Chapter Eight
Soren
It was hard to explain how I felt when Freya’s runic stone, then the pendant I had given her years ago drew my eyes, other than it was an otherworldly pull.
A sense of certainty I had never felt before.
And it turned out to be right when the stone clicked into place inside the pendant as if the two had been made for one another, just like I had long felt Freya and I were.
If that were not telling enough, the sensation that passed between us when the stone found its rightful place in the pendant certainly was. It felt like some kind of strange, unexplainable yet powerful, mystical energy.
At that moment, I had never wanted to bring her to my bed more.
Wanted to ravish her until she cried out in pleasure.
Yet I was a man of my word, so I forced myself to return to my chair and continued talking rather than doing what I really wanted to do.
Rather than doing what I knew would bridge the gap between us faster than anything else, because I suspected it would be intense.
While I meant to speak of lighter things, the words that passed my lips seemed made of all the magic brewing between us, because what else could I call it? Love? Yes. But magic, too. Great power born of the gods and a destiny that was ours. A path we must follow.
So, I asked what I felt needed asking the most.
“Why do you not use your seer abilities anymore, Freya?” I said. “Why do you not divine for others?”
Although clear, given the flattening of her lips and the way she took several gulps of ale, she had not expected the question, Freya was wise enough to realize I deserved to know, as our people would want to understand, too.
“I do use them still, or should I say they use me to stay connected to my sisters when I’m not with them,” she confessed.
“I imagine ’tis because of the stones.” Hesitating, she struggled to share before continuing.
“My sisters aside, I don’t use my gift anymore because the last time I did, it did not warn my mother of impending danger but instead seemed to lead her to slaughter. ”
I gently prompted her to continue when her haunted gaze lingered on the flames, as if she stared back in time at something only she could see. “How so?”
“I foresaw safe passage for her through the wilds of our homeland before our family moved to the isle.” Struggling with her emotions, she clenched her jaw for a moment before continuing.
“As you know, our Norwegian tribes tend to battle each other more than they should, and whilst she was a good fighter, she was not…” She blinked back tears and took another swig of ale.
“She was not enough, and she and her companions were slain before they could make it to a nearby village.”
“I’m so sorry, Freya,” I said softly, wrapping my fingers with hers where they rested on the table.
Although there was nothing I could say to ease her grief, I had to try.
“My mother once told me that divination can mean many things, yet everything mystics such as yourself foresee is divine. ’Tis the path the gods want us to walk so things go as they should.
She claimed Odin himself would someday reward seers for aiding in a tapestry of life much richer and more pre-destined than any of us will ever realize.
So even if it seems you steered your mother wrong, ’twas always the path she was meant to walk. ”
“Whilst wise words, you can understand how they might ring hollow for a daughter who feels responsible for her mother’s death,” she murmured, her gaze still on the flames.
“Father was never the same after that. Then weeks later, he was attacked by the bear, which I didn’t warn him of because I had shunned my gift.
So you see how I could be blamed not just for my mother’s death but my father’s downfall.
After that, he refused to allow me and my sisters to fight again and risk losing everything he cared about.
” She shook her head and vowed, “And for that I will forever steer clear of divination lest it skew everything I love once more.”
Even though she should not be faulted for either, I understood, at least for the moment, she wasn’t ready to forgive herself.
Hopefully, in time, I would be able to help her move past the weight she was determined to carry on her shoulders.
For now, however, I steered the conversation away from such sadness, intending to revisit it later, when her emotions were less raw.
Unfortunately, I sensed her sadness and frustration had gotten the better of her on a night I would have wished otherwise, and she pleaded exhaustion shortly thereafter.
“I should return to my cottage,” she began, but trailed off when I shook my head.
“Nay, ’tis not something you can do anytime soon, Freya,” I reminded.
“We were fortunate enough that we didn’t need witnesses to our consummation.
To that end, ’tis crucial you sleep in this lodge for the foreseeable future.
The cottage was only ever a place meant for you to go if you wanted time alone, but not at night when you should be in your husband’s bed. ”
Her gaze swept over the room, lingering on my bed before she looked at the doorway leading to adjoining rooms. “Are there more beds here or just the one?”
“Just the one,” I said. “The other rooms will be for our children, and beds to come once they are with us. If you would like, I’ll retire to one of those rooms whilst you change into your sleeping gown if you desire to wear one, but we will rest in the same bed.
” I shook my head. “And I will not touch you lest you want to be touched.”
“’Tis a lot to ask of you,” she said, relief in her eyes. “But, ja, I would appreciate a moment to change in privacy.”
While tempted to ask her why she feared intimacy, because I sensed she did, I refrained for now and made my way out the back rather than linger in one of the rooms. Drawing in the cool air, I tried not to envision her changing so close to me, longing for the moment I would at last feel the weight of her in my bed, even if I could not touch her tonight.
Rather, I focused on the sound of the trees brushing against each other in the wind.
The sight of the clouds rushing past a nearly full moon.
By the time I made my way back in, she was beneath my furs, seemingly sound asleep, and nothing touched my heart more.
It had seemed like an impossible dream that she might ever truly be mine, yet there she was, in my bed.
I sat again, enjoyed one last ale, and admired her, sensing she was not truly sleeping.
It turned out I was right because her breathing soon slowed, telling me she had finally drifted off.
After finishing my ale, I undressed and crawled into bed beside her, wishing I could pull her against me, but I knew better.
If I did, I might never let go. Moreover, I would want to close my lips over hers again and explore every last part of her.
Love her in ways I had long imagined. Fortunately, an incredible sense of comfort, if not peace, settled over me at her mere proximity, and I dozed off faster than I thought possible.
When I stirred awake at daybreak, she still slept soundly, only now she faced in my direction and wore a soft smile as if she, too, had found contentment being so close to me.
A contentment that kept her from rising early like she usually did in our youth.
Helpless to do anything but admire her delicate beauty for a time, I finally forced myself to rise, dress, add wood to the dying embers, and leave, when all I wanted to do was settle between her thighs.
When Sten, standing protectively outside our door, looked at me as if I shouldn’t be awake so early, given the beautiful woman in my bed, I shrugged and nodded in agreement. “What can I tell you other than that I’m a man of my word?”
Somehow, I wasn’t surprised when he remained guarding our door instead of joining me as I made my way past smiths hammering glowing iron at open-air forges and fisherman preparing their boats, down to the end of a pier to watch the sun rise.
My wolf had taken to Freya straight off, just as I had.
Breathing in the chilly, salt-ridden air, I took in the deep melons splashed across the sky, and imagined many mornings like this with her by my side.
“How did I know you would be here alone at an hour you should still be wrapped in your wife’s arms?
” came Ivar’s gruff voice when he joined me.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he gazed at the sea and shook his head.
“She has shunned you already, has she not?” He eyed me knowingly.
“How else to explain that farce you two put on last night because ’twas a farce indeed. ”
Ivar might be a brute to most, but few were more observant or wise.
“Might it not have been a desire to consummate our vows in private?” I countered. “And might she not be sound asleep at this very moment, well satisfied after a night in each other’s arms?”
“She might, but I doubt it, given the rumors about her,” Ivar grunted.
“Rumors most in these parts don’t know. They hear only the tales of her battle prowess and seer abilities.
” He gave me a pointed look. “Yet we both know she is considered cold to men. That she would not take a husband even if she had free rein to do so.”
Somehow, I wasn’t surprised Ivar knew, as he was used to looking after my welfare when it came to Freya and my never-ending desire for her. Nevertheless, it was no longer his place to say such things, and I made that clear.
“What my wife and I do together is no one’s concern but ours.” I returned his pointed look. “And you would do well to remember that, my friend.”