Viking Warrior Rising

by Asa Maria Bradley

  The red-haired Viking stood and dipped two fingers into the bowl. Tracing a circle around the head of his own tattoo, he repeated, “My serpent is bound to your warrior spirits.”

  The wind gusted, whipping the warriors’ tunics around their legs and Astrid’s and Irja’s hair into their faces. Naya wondered if she was supposed to add her blood to the bowl, but it seemed her main duty was to sit next to Leif. She was fine with that.

  Harald walked down the line and each warrior repeated the smeared circle and the words about the serpent and the warrior spirit.

  The leaves of the ash tree rustled and whooshed violently. Harald walked over to the base of the tree, bowed three times, and then poured the blood from the bowl over the roots. The wind died at once.

  When the branches stilled and dipped down to their original position, it looked as if the giant tree bowed to the Vikings and the Valkyries. Without meaning to, Naya too bent down with the Norse warriors as they returned the tree’s gesture.

  Leif sat back down on the throne. He looked up at Naya. She met his gaze and something passed between them, something significant. Before she could identify what it was, Leif looked away and placed his cut hand palm down on the armrest Naya wasn’t sitting on. He smeared the stone and then turned his hand palm up.

  One by one, the warriors approached the throne and covered Leif’s injured hand with their own before bowing down, touching their forehead to the entwined hands. Each of them said the same phrase, “Min kung, I give you my sword, my honor, my life,” while Leif briefly touched his uninjured palm to the back of their heads.

  Naya felt like she was intruding on an intimate moment. She didn’t believe she could ever truly be his wife, or his people’s queen, but there was so much power in this ceremony. It unsettled her.

  Once each warrior had paid respect to the king, the whole troop marched back to the house. Naya rushed ahead of Leif, needing a few moments to collect herself.

  Half an hour later, she found Leif in his office, putting on battle gear. His back was turned to the door, and she paused to admire his body. Snug black leather pants hugged his lean hips and muscular thighs. On his feet, he wore black combat boots. The defined muscles of his back flexed through his shirt as he fiddled with something on the desk in front of him.

  “I hate Velcro. What’s wrong with laces and hooks?” he muttered.

  She crossed the room and grabbed the Kevlar vest he was trying to sort out. She’d come to continue their discussion from before and to get clarification on what had happened in the clearing, but now was not the time. She understood the importance of mentally preparing for a fight. Had done so many times herself. “Let me help.” The front of him was even more impressive. She glanced at the six-pack abs visible under the cotton material and had to swallow to relieve her suddenly dry throat.

  She switched her gaze to the vest in her hands. The bulletproof garment was state of the art, superthin, and flexible. Quickly loosening the straps on the sides, she held it by the shoulders. She eyed his bandaged hand. “How’s your palm?”

  “My palm is going to be fine. The ceremony only requires a shallow cut.” He bent at the waist, waiting for her to put the vest on him. “Thank you for untangling the vest,” he said grudgingly.

  Naya slipped the Kevlar over his head, allowing her hands to touch his silken hair for a minute. “Do you ever think about cutting it?” What she really wanted to ask was what that look across the clearing had meant, but she felt too raw to discuss it now. He was getting ready for a fight, and emotions didn’t belong in battle.

  Leif straightened and held out his arms so she could reach the straps on the side. “Why? A Viking’s hair is a sign of strength.”

  She stepped to his side. “Ulf must be very weak then.” Ignoring the tantalizing smell of his skin, she tightened one of the straps. Why did her body ache for him when her mind shouted to run away?

  He grunted as the vest tightened around his chest. “My technical genius is enamored with everything of this time. Not only the gadgets, but the clothes and the hairstyles too.”

  “Long hair can be a disadvantage in a fight.” Her scalp tingled with the memory of the wolverine grabbing her hair the night she’d saved Leif in the alley.

  “True, but long hair on a Viking is a tradition. I like traditions.” He gave her a meaningful look as another puff of breath escaped through his lips when she tugged on the strap again.

  She secured the Velcro and Leif lowered his arms. His tattoo ink glimmered, remains of the blood smear still encircling the snake’s head, and, for one moment, she thought a rune glowed as she brushed his arm by accident. “The others have the head and partial body around their bicep. Will they too find a soul mate?”

  Impatiently, he checked that his vest was secure. “The själsfrände bond is a blessing from the goddess Freya, but very rare. We are honored that she has bestowed her gift on us.”

  She bristled. He still only talked of the bond in terms of honor and duty. “I still can’t accept that we are bonded.” The unease she’d felt at the clearing tightened her chest again.

  Leif stilled and cradled her face in both his palms. “It doesn’t matter what we think. The gods have spoken and we are now bonded for life. If you were a Valkyrie, your serpent would be whole as well.”

  Naya took a step back, forcing him to release her. She didn’t mean to distract him from his battle preparations, but he had brought it up. “I’m not okay with this.”

  “Neither of us had a choice, the connection triggered the day you saved me in the alley.”

  “I don’t want this.” Her voice sounded shrill.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  What happened to a soul mate who turned out to be a monster? Would she just get kicked out or worse—imprisoned and studied?

  “We’ll discuss this further when I get back,” he said. “Right now, I need information about the truck.”

  She swallowed the angry words threatening to spill out of her mouth. He was right. The truck should be their first priority. Plenty of time to set him straight about their relationship later. Or at least she wouldn’t be around and he could deal with it all on his own. She unfolded a piece of paper from her back pocket and thrust it at him. “We traced the truck’s path through closed-circuit security and traffic cameras. It’s at the farm where Per was held captive.”

  Leif studied the satellite image she’d printed out. “This is a sharper focus than last time.”

  She shrugged. “Google Earth doesn’t update often enough. I hacked into a satellite to get real-time footage.”

  He studied her. “How many laws did you break?”

  “I’m sure the gods won’t mind.” Her sassy tone earned a small smile from him. Embarrassed over how much that pleased her, she averted her eyes.

  Studying the image, Leif put his finger on a spot in the middle. “Astrid and Torvald searched this place again a few days ago. They found nothing and this truck was not there.”

  “It’s ingenious to have a mobile growing grove. I’m surprised more potheads don’t use trucks.”

  “Probably because they’d drive too slow.” Leif grinned at her.

  His attempt at lightening the mood and the modern reference took her by surprise and she found herself grinning back. “The truck is registered to Consultant Management, like the other two cars.”

  His head jerked up. “We’ll have to study this connection between the wolverines and your kidnappers further.” He studied her closely.

  She avoided his gaze. “The others are waiting for you. Ulf has updated them.”

  Leif crossed his arms across his chest. “Naya, you need to share everything.”

  “I have. I told you about the license plate number.”

  He shifted impatiently. “I’ve waited for you to tell me about your connection with the wolverines.”

  Her heart sank. How had he found out? “They’re somehow connected through the company that owns the vehicles.”

  “Y
ou must think me stupid,” he growled. “There’s more of a connection than that. What did you kidnapper mean when he said ‘we made her,’ and why do the wolverines always find you?”

  “How do you know they’re not finding you?” She swallowed the panic rising in her throat. “I’d never seen them before the night they attacked you in the alley.”

  He just watched her, one eyebrow raised.

  She relented. “I don’t know the whole connection, but somehow the wolverines know who I am and they know about my brother.”

  “You must have some theories.”

  She looked up at him watching him intently to gage his reaction. “I think they were made in the lab where I was imprisoned.”

  Except for his jaw clenching, his face gave nothing away. “You could have shared this information with me.”

  “I was afraid you’d consider me your enemy.”

  His face turned cold. “I have done nothing for you to think I would hurt you.” He looked away. “I need my weapons.” He grabbed a leather jacket from the back of the chair and strode toward the door. “I can’t be distracted by you joining the fight. Stay at the fortress. We have much to discuss when I get back.”

  Naya swallowed nervously. “That depends on how long you’ll be gone.”

  He paused mid-stride, slowly turning. “What do you mean?”

  She shrugged. “I have business out of town.”

  Taking a step toward her, he lowered his voice. “You will stay here until I return.”

  “I heard you the first time.” Earlier, she’d suggested joining the fight, but Harald and Leif had both protested vehemently. Even Astrid had objected, probably because the Valkyrie would also be left out of the mission. Leif had insisted on going on the mission, and with the king gone, a warrior had to stay and guard the house. Naya suspected it really meant someone had to stay and babysit her, guard her. Astrid had pulled the short straw.

  “Consider it a request.” His eyes turned dangerously dark and his nostrils flared. “From your king. Whom you are bonded to.” He stepped closer, bending down. “For this to work, you have to trust me and do as I tell…as I ask you.”

  She stilled. He was too close. “I’m not comfortable with all of these rules.”

  His lips hovered over hers. “Some rules are good,” he whispered, his breath caressing her lips.

  She wanted his kiss so bad, she ached. Forcing herself to take a step back, her body tingled with disappointment. “I have my own rules.” She put her hands in her pockets to keep them from grabbing on to him. “They include not having to ask anyone for permission. I leave town tomorrow.”

  “Why?” His hand reached out to touch her face, but she ducked out of the way.

  “A client needs me to assess his security needs.”

  “You’re leaving town with a man?” His hand dropped and clenched into a fist.

  “A client.” Was Leif jealous?

  You wouldn’t like it if he went out of town with another woman. She pushed the thought out of her head.

  “The wolverines are connected to those hunting you. Traveling by yourself is not safe,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

  She stared him in the eyes. “I am not going by myself. The client and his bodyguards will protect me.”

  “I will protect you.” He waved his hand in the air. “It is my duty to do so.”

  Again with “duty.” She should never have slept with him. If she had resisted, whatever this bond thing he insisted had formed would not be an issue.

  As if she could have resisted him.

  She shook her head and welcomed the hot fury raging inside. She didn’t know how to handle this physical craving she had for him, but anger was familiar. Her fists clenched. “I am my own person.”

  Leif glowered. “You belong to me. If your wants endanger you or my people, you will adjust them accordingly.”

  Before she had a chance to reply to his ridiculous statement, the door opened and Harald entered. He was also dressed completely in black. The bushy beard had been trimmed close to his face. His green eyes shone with excitement. “Min kung, the hour grows late. We should confiscate the truck before it moves to a new place.” He bowed quickly to Naya.

  “We’ll continue this discussion later,” Leif shot over his shoulder as he strode across the room to join Harald. “You will be here when I return.”

  Naya stared after him as the door slammed behind them. She’d arranged to go with Holden in the morning. The arrogant Viking king would just have to deal. She sank down into one of the chairs flanking his desk.

  She’d hoped her last memory would be of making love to Leif, not wanting to knock some sense into his thick head. Now that he knew the true connection between herself and the wolverines, it was not likely he’d ever take her to his bed again.

  Chapter 17

  Leif stomped down the hallway, following his stallare. Harald adjusted the scabbard hanging off his belt and glanced over his shoulder, quirking an eyebrow. “Did you fill your boots with lead?”

  “Mind your own business,” Leif snarled, easing up on his footfall.

  “I would, but you’re broadcasting yours to everyone.” He shot a cocky smirk over his shoulder.

  Leif opened his mouth to give him hell, but shut it when he found three Vikings and two Valkyries in the foyer, staring at him wide-eyed. “What the fuck is your problem?” he said instead.

  Everyone avoided his gaze. What was their problem?

  He took one more step down and studied his warriors. Per and Ulf avoided his gaze, but Torvald stared at him, defiance glittering in his eyes. “How can you bond with a human?”

  “Watch your tone, old man.” Harald took a step toward him, hand on his sword hilt. “Show your queen the respect she deserves.”

  Torvald ignored him. He stared at Leif. “A non-Valkyrie as queen, it’s not done.”

  Leif took the last step down and strode toward his oldest warrior. “I am your king. You do not question me.” He felt Harald’s presence at his side, slightly behind him. “And you do not question Freya. Naya is my själsfrände.”

  Torvald straightened, but still had to look up to meet Leif’s eyes. “She is not a warrior. She is not one of us.”

  Leif widened his stance.

  Torvald flinched.

  Ulf stepped forward. “She saved the king’s life. Killed four wolverines on her own. She’s as good of a warrior as any of us. Better than some. You liked her well enough when she installed the surveillance and computer system.”

  “Know your place, pojke. That was before I knew she bonded with the king.” The old Viking sneered.

  Ulf pulled his sword. “I’ll show you what my place is, you grizzled fool.”

  Leif’s berserker responded to the heavy tension lacing the air. His nostrils flared and his right hand clenched, searching for the hilt of his favorite weapon. Behind him, he heard Harald pull his sword halfway out of the scabbard. The warriors had all collected their favorite weapons from the armory.

  “Everybody calm the fuck down,” Astrid growled.

  Leif glared at her. She held her head high and something wild glittered in her eyes. She clenched her jaw so hard, her teeth ground against each other.

  Her berserker was close to the breaking point.

  She startled him by walking up to him and grabbing his wrist like a vise. “Calm down,” she whispered. “Your berserker’s rage is feeding ours.”

  “It’s true,” Per whispered as if in awe. “I feel my connection to the king growing. His anger is fueling mine.”

  “A human queen is not right,” Torvald muttered.

  Astrid turned. “Get used to it, old man,” she spat out. “Your queen tracked down where our enemies grow their poison.”

  Ulf cleared his throat. “Actually, I tracked down the truck.”

  Wild-eyed, Astrid swiveled around.

  He blanched. “Okay, the queen showed me how.”

  “She saved Sten,” Per said quietly.
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  “Louder,” Astrid commanded.

  Per turned to Torvald, squaring his shoulders to confront his mentor and teacher. The young Viking rarely contradicted the older warrior and was the only one who ate his cooking. “Sten was dying until Irja injected him with the queen’s blood.”

  The older warrior raised a skeptical brow.

  Irja’s black hair gleamed in the light. She looked at Torvald. “I couldn’t save him. The king’s mate gave him life.”

  Torvald’s shoulders slumped. “She is not a Valkyrie.” He surveyed the room for support.

  “Who the fuck cares?” Harald bellowed. “The bond makes our king stronger, which makes all of us stronger.” He slipped his sword back in its scabbard. “Now can we please get the fuck out of here and go kill some wolverines?”

  “Please do.” Astrid rolled her eyes. She appeared calm again. “I’ve had enough antiquated testosterone-driven posturing to last me a lifetime or two.”

  Torvald muttered something under his breath, but quieted when the blond Valkyrie glared at him. The others put on their jackets, adjusted the sword scabbards on their belts, and slipped a gun or two into holsters. They lined up shoulder to shoulder, sword hands on their hilts.

  Harald turned to Leif and handed him Arngrim in its scabbard. The broadsword bore the name of a berserker featured in the old sagas. His father had given him the weapon on his fifteenth birthday.

  Leif took the sword and pulled it out of the scabbard. The ring of steel brushing against leather resonated through the air as he held the sword up high, its weight balanced comfortably in his grip. He’d wielded this weapon for so long it felt like an extension of his arm. His warriors pulled their own swords, holding them above their heads. The broadswords were hard to conceal and not very effective against modern weapons, so these days they used them mostly in training and for ceremonial purposes. The sword connected them to their past, strengthening their bonds with their berserkers and the bond they shared as battle brothers.