Stolen By The Viking (Sons 0f Sigurd Series Book 1)

by Michelle Willingham

  ‘You must leave him,’ her foster father said. ‘If you do, it is possible that you may regain all that was lost.’

  ‘And what of Alarr? He will never regain all that he lost.’ Her voice cracked, revealing her own frustration. ‘But that doesn’t matter to you, does it?’

  ‘No.’ Feann drew closer to her, his eyes hardened into stone. ‘His fate means nothing to me.’

  Breanne was beginning to realise the depths of his hatred. Once, she had believed that Feann had held affection for her, that he had thought of her as his true daughter. She had done everything to please him, trying to shape herself into the person he wanted. But now, she could no longer deny the truth.

  ‘I don’t matter to you either, do I?’ It broke her heart to realise that all these years, he had never thought much of her. He truly didn’t care that she had been sold into slavery. Her only use to him was for a marriage alliance.

  For a moment, his steel gaze seemed to relent, but he said only, ‘Think of your duty, Breanne.’

  ‘I have,’ she whispered. And duty be damned. She would no longer allow her life to be twisted as everyone else wanted. This time, she would make her own decisions and be herself, not the woman others wanted her to be. ‘I only wish I had seen you for what you are sooner.’

  With that, she walked away, tears filling up in her eyes. She crossed past familiar faces, people she had once believed were her friends. But they, too, were controlled by Feann. A true friend would have greeted her, welcomed her home. And although she had worked among them during the past few days, she realised that there would always be a distance between them. She was not a MacPherson and never would be.

  When she reached Alarr, he seemed to sense what she wanted—an escape before she released the hold on her emotions. Without asking he led her mount forward and helped her atop the saddle.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Rurik asked.

  ‘You are staying here,’ Alarr answered. ‘I am taking Breanne away so we can speak alone. We will return later.’

  She was grateful, for he seemed to understand that her feelings were hanging by a single thread. The tears and anger were so tightly intertwined, she didn’t know if she wanted to weep or rage at the world.

  ‘If you have need of protection,’ one of the guards offered, ‘we can join you.’

  ‘No.’ Alarr swung up behind her and said, ‘I can defend Breanne on my own. We won’t go far.’

  With that, he nudged the animal forward and outside the gates. She took comfort from his arms around her and let the tears fall freely. No one would see them, and no one would judge her for them. But it hurt so deeply to recognise that Feann had never loved her as a daughter.

  Alarr took the horse into a hard gallop, and the wind caused her hair to stream behind her. They rode for several minutes, until he found a small outcropping of limestone. Then he slowed the mare’s pace to a stop and dismounted, helping her down.

  Breanne dried her tears, grateful to be away from Feann and the others. Her heart ached with the sadness of loss. And through it all, Alarr had been steadfast.

  ‘You kept your word,’ she said at last. ‘Though I know you wanted to kill him.’

  His face tensed. ‘I did.’ Then he paused and added, ‘I still do.’

  Breanne couldn’t stop herself from pacing from one stone to another. Restlessness pulsed in her veins. She wanted to rage at Feann and at herself for believing that he had ever cared about her. To his credit, Alarr said nothing but let her be.

  At last, she stopped to face him. ‘I know I promised you justice. But I do not know what I can do now.’ The thought of Feann made her stomach clench. She had defended him for so long, but he had only wanted to use her.

  ‘Do you still want him to live?’ Alarr asked.

  Breanne closed her eyes, pushing back the pain. Even though she despised the king right now, it wasn’t possible to push away the years of memories. He had cared for her, and when she was a little girl, there were nights when he had comforted her after bad dreams. In spite of everything, she didn’t want him to die.

  ‘Yes, he should live,’ she answered. ‘But I don’t want to stand by and let him get away with what he did to your family. It isn’t right.’ Her cheeks were still wet from her tears, but she needed his arms around her. She went to Alarr and pressed both hands against his chest. His arms came around her, and she drew comfort from his embrace.

  ‘Then we must take away something that has value to him. Does Feann have sons?’

  ‘He does, but they are still being fostered elsewhere. They are not yet of age.’ She drew back and said, ‘I know what you are thinking, but I don’t want to harm my foster brothers. I would rather take away his power.’ She thought a moment, an idea starting to form in her mind. There was nothing that would irritate Feann more than to have a Lochlannach claim the Irish throne he was protecting.

  ‘We should go to Clonagh together,’ she suggested. ‘And...if we married, you could take possession of the land as my husband.’ It was a risk to mention it to him, for she had already agreed to travel to his homeland. Even more, she did not know if he wanted her to become his bride after all that had happened.

  Alarr was already shaking his head. ‘I cannot stay here in Éireann. I belong in Maerr. You know this.’ He traced the edge of her jaw, and her skin tightened at his touch.

  She covered his hand with her own and stared back. Did he feel the same as she did, this sense of longing? Or was it only her loneliness that made her crave a deeper connection with Alarr? She closed her eyes, forcing her attention back to the problem at hand.

  ‘I wanted Feann to grant you compensation for your losses. But silver is not enough to bring your loved ones back, is it?’

  He shook his head. His expression was stoic, devoid of emotion. She wanted to reassure him, to somehow make him see that she would find a way to grant him justice.

  ‘Feann will face the consequences for his choices,’ Alarr said. ‘I promise you that.’ The coldness in his voice unnerved her. ‘And then I will find the man who murdered Sigurd and avenge my father’s death.’

  Breanne studied him closely, and then wondered aloud, ‘Why do you think it was a man?’

  * * *

  Alarr paused, wondering what she meant by that. ‘There were no female fighters at that battle, Breanne.’

  ‘A woman does not need to swing a sword to be responsible for a man’s death.’ She squeezed his hands and prompted, ‘What of your mother? I imagine that she was not pleased about Sigurd’s infidelity. Or his bastard sons.’

  Alarr had considered this, for Hilda’s jealousy and resentment of Saorla had been no secret. But would she truly go that far? ‘I don’t know.’ But he could not deny the possibility.

  A coldness settled inside him at the thought. His mother had sent Brandt away on the morning of his wedding, claiming that there was a raid. Was that true? Or had she known something about the impending attack? She might have been trying to protect her eldest son.

  Hilda had forbidden them to carry weapons that day, which had left them unarmed in the presence of enemies. Alarr had been fortunate to have two ceremonial swords, but others had no means of defending themselves. He didn’t want to imagine that his mother had enacted such a brutal attack...but she had played a role in it, whether or not she had intended to do so.

  ‘What do you think we should do now?’

  Alarr hesitated, considering it. Breanne had given him the chance to confront Feann, and in return, she had asked him to spare her foster father’s life. But he had no intention of sparing the king from his retribution. ‘Feann stole my ability to fight. The wounds he left will always be there. I want him to suffer as I did.’ He intended to attack the king, even knowing the risk to his own life.

  Her face held a flicker of fear. ‘And what of our agreement? Do you intend to go back on your word?’ />
  ‘I will spare his life,’ Alarr answered. ‘But after all he has done, he must face the consequences.’ At the very least, he wanted to wound Feann, to make him understand how he had suffered. His anger rose hotter, and in this he would not yield.

  Her face grew troubled. ‘Anything you do will not change the past. And while I will ensure that he pays you corp-dire, that is all we can do.’

  ‘I don’t want blood money for what he did.’ He didn’t bother to hide the edge of his rage. And Breanne took a step backwards, wary of his mood. She could never understand his anger, and there was nothing he could say to change that.

  ‘Alarr, there are better ways to gain your vengeance,’ she said softly. ‘I don’t want you to endanger yourself.’

  Though he supposed she was trying to show him that she cared, it made him realise that she had no faith in his fighting skills. And why should she? He had nearly failed her once before. Though he tried to push away his resentment, he was starting to see the truth. Though he desired this woman and wanted to be with her, she deserved better. One day, she might face a threat, and if he were unable to defend her, he could never forgive himself.

  She had spoken of sailing away from her homeland, never to return. But she didn’t belong in Maerr any more than he belonged in Éireann. It was wrong to ask her to stay with him. And when she rested her cheek upon his heart and embraced him, the guilt only deepened.

  If you truly cared for her, you would let her go, his conscience warned.

  And though the very idea caused a wrenching ache inside, he knew it was the right thing to do.

  ‘Breanne, I think you should know the truth about what happened when you were taken from Feann as a slave. I owe you that much.’

  ‘Go on.’ In her green eyes, he saw compassion. She would despise him afterwards, but he could not keep it from her. Breanne deserved to know everything. And so, he started at the beginning.

  ‘I travelled to Killcobar and watched Feann for a time. I realised that I could never get into the fortress without a good reason. And when I saw you, I saw an opportunity.’ He stood and turned away from her, gathering his thoughts. ‘I bribed one of your father’s men to take you from Killcobar. I wanted him to imprison you and bring you to me. Then I planned to use you to get close to Feann.’

  ‘But Feann had already left in secret.’

  He nodded. ‘I didn’t realise it at the time.’ Which was fortunate for the king, since it would have been a simple matter to end Feann’s life, if he had caught him.

  Breanne’s expression grew clouded. ‘I never saw the soldier’s face. He blindfolded me and gagged me on the night I was taken. It was in the middle of the night, and he sold me to the traders before dawn. I don’t even know who it was.’ Her mouth pressed into a tight line when she confronted him. ‘If you paid him to take me, why didn’t you rescue me from the slavers sooner? Why would you allow them to hold me captive for so long?’

  Her accusation only deepened the burden of guilt. He knew he should have kept a closer eye upon her. ‘It took some time before I discovered your whereabouts,’ Alarr admitted. ‘I didn’t know he’d sold you. I thought he was holding you somewhere for ransom.’

  Her gaze never wavered, the resentment filling up her expression. ‘How did you find him?’

  ‘He went hunting boar with a group of men. I separated him from the others and...questioned him.’ After he’d learned of the man’s betrayal, Alarr had shown no mercy. ‘It took another day to track where the slavers had taken you.’

  Her face winced when she realised what he was implying. ‘Is he dead now?’

  Alarr gave a nod. ‘The others thought he was hurt by the boar. I made certain his injuries appeared accidental.’ He held no regret for what he’d done. Any man who would sell the king’s foster daughter into slavery deserved to die.

  Then he continued. ‘We tracked you to Áth Cliath, and I intended to outbid any man who tried to buy you. But then, you tried to escape.’ He crossed his arms and said, ‘You already know the rest.’

  For a time, she remained quiet. ‘So, you were the reason I was taken from Killcobar.’

  ‘Yes.’ He refused to deny the role he had played. ‘I don’t want you to think of me as the man who saved you. I was the man who caused your suffering.’ He remained apart from her and confessed, ‘It was my fault.’

  She didn’t move but clenched her hands together. Her expression held doubts. ‘I need time to think, Alarr.’

  He could see the uncertainty in her eyes, but he said, ‘You deserve the truth, Breanne. I cannot pretend to be a good man. I’m not.’

  ‘And you told me this, because you want me to hate you,’ she finished. ‘So you can walk away from me and it will be easier for you to end what is between us.’ Her green eyes turned stormy. ‘You don’t want me to go back to your homeland.’

  He didn’t argue with her. It was better to break the fragile bond between them and let her go. Then she could be free to love a man who would give her the life she deserved.

  ‘You should hate me,’ he agreed. ‘I paid to have you taken from your home, and I stole your innocence.’

  ‘No.’ She crossed her arms as if to ward off his words. ‘I gave you my innocence.’ A flush suffused her cheeks, and she confessed, ‘I am glad it was you.’

  He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he answered, ‘You were trying to save Feann’s life. I had no right to claim you.’

  Her anger rose up higher, her face scarlet with anger. ‘Do you truly believe that was the reason? Do you deny that there are feelings between us?’

  Her words stopped him cold, for he hadn’t wanted to believe it. He didn’t want ties that bound him to this life. He had sailed this far for vengeance, fully intending to sacrifice himself. As a scarred, wounded man, he had no value as a warrior.

  But Breanne was undermining his plans. When he looked upon her face, he saw a woman who captivated him. She had woven her way into his life without him realising it. And when he made love to her, she made him feel as if there was nowhere else he’d rather be, save in her arms. He craved her, and it was killing him to be apart from her at night.

  Yet he knew he could not give her the life she needed. He did care about her, and for that reason, it was best to let her go.

  ‘We don’t belong together,’ he answered. ‘Once I have settled the matter of my father’s death, I will return to Maerr alone.’

  Tears rose up in her eyes, and he felt like an utter bastard for hurting her. ‘So you’ll just avenge yourself against my foster father and leave me behind.’

  He avoided answering her, but admitted, ‘I intend to question him first. Feann claims that he did not kill Sigurd. I need to know who did. Whether it was Wilfrid or someone else.’

  She took a breath, shielding her emotions. ‘And once you have your answers, you will go.’

  ‘If I survive the fight, yes.’

  She waited for a time, choosing her words carefully. ‘I think you’re afraid to stay. You always planned to end your life while bringing Feann down. You would rather die than face a life where you are not the man you once were.’ She shook her head in disbelief. ‘But you are so much more. Your wounds made you into the man I care about.’

  Her words were a sharp blade, cutting into his heart. She was right, that he had never intended to survive the fight against Feann. Nor had he intended to intertwine his days with Breanne. For the first time in years, he found that he had someone to live for—and yet, he didn’t feel that he had earned that right.

  Even so, he wanted her. From the moment he awakened with her beside him, to the moment he lay down to sleep, she filled the emptiness inside him. But if he admitted his feelings, it weakened him. He had sailed across the sea for vengeance—not to fall in love and allow Feann to escape with no consequences. He had no right to seek his own happiness, especially when
he had not achieved his goal of punishing Feann.

  Breanne moved in closer, regarding him. She rested her hands upon his heart, and the touch of her fingers blazed through him. ‘Look into my eyes and tell me you want to leave. That you don’t care about me.’

  He knew she wanted a life he couldn’t give to her, but he took her hands in his. ‘I cannot stay here, Breanne.’

  She released his hands, and he could see her trying to regain her composure. ‘Then I don’t have a choice any more.’ Her voice grew softer, more vulnerable. ‘I’m not going to stand aside and let others decide my fate.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  Her green eyes were filled with tears, but she said, ‘I’m going to return to my mother. And then I won’t have to watch you fight the only father I’ve ever known.’

  Chapter Ten

  They did not dine with Feann that night, as Rurik did, but instead took food to share in Alarr’s shelter. Rurik had wisely left them alone, and Breanne had been careful to slip into the shelter unnoticed. Her heart was raw with unspoken pain. A part of her had hoped that Alarr would argue with her and try to stop her from leaving. But he had said nothing at all.

  Now, more than ever, it was clear that his vengeance meant more than his feelings for her. And there was nothing she could do to change his mind.

  ‘When will you go?’ he asked.

  ‘At dawn. I will take my mother’s guards back with me.’ She now understood why Treasa had insisted that the men remain with her. It gave her a means of protection on the journey back to Dún Bolg.

  ‘Good.’ Alarr’s tone was dull, devoid of emotion. ‘It’s better this way, Breanne. I will fight Feann on the morrow, after you’re gone. He consented to the match.’

  His statement took her by surprise. ‘Alarr, why would Feann agree to this? What could he hope to gain?’ She knew his guards could cut Alarr down in moments, without warning. There was no reason for her foster father to seek one-on-one combat.