Chapter 25

SHAW

Everyday we grow closer, and every day my restraint wanes. I’ve pumped my cock dry while she sleeps. Looking at the swell of her hips and the dip between her legs is enough to make me come. Some nights, she stirs, like her body knows and reaches for me, but I dare not wake her.

When she offered to use our blood in the link for the chain, I was both elated and conflicted.

Should I have stopped her or kept my blood out of it?

I never thought I’d have a partner when reclaiming my seat in the Vanheim, so I am at a loss.

Are my feelings for her because I am a man starved or is she to sit beside me as an equal in the Immortal Realm?

She is so certain she understands what she feels. I haven’t stopped her since I feel it too. Vidarr was right when he said this time was different. Rasha is different from Skadi, though she doesn’t know it. She has no idea how powerful she is as she slowly learns to wield her new strengths.

We’ve practiced less with the bow, considering it frustrates her, but this morning she wears the quiver with the bow tucked inside as we follow Aslaug down to the icy river below the cabin to fish.

Her flushed face as she descends the difficult terrain makes me think of all the ways I can make her sweat.

Hiking down a mountain is ridiculous with a hard on.

I swear at myself and take a swig of the honeyed wine she insisted we bring.

“What are you doing way up there?” she asks, gazing up at me with those big blue eyes.

“Watching you,” I call, sliding on my ass a good ten feet down to where she is.

Snow and ice cave-in under my legs when I stop.

A massive piece of ice breaks from underneath, hitting the sides of the mountain on the way down.

We are almost at the river bank where I plan on making a fire while I watch her fish with Aslaug.

“Out here, we are at the border of my protection, so don’t be too complacent,” I explain and watch her survey our surroundings.

“The snow stopped yesterday, and I doubt Harald will be on the move so quickly. I don’t remember traveling through any river valleys, so Jorvik won’t come this way if he is returning home.

” Her gaze travels up and down the river.

The foamy current breaks the ice in places, sending fat sections careening down.

Pushed by sliding snow drifting off the mountain and the sheer force of our ever changing nature, the river never completely freezes over.

“There are other predators besides man,” I remind her and start climbing down the rest of the way.

“I still think I should go home before we try to find the herd. There might be people in the Beaivi Clan who would be on our side, people who would help us. Before my grandparents generation, they lived with the reindeer, never taking more than they needed. That’s how they survived the winters before the other Vikings came from the South.

” She brings up a conversation from a few nights ago.

“You trust those who didn’t try to stop Jorvik from giving you to Harald?” I choose the same line of defense I did in the first argument.

“Maybe if they see I defied Jorvik and have Skadi’s bow, they will change their minds?” Rasha makes a decent point as she climbs down the rest of the way, walking gingerly over the river bank to a sizable spot where we can all fit.

“I have lived through many cycles of politics, and they all have one thing in common.”

“Which is?” she asks over her shoulder.

“Most people will support whoever can protect and provide for them. You might have her bow, and there was a time you provided for them, but they will question your ability to protect them.”

“I am trying to protect them. I can stand up to Harald. I have been spared by the Immortal Realm by evading my own death,” she says, taking things out of her bag.

We sit in the snow while she ties large hooks to a line. Her mind is working, thinking about her options, and I hesitate at what to say. On one hand, she could stay here and lead her people; on the other, I am running out of time to complete my own penance.

She doesn’t look my way, but I hear her ask, “Would you stay with me?”

“In the Beaivi Clan?” My face tenses as she slowly nods, casting her line with Aslaug darting around the fallen trees and blocks of ice. “I am not one for groups.”

“Shaw, if you taught the women how to smith weapons, they would have skills beyond bearing children. They could be paid freely and defend themselves. They will need something besides living nomadically with the reindeer.” Rasha makes a compelling argument, standing on the riverbank with her long fishing line in the flowing water.

“We need to get them away from Harald and sadly, your brother first,” I add, and she whips around to look at me.

“Then you’d teach them?” Her excitement is hard to ignore, so I press my lips together, refusing to let a smile breach my cheeks.

“It will make a difference, even if you aren’t sold on the idea.

” The lightness in her voice makes me happy, which is something I don’t think I’ve let myself feel in exile.

To make someone else happy lifts the strangest weight off my chest.

“Walk up stream to catch the fish as they swim.” I motion for her to move higher, and she rolls her eyes at my change of topic.

Aslaug crouches over the end of a tree trunk, her tufted ears moving back and forth, and she locates a school of fish upstream.

Working as a team, Rasha takes direction from the massive lynx and moves her line until they catch a trout the length of my arm.

Every time they catch a fish, Rasha moves further up the river.

The sun’s warmth is melting snow and ice, creating tiny drops of water that drip from every tree branch and rocky ledge.

Bright rays of sunshine burst through the water, creating a kaleidoscope of colors across Rasha’s red hair and in the fog wafting up over the water.

For a while, I sit and watch her move around like an ethereal faerie.

Then her body stills, and I feel the ground rumble from a mile away. Aslaug leaps from the nearest ledge, where she’s been devouring a fish, and raises her hackles. Suddenly, she hisses at the dense forest, those deadly fangs out in defense.

“Rasha,” I call, and she walks backward, keeping her eyes on whatever is coming through the mountain.

Glancing over my head, I don’t see an eagle or Vidarr in human form, which causes me to worry.

With the axe from my belt, I get low to cross the iced over parts of the river without being spotted by our predator.

She reaches for Skadi’s bow in the quiver tied to her back and slides her body against a tree. The mountains shake, sending snow and ice crusted branches falling all around us. Tiny, white stoats and foxes run from their burrows towards the cabin without hesitation.

“What is coming?” Rasha asks when I reach her side.

“Something that is not from this world,” I whisper, noticing she already has Skadi’s bow out of the quiver.

“Are you doing this? Is this a test? You don’t have to scare me,” she mutters low as the rumblings become more methodical, like a group of deer running through the forest.

“It is not a test from me,” I retort and look to the skies again.

“Others want to prevent me from returning.” I know I have opened a line of questioning for later, but she doesn’t respond.

Trees break at the roots, falling over the evergreens, sending sharp pine needles and shards of bark flying over our heads.

Rasha runs for Aslaug, and I sprint the other way to discover what is barreling at us.

Black fur engulfs the fallen trees as the huge creature speeds toward me.

His long, narrow snout and deep red eyes are unmistakably that of the Fenrir.

Legs the size of trees and paws that could flatten a mortal in one crushing step draw closer.

The wolf beast must have been conjured to end me now that my way home is nearly in reach.

“Run, Rasha,” I yell, but she isn’t, instead she’s climbing a tree.

“Rasha!” She turns to see Fenrir, and her mouth falls open in horror.

Skidding into the riverbank, his coarse fur is covered in snow and ice.

Bits of trees and rocks fall off as he shakes like a dog and bares his many rows of pointed canines.

“What is that?” she shrieks, locking her legs around a branch to situate herself in the tree.

“He’s after me. Go!” I shout. Fenrir turns his huge head to stare at me. “Do you remember when we used to be friends?” I ask the beast. He growls so loudly that ice shatters in the river, and the rest of the water rushes down from the mountain, taking logs and rocks with it.

Running back the way the creature came, I use its path of destruction to make it easier for me to be chased. Hopefully, Rasha locks herself in the cabin until I can find my fucking brother and we send Fenrir back through the Vanheim.

Jaws snap too close to my back, and I whirl around with my axe at the ready. Aslaug tackles Fenrir’s face, her agile body wrapped around his long mouth. She claws and bites while he tries to shake her off. Taking the opportunity she provides, I move left into the thick collection of trees.

I hear her yelp and look over my shoulder to see Rasha standing underneath Fenrir’s paws as he’s trying to throw Aslaug off of his face.

She slashes her own axe, trying to reach the deeper ligaments and bones, but the wolf is too strong for her.

Rasha sees me and darts into the woods to avoid being trampled.

“I told you to go. You won’t survive a bite from him,” I snarl out of fear and grab her arm to move her behind me.

“Aslaug is keeping him busy. Do you have a plan?” She ignores my anger.

“Rasha.”

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