Chapter Twenty-One
Skadi couldn’t quite believe what she’d done. Not only had she lain with the man who had killed her husband, but she’d done so willingly…
No…worse than that—she had ravished him!
Dragged him from the hall and made love to him as if they were young lovers sneaking away from the sight of their parents.
Fast, desperate and passionate…but also so exciting and satisfying.
The slow build of her interest in him had suddenly boiled over and she’d been unable to deny herself.
Which was why she was now sprawled half-naked on top of a man ten years her junior.
This was not the behaviour of an intelligent queen, or even a sensible woman. Two aspects of herself she’d tried for so long to perfect.
Her heart was still beating wildly from the after-effects of her shattering climax.
She bit her bottom lip to stop herself from groaning at the delicious memory.
Even on her better nights with Heimdall she’d never felt such all-consuming and blinding pleasure.
The desire had overwhelmed her so quickly that she’d felt as if her body would burn away to ash if she didn’t have him inside of her at that precise moment.
His words… Freyja save her, his words had lit up her heart like a beacon!
‘Before, I craved only power… But now…all I want is you…and without you, I would be powerless.’ Those words had been a soothing salve on an aching wound within her she hadn’t realised was there.
A desperate need to be desired and—dare she admit it—loved.
He had not confessed to loving her, but it had felt close enough.
Especially to a woman who’d been starved of affection for years.
Not only did he understand the true value of power—to protect and nurture those around you—but he viewed Skadi and, most importantly, Astra, as his family.
Astra! Would she be wondering where she was?
The dancing was always a joyous and chaotic time in the crafters’ hall, it was why she had dived out with Agnar when she had. It was one of the few opportunities where she might not be missed. But…she had to go back.
Agnar’s chest rose and fell beneath her head, the rain was still pouring in heavy sheets outside the doorway, which was wide open, and she winced that anyone could have seen what they were doing if they’d strayed far enough away from the hall and into the village.
The worst of the storm had passed and she sat up and fumbled with the shift and apron dress that had become a tangle of fabric around her hips.
Without even the lightning to help her see it was difficult and she huffed bad temperedly when she caught herself on the pin of her turtle brooch, already regretting her hasty actions.
Would she always be a fool, desperately hoping for love?
Agnar’s rough hand gently smoothed up the shoulder of her shift as she tried to retie the neckline.
The skin of his calloused hand against the softness of her skin made her body tingle with excitement and she hurried to return her clothing back to normal before she was tempted to reach for him again.
Now that she knew the incredible pleasure she could experience with Agnar, she couldn’t fathom how she was ever going to keep her hands off him.
Do I have to…keep my hands off him?
The answer was, no, they were married, but in the back of her mind she was still afraid of making the wrong choice. Her daughter’s life depended on her. She couldn’t risk her daughter’s safety on a man she barely knew…who happened to say and do the right things to make her lusty.
She’d done that once before, with disastrous consequences.
Getting to her feet, she brushed down her skirts, conscious of his seed still wet between her thighs.
She was grateful that there was only light from a half-moon to see by when Agnar lifted his hips to pull up his trousers.
Odin’s teeth! She’d mounted the man before he’d even fully undressed, like some wanton beast!
Hot flames danced up the sides of her face and neck and she swallowed nervously, looking around for something to cover her from the rain on the way back to the hall.
She grabbed one of the fleeces from the floor and held it over her head. ‘I will go back first.’
‘No,’ rumbled Agnar’s voice from the darkness. ‘We go together.’
Skadi rolled her eyes, but she didn’t wish to argue any further. She ran out into the pouring rain, the fleece her only shield, and the heavy splashes of Agnar’s boots following close behind.
The hall doors had been closed against the storm, but the smaller door used for winter access had been left open with a water barrel. She hurried towards the amber light and chaotic revelry of the hall within, as if it would somehow shed light on her own fears and burn them away.
As they entered the hall people barely noticed their return and she was quick to throw aside the damp fleece on a nearby bench.
She breathed a sigh of relief, glad that no one seemed to have noticed their arrival, and glanced towards Agnar, who looked decidedly less pleased, his long hair messy and his tunic wet from the heavy rain.
‘Why didn’t you use a fleece to cover yourself?’
Agnar tilted his head, his green eyes piercing her soul. ‘Are you ashamed of what we did?’
She almost choked on her outrage and quickly turned away from him, flexing her shoulders and neck absently, noting the sudden tension that had returned.
But she was too embarrassed to answer him, because she had behaved wantonly and should be ashamed of herself.
To her relief, Astra came bouncing up to her a short time later with Brenna at her side.
‘Where were you, Moma?’ Astra demanded, her braids a mess from all the dancing and half-unravelled. That child lost ribbons everywhere she went!
She laughed and plucked up the rat tail of a braid on her left side. ‘What have you been doing? Crawling through a thorn bush?’
Astra’s eyes narrowed and her lips pinched into a pout. ‘It was my favourite dance and I couldn’t find you!’
‘I only went outside for a moment.’ Skadi glanced at Brenna, who gave an awkward shrug, making it clear she’d known where Skadi had gone and with whom.
Astra was still not impressed and she scowled.
‘You were gone for the entire dance and most of the following one!’ Astra’s eyes began to water and her daughter rubbed at them with a fist obviously worn out from all the travel and excitement.
‘And… I didn’t know where you were. You need to tell me when you leave! At least Pappa always said goodbye!’
Guilt and shame washed through her in an icy torrent and she leaned down to cup her daughter’s face. ‘I would never leave you without telling you. I only stepped out for a moment…to use the latrine.’ She squirmed a little at the lie, she very rarely lied to Astra.
Brenna placed a hand on Astra’s shoulder and said kindly, ‘I think Astra is a little tired.’
Astra was quick to make a furious denial and Skadi grabbed her hand. ‘Let us ask the musicians to play your song once more and then we will go to bed. How about that?’
Astra grumbled a little and was able to negotiate two extra songs of her choosing.
* * *
Later that night after everyone had gone to bed, Skadi lay next to a sleeping Astra and stared up at the rafters high above.
Their bed was in a small partitioned area of the hall that was usually used by Gertrud as her personal chamber.
After seeing Astra’s obvious upset and exhaustion, Agnar had been quick to tell her to sleep with Astra there and that he would find a bench to sleep on with the rest of his men instead.
It was a kind gesture and she began to think of everything that had transpired with Agnar.
Can I trust him?
Can I trust myself?
Did he really see Astra and herself as his family now? A girl that was not even his own by blood… Or, was he manipulating her, just like Heimdall and Sven had done? She’d been a fool so many times she sometimes wondered if she deserved her crown.
If he did want a family of his own…had she given him false hope by making love to him? How long would it take for him to be disappointed by the lack of his own child…his own son and heir?
Heimdall had more than once muttered about the bad luck of only having a daughter.
That’s what had turned Skadi further against him over the years, because her father had never treated her as such and she couldn’t understand why Heimdall would…
Had he not viewed her as a queen in her own right? Probably not.
Did Agnar? Probably not… Despite his promises and sweet words, could she ever trust anyone but herself?
No, because a queen couldn’t afford to take the risk. It wasn’t just Astra who depended on her, but hundreds of Thrudheim citizens—their families and children. Even her dead ancestors relied on her to make the right choices and continue the unbroken line of Kings.
And yet… How much easier would all of it be if she had someone reliable and powerful at her side?
His speech had affected her deeply, she understood him now and was hopeful for the future. If he truly viewed Astra as part of his family, then she would gladly accept him as her husband, because the truth was, she didn’t have anyone else to support her.
But was she once again behaving like a lusty, stupid fool? Letting her desperate desire to be loved control her? Perhaps he was lying and trying to fool her into trusting him, but he’d also sounded more sincere than Heimdall ever had.
His hate for Sven, his need for revenge, the pain and suffering of his mother, it had all been heartfelt and genuine.
He’d also not judged his own mother for what she had done to save him and that had said a lot about his character—considering she’d known many men cast aside women for lowering their morals, without once considering why.
The tavern girls were a perfect example and she’d always done everything she could to support and help them without judgement.
But could she trust him with Astra’s life?
No. It would take more than promises and sweet words to trust him with her most precious possession, because without Astra she had nothing.
Her thoughts and arguments were constantly spiralling in her mind, never seeming to go anywhere, like a serpent eating its tail.
Eventually, exhausted and wrung out by her endless doubts, she decided that it had just been a long time since she’d found pleasure with a man…
Perhaps it was simply an itch she needed to scratch?