warlord of the Vikings. Yes, yes. I know who you are, but—” She runs a hand through her hair, which is not helping the dry straw at all. “I care who this is.” She bites her old, aged lip at Einarr.

  His brows raise to his forehead, and the expression I see, I wish could be painted so I could see it forever. Again, I want to laugh, but I know now isn’t the time. Einarr shakes his head and grabs the woman’s hand, who is old enough to be our grandmother, and kisses her palm. “It’s nice to meet you ma’am. I am Grim’s second, Einarr.”

  “Einarr. What a strong name. Are you a warrior, Einarr?”

  “I am,” he says proudly.

  “Well, how about you show an old lady what a warrior can do?”

  I cough as surprise gets caught in my throat. That came out of the blue and hit me right in the windpipe.

  “Aala! Mind your hands!” Sassa’s chiding voice floats through the air from afar. I look up to see her walking down the stairs with such elegance and grace. Her delicate hand holds onto the rail as she descends. The closer she gets, the more I see her sadness.

  Her face is pale like she has been sick as well, and she has dark circles under her eyes. Her hair is up but needs a good wash, but all of it is ignored when her eyes land on me.

  “Grim!” she yells, grabbing the heavy skirt in her hands and running down the rest of the steps. She throws herself at me, and I catch her, wrapping my arms around her beautiful body, pulling her close.

  “You frightened the hell out of me, Sassa,” I whisper, with nothing but warmth.

  “I’m sorry, Grim. I had to get here. Father, he isn’t well. I don’t think he is going to live much longer.”

  I hold her hand in mine, squeezing her cold fingers and try to get them warm, “We are here, and we won’t leave until we must.”

  “Thank you!” She throws her arms around my neck again.

  “Anything for you,” I whisper, for the words are only for her.

  She pulls back and wipes her eyes. “And Aala, leave Einarr alone. He could be your grandson.”

  “But he isn’t, Your Highness.”

  “No, he isn’t, but he has his eye on someone else.”

  “Aw, pity. I should have known.” She spins on her heels and makes a dramatic exit, leaving Einarr stunned. It isn’t often I see him like that. It’s hilarious.

  “Don’t mind her. She is going batty with her old age. Come on; I’ll show you to your rooms.”

  “Rooms? Do I not get to sleep with my runaway wife? Your Highness?” I kid, lacing my fingers through hers as we make our way up the steps.

  “Of course you do. I’m just staying with Father right now. I want to be there… especially if he—” She covers her mouth with her hand, her voice hitching from emotion.

  “I want to be where you are. If you are by your father, I want to be next to you. You are not alone in your pain, Sassa.” I grab her face and bring her face to mine, placing a soft, meaningful kiss on her perfect lips.

  She smiles through watery eyes and opens the wooden door. Einarr has to duck to not hit his head on the stone, but once he is in the room, he can stand straight. There is a large bed in the middle of the room with fine furs only the rich can have.

  “I’m sure you’re tired after such a long journey.”

  “Is Thyra here?” he asks, completely ignoring her statement.

  “She is at home with her father. Who is my father’s second,” she adds, taking a step forward to Einarr. “She is my best friend. And she is delicate. She isn’t like me. She is impressionable. She believes in some sort of tradition where a woman listens to her man, to a certain extent. She thinks lowly of herself. And wants love so deeply she can taste it. Now, if you are going to use her, you can stop right now, because as your Queen, I shall make sure you never see her again. She is a sweet woman, and she deserves as such.”

  I’m so damn proud of my wife. She is so strong and brave to stand against a warrior five times her size. Not many women will tell a man what to do, but Sassa does not care. She does what she believes is right, whether people like it or not.

  “I understand. I want the same for her. I can be that.”

  She gives Einarr a compassionate grin, setting her hand on his shoulder. “I know you can. You may want to wait to try to court her. She is having more of a traditional way of finding a suitor at her birthday party. Men from all over are coming. She was excited about it until she met you. She doesn’t think you’re going to show.” She lifts a brow in challenge.

  “Only death can stop me,” he growls.

  “I’ll let her know you are here, Einarr.”

  “Thank you, Sassa.” He sits down on the bed, and the frame cracks.

  We all stare at him wide-eyed, as he does to us but before any of us can act, the frame snaps and the bed hits the ground with a solid cloud of dust. Sassa snorts and tries to hide her laugh through her ha
nd but, it is no use. The musical sound flutters through the air, wrapping around my heart, making me more entranced by her.

  It’s infectious. Einarr starts to laugh, and then I find myself following along.

  “You big bastard,” I say as Einarr gets up, and as he does, the top of the bed falls, and the frame shatters into a million pieces.

  He sighs, staring at the mess he made. “I’m sorry, Sassa. I’ll make a new one.”

  “Don’t worry about it. This can be your room. I should have known you were too big for a bed frame. Oh, my. That was funny. I needed a good laugh.” She wipes under her eyes again, only the move isn’t to wipe away sad tears, but happy ones.

  Einarr smiles. It is a bit awkward and forced like he has been out of practice using the muscles on his face. “I’m glad I could be of service.”

  Sassa yawns and takes me by the hand. “I would like to nap. Want to come with me?” she asks.

  I study her for a moment, wondering if nap really meant nap. Is this a trap? What if I want more than a nap? With the situation being so extreme, I assume it means that sex won’t happen. I’m fine with that, I just don’t want to mix my signals.

  “I’d love to nap,” I reply, testing her words back at her to see if there is any kind of reaction.

  She bites her lip and gives me a grin that can seduce any man. “Good because I’m exhausted.”

  I drag her out the door and slam it closed. Einarr shouts something behind it, but I don’t hear it.

  “Where are we going?” she asks as I pull her down the hall.

  “To take a nap.”

  “My room is the other way,” she points.

  I turn us around and start toward the other direction, wasting no time. For a minute, I forget why we are here until I see a portrait of her father and mother hanging on the wall. I slow down, and she rubs herself all over me, but I push her away. “Sassa.”

  “What? Come on. Let's go.” Her hand cups my sack, rolling the orbs with the right amount of pressure.