Svala was about to answer when the ship listed. Sean grabbed the railing on either side of her to keep her safe. Naturally, there was no fear in her eyes as they lifted to his. The ocean and what it was capable of didn’t frighten her in the least. But something did. Something that was there for a flicker of a moment before it vanished.
Yet Sean knew.
Somehow he got it.
He frightened her.
But why?
“I will catch one, just give me a chance,” came a young voice. “You will see.”
Sean didn’t move as Svala spun and the fog melted away, giving way to bright sunshine and deep blue seas. His front to her back, Sean’s eyes widened on the jagged white-tipped mountains in the distance, the endless docks and Viking ships. A massive wooden wall stood between the shore and the mountains, protecting a huge community of houses with roof’s that sloped nearly to the ground.
This was it.
This was where they had all disappeared to. This is where they had made their life.
Megan, Amber, Veronica, Cybil, and Samantha. Those he had cared about most.
“You do not believe me,” the young voice declared, snagging Sean’s attention.
A little girl, maybe seven or eight, stood in a familiar boat opposite two boys. Well, men really. Sean narrowed his eyes on the girl with her wild blond curls and defiant blue eyes. “That’s you?” he whispered, eying the boat she stood in. The one he and Megan had built. “We’re in your memories now, aren’t we?”
“Yes,” she whispered, the sound barely audible. “This was the day I caught my first fish.”
Sean couldn’t help but smile. “You look like you’re ready to spear your shipmates rather than fish. Who are they?”
“My brother Bjorn’s the younger one,” she said as if he should have known. “The older one is Heidrek.”
“Ah, Bjorn.” He’d recently met the huge, brooding Viking and hadn’t really connected with him. But then, like Svala, he had anger issues.
“And Heidrek,” he added, eying the tall blond he’d so recently seen in Cybil’s photograph. So that was her guy. The current Viking King.
He better be treating her well.
Svala cocked her head as though she sensed something. “Heidrek is as much my brother as Bjorn.” Her eyes narrowed on Sean over her shoulder. “Do you have an issue with him?”
Sean almost said no but stopped short. He didn’t want to lie. “Not really. I was close with Cybil and wanted to make sure she ended up with someone…worthy of her. She deserves it.”
Svala kept eying him. “Do you desire her?”
“No,” he said. “Though I thought I did at first.”
Her eyes widened. “You desire many women in my life, do you not?”
“Seems that way.” He shook his head, not moving away. “But I’m starting to wonder if it’s not all leading me in a certain direction.”
“What direction.” Her eyes narrowed. “Samantha then?” A less than impressed look crossed her face. “Because she’s mated with my brother now.”
“No, not Samantha.” He chuckled. “She’s a little too wild for me.”
Svala kept eying him and with good reason. She was far wilder than Sam. Yet he had her wondering, and for now, he liked that. She was used to thinking she had everything all figured out and it was high time she didn’t. He might not be half-dragon, but he wasn’t without wit. If he truly wanted Svala to open up and trust him, to tell him everything about their connection, he needed to take control. Or at least let her think as much.
He conveniently set aside how much he wanted to pull her closer.
That he wanted to know more about her.
When the hell had he gotten to this point with her of all people? But he supposed it didn’t matter because he had. And truthfully he shouldn’t be that surprised all things considered.
“I have this,” little Svala declared when Bjorn and Heidrek shook their heads, unconvinced.
“You do not believe me, do you?” she asked. Tears welled in her eyes as her mouth screwed into a tight little ball. “Nobody does.”
“I think you might be right, little sister,” Bjorn said woefully, his eyes going to Heidrek. “Nobody does believe her, do they?”
Heidrek shook his head and shrugged before his sad eyes went to Svala. “I do not think so, Cousin.”
“Well, I will prove all of you wrong.” Her face reddened, and she stood up straighter before her eyes turned catlike and she flung out her arms. Heidrek and Bjorn’s eyes widened as they fell overboard.
Defiant, Svala cast her net and waited with her spear. Seconds later she thrust and roared with victory as she held up her fish. Meanwhile, Bjorn and Heidrek acted properly doomed as they frowned and swam for shore.
“I spent the entire day out on the water,” Svala said with pride. “By the time I made shore that eve the boat was nearly sinking beneath the weight of my fish.”
Sean could only imagine. Given the right motivation, he imagined Svala could catch every fish in the ocean with one mighty swipe of her net.
He was about to mention the little Viking boat before fog swirled around them and revealed another setting altogether. Svala was older. Maybe fourteen or fifteen. She sat in the same boat opposite an intense looking man as they fished. With black hair, a beard and piercing cobalt blue eyes, he was an older version of Bjorn.
It could only be Naðr Véurr. The Viking King. Megan’s husband. Svala’s father.
A man Sean thought for sure he would never lay eyes on.
When Svala tensed, Sean put a hand over hers and came closer. To let her know she had a wall of support. It couldn’t be easy to see a memory of her father when he currently lay on his deathbed.
“You have taken good care of this boat, Daughter,” Naðr said with pride. “It has made your mother happy that you have loved it so well.”
Had she then? Sean couldn’t deny that he found pleasure in the knowledge. That she had cared as much about the boat as he and Megan had when they built it.
“I am glad mother is happy.” Svala nodded at her father. “It is a strong boat. Made by a strong woman.”
“And a strong man,” her father added.
Svala shrugged, but Sean didn’t miss the possessive hand she wrapped over the edge. “Maybe.”
“Do you still sit out here by yourself and talk to him, Daughter?”
Svala frowned and kept her eyes on the water. “Who?”
“You know who.” A soft smile came to Naðr’s lips. “He who helped build this boat.”
Sean stilled. What was he talking about?
“I do not know what you mean,” Svala said, a familiar defiance in her eyes.
“Yes you do,” the King said, his voice gentle. “You are desired by many, yet you live in a fantasy world where you do not have to deal with finding a future husband. You search out a man you find favor with simply because your mother spoke so highly of him.”
“I am available to men,” Svala argued. “This is simply where I spend time when I’m not so busy…being available.”
Naðr eyed her for a long moment before his lips curled into a smile. “Good. Now that I’ve had this talk with you, might I say,” he leaned closer, “I hear he is a good, kind man with a noble heart, and I am all for you talking to Sean though he cannot hear you.” He leaned even closer and winked. “Because it always seems in these changing times that those we think cannot hear us really can.”
Present-day Svala remained so still as the fog took the memory away, Sean knew for certain she was mortified he’d seen that. So he rested his hand on her shoulder, fully prepared for her to whip around and attack one way or another. But she didn’t.
Instead, she turned slowly and met his eyes. Sean kept his face expressionless at what he saw. The tears still wet in her eyes. The streaks from those that had already slid down her cheeks. He wanted to wipe them away, to fix the heartache she suffered from seeing her father again, but knew she would not app
reciate it.
Svala was her own woman and clearly had been for a long time. Not only that, she was Viking. And that meant something. He had learned a lot over the past few years about her culture. More than that, he was gaining a better understanding of Svala herself as all this unfolded.
As her memories started to paint a picture.
What he hadn’t fully expected, however, was that he was part of that picture.
He had always sort of wondered about them based on his own secrets, but his doubts had grown the longer he knew her. Mainly because he wasn’t crazy about how she treated people.
While he would love to learn more about his part in her life, he was finally seeing Svala for the first time. The real her. And he didn’t want to screw it up. So he cupped her cheeks and narrowed his eyes. “Things might be rough right now, but you’ll always have that. You’ll always have the close relationship you shared with your father, Svala.” Then he lightened it up a bit with a grin. “And who knew you were such a good fisherman?”
Her lips wobbled before they firmed then turned down. “You have learned too much. I am vulnerable to you now.”
“No,” he started to say but the boat hit shore and they lurched.
Seconds later a mighty roar rang out and the fog once again cleared. Sean felt Svala’s rage and denial as her eyes swung toward shore.
“Oh, Odin above, no,” she whispered. “Why am I here?”
Sean tried to pull her close but found his arms empty and his knees submerged in icy water as Svala staggered forward onto the shore. He rushed after her and grabbed her as she tried to pull free daggers but couldn’t.
Not in a memory.
Not at all it seemed, because they had vanished.
“But this isn’t my memory,” she roared in response to his thoughts.
He shook his head and pulled her back against him as hundreds battled in front of them. Television did nothing to prepare him for what a Viking battle actually looked like. How ferocious and brutal every single moment was. Faces were filled with anguish, anger, ruthlessness, and so much more. He would never have thought so many emotions would be on people’s faces as they fought.
Everything that existed inside them at their rawest moments.
“Heidrek,” Svala cried as her cousin rushed past, trying to draw the warriors away. Her eyes widened as he cut his own arm and stumbled on. He was leaving a blood trail. Showing his enemy how weak he was becoming. Giving his people a chance to flee, to save themselves.
“Heidrek,” Bjorn roared, rushing after him, striking down men as they got too close…as Heidrek fell to his knees.
There were too many men. Everywhere. Sean scanned their surroundings. “Did they know there would be this many?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she screamed in fury, caught up in emotion.
Sean scanned the area again, the infamous raid that killed two of Svala’s family members and caused so much heartache for her people. Women and men alike fell, but he couldn’t tell them apart.
Yet one man stood out because he was calm, unbloodied and not fighting. Sean had learned a long time ago how to read lips. Those twisted, violent times when his father beat on and yelled at his mother. He’d cover his ears but still wanted to know what she might say. If she was leaving, would she try to tell him where she was going?
Reading lips now wasn’t all that different.
“Where is she?” the enemy warrior said, scanning the carnage. “I see one dragon female killed but where is the one I wanted? Where is the King’s youngest girl?”
Svala continued to struggle as the memory swirled away and they once again stood on his boat.
“Svala.” He spun her and pulled her against him. “It’s gone. It’s done.”
“Why was I there?” she half sobbed, half cried before she shoved him in the chest. “Why?”
“Because I think you were supposed to understand something.” He pulled her against him again to stop her flailing arms. For good measure, he protected his groin area the best he could too. “Why you might not have been allowed on that raid.”
She stilled and mumbled against his chest, “What do you mean?”
He was about to respond when a quiet sob filled the air.
“That sounds like me,” Svala whispered as he pulled away, leaned over the edge of the boat and eyed their surroundings.
Shit.
“Svala.” He hung his head, truly hurt before his eyes swung to hers. “Why’d you do it?”
Chapter Eight
SVALA FELT THE pain of setting fire to Sean and her mother’s boat like it had happened minutes ago rather than years. The anger then the panic. When it started to burn, she grabbed an oar and began splashing water over it. Sobbing, angry, she swiped the water viciously. Wood sizzled and smoke billowed.
By the time the fire was out nearly a quarter of it was burned and it was barely seaworthy.
Svala’s younger self fell to her knees, rested her cheek on the edge and continued sobbing. “I am sorry to burn this, Sean….I am…” Then she grew angry and slammed her hand down on it. “I should have gone. I should have sailed this and been there for them.”
“Daughter,” came a soft murmur. “Burning this boat is not going to undo the loss we have suffered. It will not bring them back.”
Her mother stood behind her.
Her father, not far off.
“It is an offering to the gods.” Svala frowned, wiped away her tears and stood, her shoulders back as she eyed the sky. “Might they see my sacrifice and take this boat that has already traveled through time and make it do so again. Might they use its smoke to turn back time and allow me to be there to save my kin.”
Before her parents could respond, she shook her head sharply. “But I could not offer the gods as much as I should have.” She hung her head. “I could not let it burn entirely.”
Megan rested a compassionate hand on her shoulder. “Why would you think burning it would allow you to travel back to the battle?”
“Because I dreamt of it in smoke…fog…it felt like it was taking me toward the battle. Then I dreamt of multi-colored lights through fog and a loud sound amongst the waves.” Her eyes went to her mother. “The gods coming down from Asgard to help, yes? To change the fate of the battle?”
Now that she looked back on things, it almost sounded like she was talking about Sean’s fishing boat with its Christmas lights and foghorn. Had she somehow dreamt about this moment years ago? About this mysterious jaunt through time they were taking?
“Svala,” Sean murmured in her ear. “Is it me or is your father staring directly at us?”
Svala’s eyes went to Naðr, and her inner dragon flared.
He was looking at them.
From within the memory.
“He sees you,” she whispered. “He sees us.”
“How is that possible?”
She narrowed her eyes and shook her head as fog curled over the shore and took the memory away. “Dragons are capable of many things when it comes to their kin. Especially their offspring.”
“So…your father knew we would end up…here? Part of whatever Grant’s putting us through?”
Svala turned at the stunted tone of his voice. His hair was tousled, and his eyes shadowed. Seeing her memories had been as rough on him as they had been on her.
“Yes, it seems my father might have seen us via magic.” She pondered the possibilities of that. If Naðr had actually seen Sean, there was a very good chance he recognized him as her mate. Then he would have talked to her mother about it…shown her his vision.
Which meant Megan would have known Sean was her mate years ago.
“I need to tell you something, Svala,” Sean said softly as the fog closed in on them and the deck vanished. “Something I heard at the battle.”
She frowned, alarmed by the troubled look on his face. “What?”
He was about to speak when a loud voice called out, “Where’d the captain go? He better get up here!�
�
Suddenly the boat listed, the fog vanished, and they were once again standing in the narrow hallway.
“Cap, you still down there?” Nick yelled down the stairs. “Seas are gettin’ rough. Gonna need ya up here soon.”
“Coming,” Sean called out before he cupped the side of her neck. “We’ll talk later, okay?”
“Of course.” Svala nodded. “You must see to your ship first.”
Sean nodded then started up the hallway. When she followed, he stopped and shook his head. “I need you to stay down here, Svala.” His eyes met hers. “Please.”
She almost defied him but thought better of it. If that was what he wanted, she would respect his wishes. He deserved as much. So she nodded again. “All right, Sean.”
“Yeah, you mean it?”
Svala kept nodding. “I do. I will not let your men see me.”
He eyed her for another hesitant moment before he pointed down the hall, said, “Stay in the room at the end,” then headed up.
Arms crossed over her chest, she eyed the room as the boat rocked. It didn’t look half as exciting as what was likely going on above deck. At least not without him in it. Svala tapped her foot and contemplated. She might have implied she would stay down here, but she had very clearly said, “I will not let your men see me.”
That meant if she was stealthy, she could watch him then return before he was the wiser. So she snuck up the back way and found a hidden alcove behind the helm that gave her an excellent view of everything. Men yelled over the wind as nets were pulled in, full of an admirable amount of fish.
Svala smiled at the look in Sean’s eyes. He might be concerned about the weather, but there was no missing his sense of satisfaction. A feeling of triumph she well understood. She wanted to be down there with him, sharing that moment, feeling his rush of excitement.
Unfortunately, doing as much would break his trust.
Or at least make him aware that she’d already done such a thing.
Svala frowned as her conscience started to bother her. Hopefully, there would be plenty of time in the future to watch him fish. But would there be a future if he discovered she had not kept her word?
Her eyes widened as his men started icing down the fish and he headed upstairs toward the helm. Loki’s balls, she should have already gone the other way. Too late now. Svala ducked down and wrapped her fur tighter against the snow and wind. From this angle, she could see him through the window. He gestured at the boat alongside them then spoke into a hand-held radio that relayed his message to the other ship and his own crewmates.
A Viking Holiday: The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors' Kin Page 6
