But they both knew they wouldn’t.
Something else entirely was at work here.
Cybil rubbed her forehead, stared at the picture and whispered, “I’m not hungry.”
“Still,” Sam said, a little less chipper than usual, likely sensing something was seriously off. “You’ve gotta eat.”
“No.” Cybil shook her head and backed away from the picture, cursing the unexpected lust that tore through her as she continued to stare at it...at him. “I need to get away from it.” She took another step back. “Sean, please…take it away!”
“Okay. Calm down.” Sean started down the hallway with the picture. “I’ll put it in the basement.”
Cybil bit her lip to keep from calling him back, because every fiber of her being wanted to scream, “Don’t take it! Bring it back!” But for her sake and everyone else’s she remained silent.
Cybil cursed under her breath, baffled by her emotions. She’d had no sense of forewarning. And although she should like the lack of control, she didn’t.
This was unsafe for her sisters.
All of it.
“Where are you going, Cyb?” Sam asked as she headed upstairs. “Are we going Jet Skiing soon?”
“Not right now. I’m taking a nap.”
A total lie. She needed to take back control. The ocean was rough and the skies turbulent, but she sensed nothing but smooth sailing. Control over a fate she had less than twelve hours before wanted to escape. Not now. She climbed into her bathing suit, tied her hair into a ponytail and headed outside onto her bedroom deck.
Moving quickly because she knew Sean would be out as soon as he spied her, she removed the cover from one of the Jet Skis, threw on a life vest to stay off the coast guard’s radar and headed out.
As she navigated the heavier swells closer to shore, she slowly relaxed as reality seemed to right itself. This made sense. Risk without risk. Not all that fun but at least it wasn’t what that picture offered. Danger. A threat not toward her but her sisters. Something she couldn’t control or navigate.
Once she got beyond the initial waves, she gunned the Jet Ski and raced out into Frenchman Bay. She could already hear Sean cursing because the water was pretty wild. The swells higher than usual.
But there was no ash tree out here. No Yggdrasill.
And definitely no Heidrek.
The wind whipped, and black clouds rolled across the sky as she laughed and crested wave after wave. She tilted her head back and grinned when thunder rumbled across the sky.
A few minutes out, she tackled an especially high wave then turned sharply when she reached the bottom. Water shot into the sky as her Jet Ski skidded, giving her an extra thrill. While she intended to cruise the coastline she couldn’t help but play. The swells were higher than ever, and her adrenaline was rushing.
It felt pretty damn good.
Freeing.
Gunning the engine, Cybil chased the swells inland. She loved the rush of riding a wave, jumping then chasing the next. Wind whipped and salt caked her skin as she narrowed her eyes and laughed.
Lightning flashed as she raced after the next wave. That’s when she saw Sean heading her way in the cigarette boat. Damn it. He was coming to get her. While tempted to bank a hard right to lose him, he would chase her down. And though she knew nothing would happen to him, she still didn’t want him out here.
So she kept flying inland, jumping and riding the waves. Her intention was to cruise by him, wave and smile.
And she did.
Or at least she thought so.
Maybe a thousand yards out, he was closing in. The dock was within sight.
The ash tree.
Yet something changed when her eyes locked on it.
Despite the whipping wind and the ocean spray, it almost seemed to illuminate as if sunlight hit it. But that couldn’t be because it was so overcast. Yet the tree glowed.
A split second later, everything changed.
She wasn’t racing toward shore but through the air.
Sean and the boat vanished. So did her Jet Ski and life vest. Still racing forward, she catapulted, tumbling over and over until she crashed into the water. Stunned, she closed her mouth and relaxed her body. Even though she tried to stop herself, she rolled beneath the water for several long moments before she surfaced.
All she could see at first were flashes of light as she tried to regain her bearings.
Then she saw it.
A long, unfamiliar dock.
A man stood at the end of it with his arms crossed over his chest and anger in his eyes as he watched her.
Then she saw more.
Endless docks.
Viking longships.
Towering mountains.
Oh no.
She was tugged under by a wave. When she surfaced, he was still there watching her. Sizing her up. She just knew it. What was going on? Who was he? She tried to swim but couldn’t gain ground. Hell. She was caught in a riptide.
One far too close to shore and heavier waves.
She went under again then started rolling.
Determined to fight this, she held her breath, waited until the roll let her go, turned sideways and started swimming underwater. She needed to work with the water, not fight it. So that’s what she did, over and over again as she made her way toward shore. She ignored her confusing surroundings and focused on survival.
A need to survive she had not been forewarned about.
Yet she knew what had happened. Somehow, Cybil had done the opposite of what she and Heidrek wanted.
She was no longer in her own era.
But she couldn’t process that right now. All she could do was work toward staying alive. So she rolled and tumbled and swam until she was swept up into a strong set of arms.
She knew exactly who it was.
The man who had allowed her to struggle all this time.
Exhausted, eyes bleary from the salt water, she mumbled, “Who are you?”
His deep voice rumbled as he strode forward and said words she knew weren’t good.
“I am Matthew Sigdir, first born son of Raknar ‘The Hunter’ and Veronica,” he declared. “And I claim you as mine.”
Chapter Three
Scandinavia
906 A.D.
“PUT ME DOWN,” Cybil managed, so weak she could barely move. “Now.”
“Not yet, woman,” Matthew growled.
Please let this be a dream.
But as her vision cleared and he carried her past numerous tall, bearded men dressed in foreign clothing, she knew all her dreams and glimpses of another reality had finally caught up with her.
“Put me down, now,” she repeated, her voice low.
He gave no response but strode through tall gates and down a dirt road lined by houses with thatched roofs that sloped nearly to the ground. Her eyes shot to the towering mountains beyond with their tips steeped in clouds. This couldn’t be happening.
It just could not.
Cybil closed her eyes and tried to focus on the tunnel that always brought her out of her dreams. Out of what must have been ancient Scandinavia. But nothing rose up. Nothing existed but the chill of the air and the heat of the man carrying her.
“No,” she whispered and opened her eyes. Matthew didn’t look at her but strode forward. With light brown hair and fierce green eyes, he was probably very good looking when he wasn’t so pissed off.
She kept her voice firm and level despite how frightened and angry she was. Neither emotion would likely help her in this situation. “Why are you upset?”
Again, he gave no response.
So she debated. Plead with him or see where this ended? He didn’t strike her as the type to rape. In fact, he hadn’t looked at her with desire at all. No, he wanted to prove something else entirely when he bypassed a huge building and headed for another one behind it.
He didn’t knock but barged in. An older man sat in front of the fire and a woman around his age lounged on the b
ed. They did not appear startled in the least by their arrival. It was almost as if they expected them.
Cybil’s eyes widened when Matthew lowered her to the ground, wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back against him. God, he was as tall and muscled as Heidrek.
“I found this woman and claim her as mine, my King,” Matthew declared.
“So you say, Nephew,” the older man said softly, his eyes never leaving the fire. “But how do I know you claimed her when she first arrived?”
Matthew made a low whistling sound, and two men joined him.
“I saw it with my own eyes, my King,” the shorter man said. “She arrived in the waters off our shore.”
“Matthew saved her,” the other said, his eyes shifty. “She would not be alive otherwise.”
“I see,” the King said before he dismissed them. His gaze settled on Matthew for a long disappointed moment before his eyes turned to Cybil. “Welcome. My name is Naðr Véurr Sigdir. I am King of this region.” He gestured to the woman on the bed. “This is my wife, Megan.”
“Hello,” Cybil murmured, not entirely in control of her vocal chords but smart enough to ask the right questions. “Where am I? What’s going on?”
That’s when the king told her what she feared most. That this nightmare was real. She was in tenth-century Scandinavia.
Being scared would do her no good, so she said whatever she could think of given the circumstances. Her eyes went to Megan’s. “My name’s Cybil. Sean told me about you. I live in your house in Winter Harbor.” Then her eyes returned to the king. “And I know Heidrek. He came to me in visions.”
Matthew made a disgruntled sound but didn’t let her go.
“Cybil,” Naðr Véurr murmured, as though he had heard the name before. His eyes stayed with hers as he contemplated then his gaze went to Matthew. “She is from the future, Nephew. Just like your mother and aunts. That means the rules are different, and you well know it.”
Matthew’s grip tightened in defiance.
“Let her go, Matthew,” Megan said crisply as she approached with a fur. “She’s soaked and cold.”
Though tempted to remark she might be in better shape if Matthew had helped her sooner, Cybil held her tongue. She was way out of her element and had no intention of saying too much until she understood exactly what was going on.
“Let her go, Matthew,” Megan warned. “Or suffer the consequences.”
“He will suffer the consequences regardless,” came a deep, familiar voice. “Release her, Brother.”
Brother? Cybil’s eyes shot to the right and widened.
Heidrek.
Seeing him in real life was a whole lot different than in a dream or as an apparition. She knew he was handsome but hadn’t expected this. Him. It wasn’t just his good looks but his powerful presence. She had never met anyone with such a strong sense of self and humble authority.
He wore brown leather pants and a sleeveless leather jerkin. Tattoos curled down his muscular arms. With a nearly square jaw, sensuous lips and straight brows, he wore a stern expression she guessed was common for him.
His eyes never met hers but stayed locked on Matthew.
“You knew she was coming yet you were not out there to save her, Heidrek,” Matthew said, his tone dark. “But I was.”
Though tempted to remind him that she had saved herself, Cybil remained silent. She sensed the discontent between the brothers went far deeper than the strife of her arrival.
“Cybil has clearly been through enough already, Matthew, no thanks to you I’m sure,” Megan cut in. “And she’s freezing.”
Heidrek and Matthew kept staring one another down. Only when a tattoo of a dragon began glowing on the side of Heidrek’s neck did his brother finally release her.
“This isn’t over,” Matthew spat before he left.
Megan sighed and wrapped a fur around Cybil. “My apologies for Matthew’s behavior. Life has been difficult for him the past few years.”
“It’s okay,” she said softly, grateful for the warmth and coverage.
The King’s eyes went to Heidrek. “Until we know what is going on I want the women at the dragon lair with Kodran and Kol. You, Bjorn and Tait, stay here in case Erin arrives.”
“Erin?” Cybil’s eyes went to the King. “You mean Erin DeLaunde?”
“She goes by Erin MacLeod now but yes.” Megan took her hand and led her to a chair by the fire. “Come sit so we can talk.”
Cybil stopped short when Heidrek’s eyes finally met hers. Icy pale blue, they seemed to see straight into her soul. It was both erotic and telling. She inhaled sharply as images flashed through her mind. Them together. Bare flesh. Sweat. Passion.
His pupils flared, and his voice grew gruff. “I will return soon, Cybil. Then we must talk as well.”
She nodded but said nothing. Because what could she say? Somehow they had both failed. Or maybe just her. She never should have gone out on the Jet Ski. Maybe she had tempted Fate in a way she didn’t even understand.
Megan sent a girl to draw a bath then urged Cybil to sit in front of the fire as she handed her a mug. “Drink. It will help warm you.”
“Thanks,” she murmured and sipped. When her eyes stung and she coughed, Megan said, “It’s mead. You’ll get used to it.”
Cybil nodded and eyed her. With curly blond hair, Megan had aged well. If anything, she appeared a little too thin.
Though she had tons of questions, Cybil decided to take one step at a time. Her eyes drifted over the numerous weapons hanging on the wall before returning to Megan. “This place is impressive…Queen Megan.”
“Oh, you don’t have to call me that. I don’t keep to formalities with friends.” Megan sat next to her and looked at Cybil with curiosity. “And you are a friend, yes? Just like you’re a friend to Sean?”
Megan was feeling her out, and she didn’t blame her.
“Yes, I’m a friend.” She took another sip, grateful for the warmth spreading through her. “And I mean no harm to you and yours.”
“No, I don’t suppose you do, yet…” Megan’s eyes held hers. “Something is wrong, isn’t it? Something only Heidrek understands.”
“Yes,” she answered honestly. Because if one thing was certain, she wanted to gain Megan’s trust. “I’m just not sure what.” Cybil took another sip. “I hope you don’t think I’m being forward, but I’d love to know what’s going on with Erin.”
She decided not to tell Megan that she already knew her cousin had traveled back in time.
“Erin lives in thirteenth century Scotland now. She married a man named Ronan MacLeod.” Megan watched Cybil’s reaction closely. “Like Erin, he is a dragon-shifter.”
Cybil did not feign ignorance. “I’m glad she found another like her. Does she love him?”
“Very much,” Megan said. “So you knew Erin was part dragon, yet even she didn’t know as much.”
“I did.” Warmed enough, Cybil set aside her drink. “I tend to see things others cannot.”
“I gathered as much.” Megan took note of Cybil’s nearly full mug before her gaze turned to the fire. “Tell me about your interactions with Heidrek.”
“No disrespect, but I would prefer to speak with him first,” Cybil said. “So that I can better understand those interactions myself.”
Megan’s brows shot up, and a smile ghosted her lips before her eyes met Cybil’s. “Why don’t you tell me what you do understand about them?”
“I would rather not until I’ve spoken with Heidrek,” she reiterated.
Instead of pressing further, Megan redirected the conversation. “Do you know who Heidrek is? Do you know his position in this community?”
“Based on what I saw transpire between him and Matthew then between him and your King, my guess is he’s important,” she said. “Beyond that, I can only speculate.”
That same soft knowing smile hovered on Megan’s lips. “And what of Heidrek’s tattoo?”
“He has more of th
em than I expected.”
“The one on his neck, Cybil,” Megan said softly, her tone just firm enough for Cybil to get the message. The queen knew more than she was letting on and was testing her.
“I think it’s stunning.” Her eyes stayed with Megan’s. “And like Heidrek himself, not what it seems.”
“To say the least,” Megan murmured. “Did you know I met him when he was barely ten years old?”
Another test. Megan was trying to find out just how much Heidrek had shared with Cybil before she arrived here.
So Cybil kept her response vague. “No, I didn’t.”
“He was a sweet boy,” Megan said. “With a good and noble heart.”
“And that hasn’t changed,” Cybil said. “Has it?”
“Maybe the sweet part.” A smile flitted across Megan’s face again. “But that’s to be expected in this day and age.”
Especially dealing with a brother like Matthew, she thought, but kept that to herself. Again, she didn’t understand the dynamics of their relationship. Yet when she learned more, it would be something she asked Heidrek about, not Megan.
“You have an interesting way of handling yourself considering what you’ve just been through, Cybil,” Megan said. “I sense you tend to think carefully before speaking. As if you’ve been doing it for a very long time.”
Apparently, it was time to be even more cautious with her responses. Until she knew this woman better, she wouldn’t reveal the truth about her sisters and her role in guiding them over the years. So she detoured.
“I tend to be a bit of a dare-devil so extreme things like traveling through time don’t affect me like they’d probably affect others,” Cybil offered. “And yes, I tend to think before speaking, but that’s likely because of years spent behind a camera. Always observing. I suppose it just becomes habit.”
“A camera?” Megan’s brows perked. “Like photography?”
“Yes.” Cybil smiled. “That’s my trade.”
“Ah.” Megan smiled as well. “You must be successful if you live in my old house.”
“Actually,” Cybil began, but Megan cut her off. “How is Sean anyway? I’ve missed him. We all have.”
She suddenly got the strong sense that Megan was trying to distract her away from Erin’s connection to Jackie’s money, Grant and the house in Winter Harbor. If so, fine. She was okay with taking things one step at a time. For now.
Rise of a Viking (The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors' Kin Book 1) Page 4
