Haakon’s knees gave way beneath him as he sank onto the bench. “But... how? Why?”
“Ten years ago, my sister went abroad in the world. I heard the ripples of her passing in the wind, and she is the only dreki I’ve connected with since I was exiled. There would have been... pressure on her to breed, and Árdís has always disliked pressure. She wanted to see more of the world before she was old enough to accept a mate. Perhaps she came upon you. Perhaps you pleased her... for a time. But my uncle would have been pushing her to return, and she could never take you with her. I’m sorry. I don’t know her reasons for marrying you when she knew it could never last, and I can only suspect why she left. But I do know you deserve the truth.”
Haakon scraped a hand over his face, reeling from the news. For a second, Rurik almost felt sorry for the man, and didn’t understand why. One did not feel pity for one’s enemies. But...
Haakon had based his entire life on a lie, and had killed three dragons and chased Árdís halfway across the seas in an attempt to find her.
Perhaps Rurik understood what would drive a man to do such a thing, for he felt the same need in his heart when he thought of Freyja.
“That lying bitch,” Haakon whispered. He looked up, heat returning to her face. “Everything we had was a lie. What the hell do I do?”
“Go home,” Rurik said gently. “Go back to your family. And bury your memories of your wife.”
The other man’s nostrils flared. “No. She owes me the truth from her own lips.”
“The truth will get you killed.”
“You don’t know that.”
“My mother believes dreki blood should remain pure. The second she sees you, she will kill you for daring to touch immortal flesh. Perhaps the reason Árdís left you is because she sought to save your life. Doing this will only guarantee your death.”
“I don’t care,” Haakon croaked. “What would you do if that were Freyja?”
Burn the world to ashes to confront her, and demand the truth. Rurik’s lips twisted.
“You cannot change my mind,” Haakon declared, and Rurik saw the truth of it in the other man’s eyes.
“Dig your own grave then. I’ll be no more a part of this insane quest.”
He had paid the debt Árdís owed the man, and fate would work what it intended.
It was time to find Freyja.
Chapter 22
Rurik found Freyja in the barn, pitching hay into the stalls where her lambs rested.
After all that was said and done, everything they’d been through, she was back to acting as though she had nothing else to do right now.
Doubt filled him as he watched her silently from the shadows. Light pierced a hole in the ceiling, highlighting the gilt in her dark blonde hair. She muttered to herself, cursing under her breath as she finished her task and leaned on the pitchfork to rest. His heart twisted in his chest at the sight.
Let her go, said logic. Your uncle will kill her if he hears of her existence.
But there was a part of him that was not so rational. A part of him that curled its lip and growled deep within at the mere thought of surrendering what was his. It burned within him like the molten heart of a volcano, threatening to erupt through his veins.
He could no more deny himself than deny the truth. Freyja was the other half of his soul.
The connection that burned between them from the start was finally one he understood. Here was his other half, the one spirit who could match him. All he had to do was claim her as his and bond with her, for the link between them to be complete.
Freyja’s head lifted, almost as if she heard him, which was ridiculous.
Or was it? He still did not understand her powers.
“Rurik?” she whispered, turning around to search for him in the shadows.
Their eyes locked.
And he was done.
Fever danced within his blood, a primal need surging through him, driving him to claim her. Arguments whirled through his head, all the reasons he should not do this. But there was such a sense of rightness within him too. His wildness ached for something more.
Rurik stepped out of the shadows. Freyja’s face lit up hungrily, as if she too shared the wildness that lit him on fire, before she swiftly shuttered her expression. Her eyelashes swept down, hiding those magnificent eyes, sunlight staining the tips of them.
“You’re well again,” she finally said, and her chest heaved as she let out a relieved breath. She hovered on the balls of her feet as though she wanted to go to him, then stopped herself, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
Precious Freyja. More beautiful than a storm itself and almost as dangerous. Still a mystery, though he vowed he would unearth the secrets of her power. One day. If she’d let him.
“Thanks to you.”
Color darkened her cheeks, and she finally met his gaze. This was when she was at her most beautiful. Both defiant and yet opening herself up to him. No longer holding him at arm’s length.
“You weren’t there when I awoke,” he said, taking a step toward her.
“Your cousin said you were a prince,” Freyja whispered, her hands turning white as she gripped the pitchfork. “Your people will not accept me, and I know you would stand between me and them to protect me. I cannot do that to you. You long for home, Rurik, and I will keep you from it. You long for your people, and I cannot join you there. I left as soon as I knew you were healing and your cousin was no longer a threat to you.”
“Is that not my choice?” he demanded, taking another step toward her. “I know the risks, and the dangers. And I accept them, for if I cannot have you, then what is the point in living? At every moment in our journey together, I have taken no more than you would allow. You wanted everything that happened between us to be your choice, and it was. So how can you deny me my right to make that choice now?”
“I love you, Rurik. And so, I must set you free.” He drew the memory from his subconscious and shared it with her, letting her feel all of the hurt he’d felt at such a decision.
“Do you know what it felt like to wake alone, without my Freyja?”
Freyja swallowed, and a single tear slid down her cheek. “I watched you almost die,” she croaked. “Because of me. You weakened yourself for me.”
“And I would do it all again, because you mean everything to me, Freyja. Everything.”
A look came over her face, as if the weight of his words finally sank in, as if Freyja finally accepted the inevitable truth. Their gazes clashed, and suddenly he knew he wasn’t the only one who felt that fire in his blood. Capturing her face in his hands, he pressed a kiss to her lips. Then another. The desire to claim her was nearly overwhelming, especially when she slid her hands up and down his chest, kneading the muscles there, then slowly filtering lower.
But she needed to know what the mating bond meant for her.
He’d promised her a choice in everything he did to her.
With a groan, Rurik withdrew from her, clasping her wrist and drawing her hand away from its devastating work before he could no longer think. He pressed his forehead to hers, breathing hard. “Freyja, Freyja, stop. Wait.”
“I don’t want to wait.” Her breath caressed his lips. “If I stop, I’ll start thinking, and I don’t want to think of all the reason this can’t work.”
Neither do I. Rurik bared his teeth in a snarl. “There’s something you need to know first.”
Those mismatched eyes opened and locked on his.
“This time will be different. There’s no coming back from this. I mean to claim you and take you as my mate,” he told her bluntly, breathing in her sweet, wild scent. His fingers brushed her cheeks, his body firm against hers as he pressed her against the stall door. “I’ve never felt this way before. You make me weak and mortal, and every instinct tells me you will be my undoing, but I can’t give you up. I can’t. I need to claim you.”
“Your undoing?” Freyja pushed past him, earning some breathing roo
m. Her eyes spat sparks as she stood in the center of the aisle, facing him down with her hands fisted at her sides. Tendrils of golden hair snaked around her face, tugged free from her braid.
And something sang within him. The same sensation he’d felt when she entered his lair the first time and faced him down. A pure exhilaration unlike any he’d ever known.
He’d known then she belonged to him, and he would have her. He’d thought he could burn the feeling out of his blood once he slaked this reckless thirst on her flesh.
What he hadn’t understood was that reaching out and merely tasting her fury would never be enough. He could never slake this thirst.
But the cost would be tremendous. Freyja weakened him, for suddenly, he had far too much to lose. Not himself. Not his people, or his court. But her. The one being who owned his heart.
“Yes,” he breathed, taking a step toward her. “My undoing.”
“And you’re mine,” she shot back, no longer retreating. “I am mortal. And this... whatever this is between us... has an expiration date.” Her expression suddenly turned entreating. “I have made some decisions in the last few days. I am no longer ashamed of what I am, nor will I ever hide from myself again. I am powerful and dangerous, and I... I love you. I know this now, but the practical side of my nature understands that loving you does not mean there are no more obstacles to surmount. You will not age, Rurik. And I will. Will you still love me when I am an old woman, and you are a young man? What of children? I’ve always yearned for them, deep in my secret heart, but your people will not accept my mating with you.”
Rurik reached for her, but she darted under his arm again, igniting all of his predatory impulses. “I speak of love, and she throws logic in my face.”
“One of us must be practical,” Freyja whispered, wrapping her arms around herself.
Rurik cupped her cheek, caressing her silken skin. “I used to think we had an ending too,” he whispered, sensing how much she wanted him to convince her there was a chance. “But I was wrong. There is no beginning or ending when it comes to us. The dreki speak of the other half of their soul, a being so twined together with theirs that when they find them, it is like realizing how empty you have always felt, and staring at the one being who completes you. You’re my twin flame, Freyja. You’re my forever. And I will rail against the stars themselves if they seek to part us.”
“I think the stars might be your undoing.”
He gave her a sleek, predatory smile. “Then you know nothing, little mouse. A dreki’s lifespan is tied to their twin flame. We will age together if you accept this mating bond. And as for children, if anyone dared touch ours then they would face my wrath. Perhaps the dreki need to accept a new world order. But lying with you tonight changes everything, Freyja. The last time our bodies met, I was not entirely certain what was happening to me. Now I do. I’m mating with you. Claiming you again completes that bond, and there is no going back from this point.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s your choice.”
Questions danced in her mismatched eyes, making her gaze distant. Rurik bit her lip. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
“That doubt in your eyes.”
Freyja swallowed, her eyes wary, as if he suddenly had the power to destroy her. “If I am your forever, then why would you call me your undoing?”
He brushed a strand of wheat-gold hair from her eyes, stroking it with a tenderness he’d never felt before he met her. It was a curious sensation. “Freyja, Magnus, and Andri didn’t just come here of their own accord. They were sent here by my mother to kill me. I told you once about my exile, and my mother.” A shudder ran through him. “Loving you weakens me. If my mother wants to strike at me, then now she has a means to do it. I would rip her throat out if she dared to harm you, but I don’t know if I can protect you. Not from an entire court of dreki who are loyal to my mother.” He finally exhaled, “You are my undoing, Freyja, but I am your destruction. They will kill you for loving me. You must know this.”
He could not keep the truth from her.
Even if it destroyed this fledgling hope that beat in his chest. A dream of a better existence. A promise he had been searching for, all his life.
Freyja frowned up at him. “They can try.”
“Freyja—”
“No,” she told him fiercely, pressing two fingers to his lips. “All my life I never dared yearn for more. And the one time when I could see my heart’s true desire was when you walked into my life, and I pushed you away because I feared the way you made me feel. You nearly died, Rurik. Because of me. But you didn’t. And in that moment I swore an oath to the gods, both old and new, that I would never turn my back on my fate ever again.”
“I owe my people a chance at freedom,” he said. “Andri wants me to challenge Stellan, and take my mother's throne.”
“Do you want your throne?”
His heart seized in his chest. It had been all his father ever dreamed of. Everything Rurik had been raised to reach for. But matched against Freyja, it was little more than a cold, stone throne, and a heartless court. “Not if I cannot have you. I love you.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “And I understand little the emotions that rage within me, but... I cannot give you up.”
“Then let them come,” she breathed. “I am not without my defenses, dreki-mine.”
His heart skipped a beat in his chest. “There are others who can take the throne. Others I trust.” His thumbs caressed her mouth. “But Andri is right. I cannot walk away from my people. I want to mate with you, but duty compels me to go to war for my people.”
“I love you,” she breathed, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “And your words terrify me. But I am done with fear. I am done with regret. And if your mother, or your uncle, or your fellow dreki try to come between us, then I will face them at your side.”
“Freyja.” He shuddered.
“I accept your bond,” she whispered. “Forever and ever, no matter who tries to tear us apart.”
A distant rumble of thunder echoed and he glanced to the walls, before looking back at her. Lightning danced in her eyes, the hum of power whispering through her veins.
Yes. His heart soared. This was just the beginning, and yet it was their beginning. He captured her mouth, his thumb stroking that wet tear from her cheek as he kissed her. “Everything and forever,” he breathed, tracing the corner of her mouth, his fingers delving into her silky hair.
Freyja’s tongue tangled with his. Fearless. Fierce. All the things that first ignited his curiosity. Her mouth brushed against his, and he tasted the violence of her power on her tongue. Mine. Rurik fought free of her hands and captured her around the waist, drawing her into his embrace. This woman could be a queen, if only his people could see the same things he did when he looked at her.
Breathing hard, with her breasts crushed against his chest, she let him plunder her mouth. Rurik felt his hard body melting into her soft curves. It was a kiss to tell her everything he felt in his heart. He wasn’t letting her go. Maybe he hadn’t been entirely certain of that when he came here, duty to his people warring within his breast, but seeing her now, having her skin beneath his, cemented his desire.
The court could wait. His uncle could wait. Freyja was his to claim, and without her there was no point in existing.
Suddenly, he could no longer withhold the heat of his need. The world reeled around them as he pushed her backward, hand sliding down her hips, then up, to the curve of her breasts, as if to make sure she was real. That she was really there, in his arms. He couldn’t get enough of her. Freyja’s back met the barn wall, and her mouth tilted to his as she claimed him with her hungry lips, her hand still fisted in his shirt.
Rurik dragged a handful of her skirts up between them, even as her hand slid down to caress his erection through the thin fabric of his trousers. Cupping her thigh, he dragged it up to nestle around his hip, thrusting into her hand. The shock of that touch lanced through him. Sweet godd
ess, but he’d yearned for this. To see Freyja boldly take what she wanted from his body, as if there was no longer any barrier between her heart and his. To curl those fingers around his hard length and work him, as if she wanted to imprint the feel of him on her skin.
Biting back a gasp, Rurik thrust his cock into her hand, rubbing against her touch. A desperate ache filled him. He wanted to be inside her. Now. To claim her and fulfill their mating bond, so she could never, ever be taken from him.
His fingers found her, wet and slick. He didn’t know if it was his hands that freed his cock from his trousers—or hers. But he grabbed her under the ass and lifted her, impaling her with a single thrust.
“Mine.”
Her thought-thread connected with his. “I claim you, Rurik, prince of my heart.”
“And I claim you.”
Power spilled between them as the mating bond roared to life. A strangled sound tore from his throat as the heat within him suddenly flared volcanic. The world faded. All that remained was him and Freyja, and her tight little body clutching at his as he thrust home. One. Last. Time.
Pleasure roared through him, and he could feel her match him as the mating bond took them both over the edge. Freyja cried out, throwing her head back as they rode the storm. Sweet Goddess. Rurik sank his teeth into her throat, rocking into her hard, grinding his hips against hers as his seed flooded within her.
Their minds danced against each other, until he no longer existed as Rurik, nor she as Freyja, but both blended as one. White-hot pleasure obliterated all else, until slowly sensation began to return; Freyja’s hand cradling his nape, her face nuzzling against his throat as little aftershocks ran through her. Rurik turned his face and found her mouth, kissing her with slow affection. His. Finally his. Utterly and irrevocably. He gasped against her lips, completely spent.
Freyja’s skirts fell around her thighs. Slowly she looked up, her eyes heavy-lidded and a lazy, satisfied smile on her face. “Everything and forever.”
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