Viking Warrior Rising

by Asa Maria Bradley

  But thinking about administrative duties annoyed him. He’d rather go see Naya. He forced down those thoughts before the berserker woke up. This newly alert warrior spirit he’d experienced by Naya’s bed might be able to wrestle complete control of Leif’s body.

  Suddenly a dull nausea rose in his gut. He heard heavy boots run past his office door, followed by lighter steps. Leif flung open the door and saw Harald and Irja disappearing down the hallway. Harald had something in his arms. Leif’s gut clenched and the nausea increased. He followed.

  “Put her in the bathroom first so I can wash her off,” Irja said.

  Harald took the stairs two steps at a time.

  Leif’s berserker jumped to attention. “What’s going on?” Leif roared as he followed them into Naya’s bedroom.

  Harald turned. Naya lay limp in his arms.

  “She had some kind of episode,” Irja said. “I think she’s okay. She just ate too much too fast. Her body can’t handle solid foods yet.”

  “Fucking waste of a great sandwich,” Harald muttered.

  Leif felt a momentary stab of guilt, but it disappeared when he saw the paleness of Naya’s face. The nausea in his stomach gave way to fright. What he felt was connected to her. Naya was upset and afraid. He stepped closer to Harald. “I’ll take it from here.”

  “I got her,” Harald said.

  Leif’s berserker jumped to attention. Another male was not going to undress Naya. “Get out,” he growled and pulled the slight body into his arms.

  Harald stared at him, mouth wide open.

  Irja wedged between them. “Actually, I’ve got her.” Carefully edging Naya’s body out of Leif’s grip, she carried her into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind them.

  Harald’s face flushed. “Is there a problem, min kung?”

  Leif ignored the question. “What happened?”

  “Fuck if I know. I went looking for the thief who ate my sandwich when I heard a commotion in the lab.” He paused.

  Leif tried not to punch him to get him to continue.

  Harald caught sight of Leif’s face and raised his brows. “Naya had fallen down. Irja and I tried to help, but she fought like a wildcat. She slipped and hit her head.”

  Leif rubbed the back of his neck. He wanted to go to her. He needed to make sure she was okay. The serpent tattoo on his bicep throbbed. He scratched it.

  “What are you not telling me?” Harald’s voice rumbled low.

  “Nothing.” Leif glanced away.

  “So, tell me what she is,” Harald insisted. “No normal human defeats four wolverines.”

  “I don’t know. Her blood reacts differently than other mortals’, or she wouldn’t have been able to purge the poison, but that’s all we know.”

  His marshal took a step forward. “Were you going out to see her that night in the alley?”

  Leif frowned. “No, I’d never met her before.”

  Harald quirked an eyebrow. “Never?”

  “I swear to our mother Freya that before the fight in the alley, I’d never seen Naya.” He raked a hand through his hair. Harald’s questions would lead to things he didn’t want to think about or even ask himself.

  “Do you not find it curious that a girl you have never met all of a sudden saves you from four of Loki’s wolverines? Creatures who managed to drug you? And then she jumps into our car?”

  Leif clenched his jaw. “You said she fought with someone.”

  “That could have been staged too.”

  Leif shook his head. “She’s not staging anything.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  Leif met Harald’s gaze straight on. “I’m not, but I owe her my life, and so she has earned my trust.”

  “You are very trusting, my king. Too trusting.”

  “Watch what you’re saying.” He took a step toward Harald.

  He responded with one of his own. “Are you speaking as my friend or as my king?”

  “Whichever will make you shut up.”

  The berserker roared. Fight.

  Harald opened his mouth, but then closed it again. Anger flickered in his eyes, and something else. Hurt.

  Leif’s stomach clenched. He’d never come to blows with his best friend, but his warrior spirit itched for a fight and he didn’t know if he could rein it in. He breathed deeply through his nose, nostrils flaring.

  Without another word, Harald shook his head. Looking straight ahead, he walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  The berserker urged Leif to pursue the fight. He fisted his hands, struggling to remain in control.

  Irja returned from the bathroom. She had Naya wrapped up in an oversize towel. He reached for her, but the Valkyrie shook her head. After putting Naya to bed, tucking the comforter around her, she watched Leif for a long while. “You will have to tell him eventually.”

  Leif avoided her gaze and instead studied the unconscious woman in the bed. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, distracted. Naya was too pale.

  “Harald is your stallare. He can’t do his job effectively if he has to worry about you becoming unhinged, losing control of your berserker.”

  His head jerked up. She knew about the serpent’s tail showing up, but did Irja also know how restless his warrior spirit had been even before he met Naya? His nostrils flared again.

  Irja tilted her head. “Harald knows you very well. He’s worried about you.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” He knew he was going to have to tell Harald eventually, but he needed to control this strong attraction he had to Naya before he could deal with questions from his stallare. “How is she?” he asked instead.

  The tall woman watched him for a few heartbeats more before she answered. “I checked for a concussion, but she’s fine.”

  “What happened?” Leif wanted to touch Naya. The need to feel her skin against his scared him. He forced himself to take a step back.

  “I don’t know. I found her in the lab. She was distraught and then became ill.”

  “That sounds like more than just a reaction to solid food.”

  Irja nodded. “Something upset her.”

  He lowered his voice. “I felt her anger and something else, maybe betrayal, when I caught up with you.”

  The Valkyrie looked surprised. “Your berserker connects with her emotions? I didn’t realize the bond was that strong already.”

  “Me either,” Leif said through clenched teeth.

  “You are going to have to tell Harald, whether you like it or not.”

  “I will,” he grumbled. “I just need a little more time.”

  “Do it now, before that macho posturing goes any further and you cause permanent damage to your friendship.” Irja’s firm voice had a bitter edge.

  Surprised, Leif stared at her. He’d never heard that tone from her. She always treated him with reverence.

  Lowering her eyes, she bowed her head. “I’m sorry, my king, but these are bad times. We cannot afford a rift between you and your stallare.”

  Leif stepped closer to the Valkyrie.

  She looked up, fear clouding her eyes.

  He grasped her chin gently and touched his forehead to hers in the ancient custom of a king honoring a trusted advisor. “Never be afraid to tell me your opinion, Irja. Your advice is always welcomed.” He released her. “I will speak to Harald.”

  Irja nodded.

  “Please stay with her. She may still be afraid when she wakes up.” He turned to leave the room.

  “I will watch over your queen.”

  Irja’s quiet voice tripped him, but he recovered and left the room without falling flat on his face. Once the door closed, he sagged against it. Fuck.

  When they completed the bond, Naya would be queen of his people. A non-Valkyrie ruling ancient Nordic warriors. That would not sit well with them—or with the gods. There was nothing he could do about that now. And to gauge how his people might react to their new queen, he might as well start
by breaking the news to his second-in-command and best friend.

  * * *

  He found his marshal at the training center. Harald’s massive pectorals glistened with sweat as he went through the paces, quick-stepping forward while thrusting with a wide double-edged sword. When he saw Leif, he straightened up, expanding his chest as he quickly dipped his head. “Have you come to fight me, my king?”

  Leif’s inner warrior relished the challenge, but he ignored it and forced it to calm down. “Cut the crap. I’ve come to talk.”

  Harald shot him a sour look but put away his sword and shield. He grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from his brow and shoulders. “I need something to drink.”

  The two walked into the house and to the kitchen in silence. Leif sat at the table, where the remains of Harald’s giant sandwich still sat. Harald pulled two pilsners from the fridge. Popping off the caps, he handed one to Leif.

  Leif raised the bottle. “Skål.” He took a long swallow.

  Harald pulled from his own beer and sat down at the table, seemingly patient to wait until Leif spoke again.

  “There’s something I haven’t told you.”

  “No shit.” Harald took another drink.

  Leif glared at him.

  The thickhead just quirked an eyebrow and raised the bottle to his lips. It had always been hard to intimidate his battle brother.

  “This is difficult. Stop busting my balls.”

  Harald nodded.

  “I have never met Naya before.” Leif held up a hand when he saw that Harald was about to interrupt. “The alley was the first time I saw her, but I know we can trust her.”

  “How, my king?”

  Leif studied his stallare for a long time. Their friendship might not survive what he was about to say. Harald’s loyalty would be split between kinship with a battle brother and his duty to the Wise One. Finally he sighed. “You’ve already suspected that my berserker is unusually strong these days.”

  Harald nodded. “You’re the king. Your berserker has always been stronger than any of the warriors’. You’re formidable in a fight. That’s one of the reasons your troop follows you without question.”

  Leif startled. He knew his inner warrior seemed fiercer than others, but he’d thought it was because of his lack of control. “I thought they obeyed me because Odin chose me as leader.”

  His stallare took a long swallow from the bottle. “They do as you say because they trust you. They know you have their backs.”

  “Good to know,” Leif said. He would think about Harald’s words later. He took a swig from his beer. “I’m having trouble controlling my warrior spirit.”

  Harald’s face clouded over. “How bad is it?”

  Leif faced his friend. “So far I can handle it.”

  “Through your evening walks to the nightclubs.” Harald made it a statement.

  Leif nodded.

  “It’s a dangerous gamble. A hard balance to maintain.”

  He appreciated his stallare’s understanding, but a king who couldn’t control his warrior was shameful. “There’s more.”

  Harald waited quietly.

  Leif picked up his bottle, but then put it back down. Damn.

  He’d rather go through battle for days without sleep than talk about the new development with his berserker. He was close to his battle brother, they gave each other a hard time about the wenches, but an honorable man did not brag about his bedsport.

  And true men didn’t talk about feelings.

  They weren’t supposed to have them.

  He swallowed loudly. “My berserker talks to me. It wants Naya.”

  His stallare opened his mouth. When no sound came out, he closed it again. Putting the pilsner bottle to his lips, he drank several deep gulps. Finally he pulled the bottle from his mouth. “Your berserker talks to you?”

  Leif nodded.

  “You mean it strengthens your anger, your battle fever.”

  Leif shook his head.

  Harald blinked several times. “It converses? In actual words? About Naya?”

  Leif nodded.

  “Fuck.”

  “Exactly,” Leif agreed.

  His stallare sat still, staring at the half-eaten sandwich. “What does it say?”

  Leif shifted in the chair. He picked at the label on his bottle. “So far only single words.”

  “Like what?”

  “It has claimed Naya.” Leif pulled up his sleeve.

  Harald stared at the serpent tail, blinked a few times, and then looked back at Leif. “How could this happen? She’s not a Valkyrie.”

  Leif sighed. “I don’t know. At first I thought the mark was a side effect of the poison, but Irja insists it’s real.”

  His friend was the first to break eye contact. “Our small warrior tribe would gain a true queen.”

  Leif cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t mind having a queen who’s not a Valkyrie.”

  His stallare paused. “I trust the bond. Torvald will have a problem, but the others will come around.” Harald drank from his bottle. “It is truly a gift from the goddess to meet the one person who completes you. A queen would strengthen the king’s berserker and all the warriors’ bonds with their berserkers.”

  He’d expected Harald to be angry, but should have known his friend would believe in and obey an ancient magical tradition like the själsfrände bond. And maybe the bond could be used as a strategic advantage. “We would only grow stronger if the warriors accept Naya as their queen.” He rubbed his face. “I don’t even know if she’ll accept me as her mate.”

  Harald cleared his throat. “Human women are known to be foolish, and most of them find you attractive.” He grinned. “Shouldn’t take you long before you have her in your bed and get her to the altar.”

  Leif’s stomach clenched. “I’m in no hurry to get married.” His duty was to prevent Ragnarök, to save the world. He didn’t have time for romance or seduction. “I tried that once.”

  Harald’s face softened. “Centuries have passed since you last took a wife.”

  “Back then I was only a warrior, and still, duty made me fail miserably as a husband.” He’d sworn long ago to not let anyone close again. He was the king. His duty could only be to his gods and his warriors.

  “You cannot blame yourself for Solveig’s and the children’s deaths. You didn’t know—”

  Leif held up his hand. “Let’s not discuss this now. We have bigger things to worry about. Our first priority must be to thwart the wolverine threat.”

  Harald nodded. “But you can’t ignore your själsfrände. You must complete the bond or you jeopardize your control of your berserker, and that will put all of us in danger.”

  Leif rose. “I know, but let’s deal with one problem at a time.” He stepped into the hallway. The throbbing between his temples resonated with his heavy footsteps as he walked down the hall.

  Chapter 7

  Leif turned to administrative work to keep his mind off Naya while he waited for his warriors to track down the wolverines’ poison grove.

  He began an email to a particularly wordy chief’s request to have Irja visit for a month. The Valkyrie had specifically requested to not go anywhere for the next year, and Leif would honor that, even if he had no idea why.

  It would be a waste of breath asking her.

  Harald and Sten came crashing through the door. Leif turned from the monitor to look up at his men.

  “What’s going on?”

  “We found the van Per drove when he left this morning,” Harald said.

  “But not Per,” Sten interjected, earning an impatient look from Harald. “I beg your pardon,” the young Viking mumbled and bowed to Leif and then Harald.

  The marshal acknowledged the gesture with a nod. “The van was abandoned in a lot down by River Park. No sign of our brother anywhere.”

  Leif rubbed the back of his neck. “Do we know if he picked up the weapons yet?”

  The two men in front of him exchange
d an uncomfortable look. “He had ten rifles and five handguns in the van when he left the supplier.”

  “Let me guess,” Leif said. “They are as gone as Per?”

  Both men nodded.

  “Shit.”

  “What would you like us to do?” Harald asked.

  “Our first priority must be to find Per,” Leif said. “Hopefully we find the weapons with him, but he must be safe before we do anything else.”

  “I’ll check with Ulf to see if we can get a lock on his cell phone,” Harald said. “It wasn’t in the van or anywhere around the vehicle.” He left the room.

  Sten stood in front of the desk, not looking at Leif.

  “Is there something you want?”

  “I’m worried, my king. Per would never have let anybody take those weapons without a fight.”

  “I know,” Leif said. “But let’s not plan for disaster until we have a clearer picture of what’s going on.”

  “Yes, my king.” Sten bowed again before walking toward the door.

  “We’ll find him,” Leif promised his retreating back.

  * * *

  Leif found Naya in her bedroom, seated in one of the armchairs, typing away on a laptop. Strange how he already thought of it as her bedroom.

  He’d been avoiding her. The emotions flooding his body whenever he was near her overwhelmed him, and he really didn’t have the time to deal with something as crazy as the själsfrände bond. Not that there would ever be a good time, but right now he needed to concentrate on finding Per and keeping his people safe.

  Mine, the berserker whispered, but stayed calm for a change.

  Dressed in a flannel shirt three sizes too big, she appeared completely absorbed in her work, muttering to herself as she stabbed the keyboard. The seventeen-inch screen obscured most of her upper body.

  “Are you just going to stand there or did you need something?” she snapped.

  He grinned, but lowered his chin before she looked up. She might have a tiny body, but it held a large spirit. As well as a big temper. “I came to see how you are.” He reached out to check her forehead for a temperature, but pulled back when Naya flinched. “I would never hurt you.”