She narrowed her eyes.
His wife? Bjorn had a wife?
What the hell?
Why hadn’t Megan mentioned that? Why hadn’t Bjorn? Oh right, he was Viking and thought it was okay to lust after her while he was married. Sam ignored the hot rage that flared within and kept her tone light. “Well, I think your Uncle Bjorn was probably very wise recommending as much.”
“Thank you.” Håkon pulled her after him but not before Sam narrowed her eyes on Bjorn. At least he had the decency to look troubled. But that didn’t mean he was sorry. This was Bjorn after all and moody was his middle name.
“Just a little bit further now,” Håkon said before they exited the tunnel and entered an all-too-familiar cave.
“See, Uncle Bjorn attached the tunnel to his lair so if I get lonely, I can come here.” There was no mistaking the love in Håkon’s eyes when he looked at Bjorn. “Uncle has been much like a father to me.”
Samantha’s insides twisted. One minute she wanted to strangle Bjorn, the next she wanted to hug him for being so damn sweet.
“Ah, there you are, Håkon,” Veronica said from the doorway. “I thought you might have been showing Samantha your tunnel.” She held out her hand. “Come, Grandson, it is time to eat.”
Samantha got the strangest feeling that Veronica knew precisely when to appear. That she knew tensions were rising between Sam and Bjorn. But then, she obviously knew about those carvings which meant Sam now knew about Bjorn’s wife.
Håkon nodded and wrapped his arms around Bjorn before he smiled at Sam then joined Veronica.
The minute they left, Samantha planted her hands on her hips and glared. “So when were you planning on telling me you were married, Bjorn? Before or after you screwed me?”
God, she was sick of men and their lying ways.
“Screw you?”
“Sex, Bjorn. Sex.” Sam made a flippant gesture with her hand. “Because my guess is afterward.” Her eyes widened. “Or were you hoping to take a second wife too?”
He frowned. “No.”
“So just casual sex then?” She shook her head. “A little side dish your wife doesn’t know about?”
She stopped him before he could question the phrase side dish, spun on her heel and started for the door, throwing over her shoulder, “I’m no longer your prisoner so I’m outta here. Go find someone else to cheat on your wife with.”
“Stop right there, Samantha,” Bjorn growled, his voice low. “Now.”
Figure the odds. She was done playing an ignorant slave to a man she no longer wanted to know better. The game was over.
“Hell no,” she said under her breath and was nearly to the door when something started to change. Frustrated, she tried to keep walking, but her legs grew heavier and heavier. As if bricks were attached to her feet. Baffled, she turned, only to find his dragon eyes locked on her.
Seconds later, she realized why.
“Run, Samantha. Get out of here!” Bjorn roared into her mind.
That, however, was the last thing she did when the enemy appeared behind Bjorn in human form. Not dead but very much alive.
An indescribable feeling filled her.
Power.
Joy.
As if she had found a long lost lover.
Sam didn’t hesitate.
She raced right into the enemy’s welcoming arms.
Chapter Seven
FROZEN, CAUGHT IN the enemy’s unnatural power, Bjorn had never been more confused.
Or impressed.
Though he would have sworn to Valhalla and back he had seen unabashed love in Samantha’s eyes when she looked at the enemy, he must have been mistaken. Because when she dashed past, she lifted Bjorn’s blade.
The Gungnir.
Not that she knew what it was. Or so he assumed until she didn’t stab the enemy with it but held it between them, grinning. “See what I got, love? Something special.”
A sly smile formed on the man’s face as his eyes dropped to the blade and his hand slithered onto her backside. “Do you know what to do with it, pet?”
When Samantha’s eyes turned Bjorn’s way, something unfamiliar stirred in his soul. While it was one thing to see her beneath the power of the blade when she was under his control, it was another entirely to see it now. When she was in the enemy’s arms.
Yet Bjorn still had control over her, didn’t he?
“Get away from him, Samantha,” Bjorn ordered, grateful he at least had the ability to speak.
“Yes, Samantha, get away from me,” the man agreed but not before he dug his hand into her hair, yanked her head back and closed his lips over hers.
Bjorn clenched his jaw and worked to repress his dragon’s rage at the sight. A sense of possession he wanted nothing to do with. Or so he kept telling himself. She released a throaty moan and returned the kiss before the enemy gradually pulled back, his eyes glowing red. Bjorn knew what that meant. His dragon was equally interested in her.
“Now go take care of him, pet,” the man murmured. “Show me that you are ready to join me.”
In a complete daze, she nodded and headed Bjorn’s way. Her eyes were shimmering hazel, the dragon barely there. She was completely under the control of the blade and perhaps even the enemy. Samantha stopped in front of him and looked him over as though he was a rare treat. Not lustful in the least, but eager to see him fall…to watch him die.
“Bjorn,” she murmured and sidled closer, a small, tepid smile on her face. “Yet another man who does nothing but lie. Yet another man who doesn’t know how to keep his dick in his pants.”
“I do not want to lie with you, Samantha,” he reminded. He knew full well she wasn’t herself but wondered if he could get through to her. “I told you that many times.”
“You did,” she agreed as her fingers curled up beneath his tunic. “But I didn’t believe you.” Samantha’s hand wandered down to an arousal he couldn’t fight if he wanted to. Her eyes met his. “And I still don’t.”
Though it was the last thing he wanted to say, the last thing he felt was her business, he told her the truth.
“I’m not married, Samantha,” he said softly. “Not anymore.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Enough bantering, pet,” the enemy said. “Get it done so that we can go.”
“And where is it, exactly, you think you’re going,” came a threatening voice from the cave entrance.
Uncle Raknar.
“Because it’s not away from here,” Uncle Kol said, circling in from the other side. “At least not alive.”
“Never alive,” Tait agreed, joining his father.
Kodran remained silent, his eyes narrowed as he entered through Håkon’s tunnel.
“Oh look, Bjorn,” Samantha purred, still pressed against him. She taunted him with one hand while running the blade up his side with the other. “Everyone’s coming to your rescue.”
When they glanced at Samantha with confusion, he spoke into his kins’ mind. “Leave her be. Focus on the enemy.”
Though he knew they wanted to lash out and end the man quickly, they also needed answers. Who was he in league with? What gods specifically? Had they been the ones who saved him at the Fortress? What were their intentions?
The man chuckled and eyed the Sigdir’s as Samantha kept a hand on Bjorn’s cock and played with the blade. Never had he been in an odder situation. But then this was Samantha so he shouldn’t be surprised. Under the influence of magic or not, drama seemed to follow her.
“Allow me to finally introduce myself.” The man made a flourish with his hand as he bowed from the waist. “My name is Hallstein ‘the wise’ and I descend from Bard. As it was from the beginning, my lineage is at war with yours.” His eyes deepened to dark red as he sized up his opponents. “That has not changed since the beginning of dragonkind on Midgard and will not.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Kol growled and unsheathed his sword. �
�You will pay for what you did to my brother.”
“A thousand times over,” Raknar said, an ax swinging in his hand as he edged closer.
“Yet more old dragons.” Hallstein yawned and crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes skirting between Tait and Kodran. “I would much rather fight your offspring.”
Samantha continued her slow assault on Bjorn, dragging the blade down his neck as she pressed her body against his in ways that made it harder and harder to concentrate. Not to mention how well she was manipulating his arousal even through his pants. Damn woman. He needed her gone. Safely away from what he hoped was about to happen.
Their enemy’s annihilation.
Four dragon-shifters against one seemed like good odds. The only potential problem? The enemy’s godly blood.
“Samantha,” Bjorn managed, whispering in her ear. “I order you to get out of here. To go to safety.”
“Enough with this. Now is not the time to fight but for us to reunite, my love,” Hallstein said to Samantha, not threatened in the least by the men but by what she was doing to Bjorn. “Time to go. End him now, Maeva.”
Who was Maeva? Clearly Samantha as far as Hallstein was concerned.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Tait roared before he rushed at Hallstein.
The enemy pulled out a sword and clashed blades, amused as he barely paid attention to Tait and remained focused on Samantha. “Now, Maeva.”
Furious, Bjorn remained unable to move as his kin attacked. Yet it seemed a pointless battle as they only got so close. If anything, crossing blades with him was something Hallstein grudgingly allowed to amuse himself. While as angered as his brethren, Bjorn remembered too well Heidrek’s warning about how exceptionally dangerous this man was.
“Now where was that spot again?” Samantha whispered, eying Bjorn from beneath thick dark red lashes as she dragged the tip of the blade down his side. “Ah…” she stopped at the spot he had shown her before. The area that would kill him. “There it is.”
Swords clanged. Men grunted. All hell broke loose around them, but Bjorn kept his eyes with hers. He tried to see past the influence of whatever controlled her and speak to the woman inside. Though he suspected she might be possessed by this Maeva character, he used Samantha’s name to try to bring her back. To make her remember who she was. “Yes, you found it, Samantha. Right there where I showed you.” His voice softened. “Right where you decided not to stab me before because you knew it was wrong.”
“No, I was weak,” she said through clenched teeth. “But I’m not anymore.”
An arrow sailed by his head before the enemy laughed and swords continued to clash.
“There is nothing weak about deciding not to hurt someone, Samantha.” Grateful he could turn his neck, he brought his mouth closer to her ear. “There is nothing weak about not giving into violence.”
“I didn’t. I wouldn’t,” she replied, suddenly sounding like herself as her eyes met his. “Not even when he broke my heart.”
Bjorn searched her eyes. Samantha was in there somewhere and trying to surface. If it took her former husband to make that happen, very well. “There is courage in not acting on your emotions, Samantha,” he murmured. “A courage you seem to possess a great deal of.”
“Do I,” she whispered. “Because it doesn’t feel that way.”
“But it’s true,” he said. “You stand up against what you feel is wrong, do you not, Samantha? You fight not with weapons but words and actions.”
He conveniently made no mention of her attacks on Vigdis earlier.
“I do.” She nodded, confused as her eyes went back and forth between being possessed and who she really was. “Just like I stood up to you.” Her eyes narrowed on him as whatever inside her seemed to grab hold again. “Because you’re a cheating bastard just like him.”
“Now, Maeva,” Hallstein called out as he fought. “I grow bored.”
Samantha was dwindling away as whatever possessed her took control.
“As do I, my love,” Samantha whispered to Hallstein as her eyes stayed with Bjorn and she gripped the blade more securely. “Very bored.”
Bjorn knew before she did it that the blade was going to find its mark. And though tempted to look at his brethren as they fought not only Hallstein but tried to get closer to him, he just couldn’t do it.
He wanted to look into her eyes as everything came to an end.
Shocked, Bjorn realized he wanted her to be the last thing he saw.
So when she slid the blade in, he clenched his jaw against the excruciating pain and held her gaze. He searched for her in those turbulent hazel eyes so full of hatred…and found her. As red skirted his vision and his inner dragon struggled to survive, he saw the sadness deep within. The well of pain she had long learned to hide. The suffering she silently endured not only because of her dragon but because of Rick. And there was something else, someone, but he wasn’t sure who.
“Samantha,” he whispered as the enemy’s magic released him and he fell to his knees. “I am sorry.”
He heard the roars of his kin at his defeat but it all became distant background noise as his eyes held Samantha’s. There was nothing else to say. Nothing else to feel but this. Sadness. A sense of loss and regret. What struck him odd as everything fell away was that he had no idea if they were his thoughts or hers.
Yet he knew one thing.
Samantha was inside him somehow.
Her dragon was there.
“Bjorn,” Samantha whispered moments before she fell to her knees and flung her arms around him. He could no longer feel himself let alone her, but he was grateful to have her there. Grateful that she had been the one to end him.
To finally put him out of his misery.
Somewhere far in the back of his mind he heard Heidrek roar in denial then maybe even his own father, but both soon faded as did the world around him.
Darkness fell.
All went silent.
Bjorn peered through the blackness but couldn’t see anything. Where were the glorious gates of Valhalla? Where was Odin? Had he been forsaken?
“Oh, God, what did I do?” came a panicked voice. “Can you hear me?” Someone slapped his face. “Bjorn, it’s me, Samantha. Can you hear me?”
Loki’s Hel, the woman had followed him straight into the afterlife. What was worse? He was happy about it. Happier than any man whose killer had just trailed him beyond life should be.
“C’mon,” she said over and over, pressing then pounding on his chest. “Get your moody ass back to me already.” Panic laced her words as she kept pounding on him. “Please, Bjorn. Please.”
Why was she so upset? Wasn’t she happy he was dead so she could run off with her...
Bjorn’s vision suddenly cleared when he remembered she had been possessed. That the enemy might have somehow gotten his hands on her.
“Stop, Samantha.” He grabbed her wrists. Her hair was wilder than normal and her eyes round saucers as she straddled him. Thankful he had use of his limbs, he took inventory of their surroundings.
“Oh, thank God you’re awake,” Samantha said.
Bjorn kept eying the area. It looked familiar. Near his homeland to be sure based on the towering pines protected by the mountains. Not all areas were afforded such protection. The trees were far shorter and sparse. But not these. They were majestic and regal, a towering wall between him and…that’s when he knew.
Valhalla wasn’t drinking in golden halls with Odin.
No, it was Loki’s Hel on Midgard.
“Are you okay?” Samantha said, still straddling him as she looked him over.
“I am,” he murmured, setting her aside as he sat up then clenched his midriff. That’s when he remembered. Gungnir’s blade. And Samantha stabbing him. He glanced down, expecting to find blood but found nothing.
Not even a tear in his clothing.
He lifted his tunic and studied the skin. No abrasion. Nothing but slight bruising.
“It didn�
�t,” Samantha started. “I didn’t mean,” she stuttered and gestured to the blade cushioned in the pine needles beside them. “I thought I stabbed you, but I didn’t.” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry. I never would have…though I did…I think.” Her eyes met his. “I’m sorry, Bjorn. I don’t know what happened…but I’m still sorry.”
“You were under the influence of magic,” he grunted as he pocketed the blade and pulled her to her feet. When the world swayed as they tried to get their balance, she gripped his arms, and he touched her hip.
“What magic?” she murmured.
When their eyes met, he was tempted to tell her the truth. Honesty she deserved. But something about the look in her eyes, the vulnerability and confusion, changed his mind. “I am not entirely sure.”
“Yes you are,” she said softly. “Just tell me.” Her eyes searched his. “If there’s one thing I like about you, Bjorn, it’s that you don’t sugarcoat the truth. So don’t start now.”
She was right. He did not. And she deserved the truth. Yet he found himself giving it to her to a lesser degree. A half-truth some might call it. “The enemy was inside your mind again, Samantha.”
Her brows flew together in confusion, but she smoothed them quickly. “He was?”
Bjorn didn’t miss the slight quiver of her voice or the way she stood up straighter as if standing up against something she couldn’t see.
“He was,” Bjorn confirmed as he eyed the sky. It was late day and at this altitude, colder than what she was used to. They had no cloaks so would have to find shelter soon or suffer a very uncomfortable night. Their dragon blood wouldn’t allow them to freeze, but they would grow sluggish and discombobulated.
And one thing they couldn’t afford in this area was confusion or slow reflexes.
Because this was enemy territory.
“We need to leave.” He started walking. “Follow me, woman.”
“No.”
“Now,” he ordered and continued, stopping when she didn’t obey.
When he turned, she had her arms crossed over her chest. “It never worked, Bjorn.”
His eyes narrowed. “What never worked?”
She nodded at the Gungnir. “The dagger. I’m not sure why you think it’s connected to me, but I can tell you for sure that you don’t have control over me.”
Vengeance of a Viking (The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors' Kin Book 2) Page 10
