A second chance? He had no idea what to make of that until Katla screamed. Agnar was yanking her away by the hair. Images of the king’s brother flashed through his mind. Of the cruelty she had suffered at that man’s hands. At the cruelty she must suffer beneath this ones.
“Not this time,” he said softly as he followed them within a memory.
Though he knew it was still the present, all he could see was the past as he relived it.
He felt his son’s fear and Katla’s eagerness as she searched out her new lover. He flapped his wings and flew as fast as he could, desperate to get to them, to bring them home.
Then he spied them below in his mind’s eye. Sven’s head hung as he walked into an unknown future. Ripped from his kin, his tribe, only to start a new life. Now Bjorn wondered, caught in his memory, how different might it have gone had he kept flying? If he just let them go? But he hadn’t. And he wouldn’t. No matter how many times he revisited this.
Nothing would change the fury he felt at seeing his son hit.
Nothing would change the need to try to fix this. To make things right.
He would fight every last man down there until his death to get them back. To get Sven back. And so he roared rage down upon them. Or at least he thought he did until his dragon released him and he became not a powerful beast but a desperate, furious man. The dragon couldn’t fully grasp his rash actions and his inability to see reason so it shrunk back.
It had not given him strength at his weakest moment.
And though it never abandoned him, it wondered about him. How noble and steadfast in the face of devastation he truly was. Could he ever see past this? Was he capable of opening his heart again? Or would this destroy him?
And as he so recently learned, that was why he was more susceptible to the enemy’s dart.
Why he lost his dragon and almost died at the gorge.
Because his dragon didn’t entirely trust him. And there was nothing more humbling and daunting than to realize he had nearly lost half of himself. More than that? He was about to lose far more if he didn’t open his eyes and see clearly.
If he didn’t let go of the past.
Bjorn narrowed his eyes as he snapped back to the present, and strode after Agnar and Katla, growling, “I will not let it happen again. Never again.”
Agnar had no chance to draw a weapon before Bjorn lunged at him and they hit the ground. They rolled once, twice, before Bjorn pinned him down, ripped the Gungnir blade from his hand and wedged it tight against his throat. As he held the blade to his neck, he didn’t see Agnar but his brother. The man who convinced Katla to flee so long ago.
The man who tore Bjorn’s life apart.
His eyes held Agnar’s for a long moment before they drifted to Katla then past her to a little boy. His son. Sven. Watching him. Waiting to see what he would do…waiting to see if he would save them this time.
Bjorn didn’t hesitate but kept his eyes on his son as he swiped the blade across Agnar’s neck then thrust it up under his chin into his skull. His eyes never left Sven’s as warm blood poured over his hand and the boy became a man. Their gazes held for several long moments before his son nodded, turned and vanished into the forest.
Bjorn hung his head and breathed deeply.
This was the beginning. There was hope. Sven was not lost to him entirely.
“Cousin,” came a voice as a hand fell on his shoulder. “Brother.”
Not ready to lift his head, his heart heavy with too many emotions, he nodded in thanks. “Heidrek.”
Bjorn stayed that way for some time as he let the past pour away as readily as Agnar’s blood soaked into the ground. He knew Samantha was well. That she had worked magic and made sure Sven realized what she was doing. Hel, she had made this moment happen. She not only forced his son to embrace his dragon but forced Bjorn to face his past…and to let it go.
Heidrek never left his side but crouched and waited.
When Bjorn’s eyes finally lifted and met his cousin’s, Heidrek nodded and murmured, “It is in the past now, is it not?”
“It is,” Bjorn confirmed, feeling lighter than he had in years.
“Good.” Heidrek stood and held out his hand. “Then come home, Cousin. I miss you. We all do.”
Bjorn took his hand and stood, eying the carnage. Heidrek pulled the blade free and handed it over. “For your son?” When he hesitated to take it, his cousin offered another alternative. “Or for your woman?”
Bjorn grunted his approval, took the bloodied blade then embraced his dragon. While tempted to char the body then drop it into the heart of Agnar’s kingdom he would not do that. The people meant too much to him, and that might leave them in unrest wondering who would take charge next. Instead, he caught the mind of the only warrior who escaped the slaughter and gave him a message. Or a memory as far as the man would recall when he retold it.
Agnar was dead as were the vast majority of his warriors.
It was time for a new leader.
It was time to embrace Heidrek as the king of the region and Katla as their new matriarch under Heidrek’s rule. Time to embrace an allied peace with their neighboring kingdom, the Sigdir clan. A new enemy was on the horizon and strength would be found in numbers and strong alliances. All would agree. And all loved Katla. More than that, they loved Sven.
Bjorn had been paying attention. He knew his son cared for the people just as much as he did. He often speculated that was half the reason Sven had done all of this. Not for the Sigdir’s or their new enemy but because of the squalor of his kingdom. The hardship under which the people suffered.
“Sunrise comes,” Heidrek said into his mind. “We must go.”
Bjorn nodded, inhaled and released the past one last time as his fire rained down on Agnar’s body. Now it was finished. Now it was time to start over. He watched the charred ashes dissipate on the wind then launched into the air after Heidrek.
Eager to return home, he reveled in the feel of sailing alongside his cousin over the ocean. Things were still very unpredictable and dangerous but at least they had secured one border. At least they would be able to help the people.
Katla would.
She would finally take her proper place. A position she had long deserved. That thought firmly in mind, he coasted toward the Fortress, eager to reunite with everyone…only to see the last thing he expected. People were lined up on the shore and docks. Perhaps they already knew of the defeat and were gathered to cheer Heidrek’s victory. But no, their expressions were too somber.
That’s when he spied Sven.
He had a single, fire-ridden arrow notched at the sea.
Confused, Bjorn’s eyes drifted to the boat inlaid with flowers and offerings as it bobbed on the water. This was a death rite. Someone was passing on to Valhalla.
Bjorn swooped low as his son’s fiery arrow flew by him and lodged in the boat. There was no time to react. No time to question. The wind was strong, and the boat burst into flames quickly.
Confused, enraged, sad, he had no choice but to watch as Sven said goodbye to his mother…
And Katla burned into the sea.
Chapter Sixteen
THE MINUTE BJORN shifted and landed, Sam came at him. If she didn’t, she knew he was going to fly off the handle. Before he had a chance to react, she shoved him right off the end of the dock and dove after him.
As soon as he crashed underwater, she came face to face with him, put a finger to her lips, shook her head and spoke through the mind. “Here’s your story. Your dragon was overheated and enraged by Katla’s death. I knew it so I pushed you in before you could overreact.” Her eyes widened as her hair floated around them, caught in underwater suspension. “Not a far-fetched idea considering how hot-headed you can be.”
Bjorn frowned at her. Based on the look in his eyes he was far beyond hot-headed and downright furious. She could have told him everything telepathically before he landed but wanted a few moments alone with him. Besides, she owed him
an unexpected dip in the ocean after what he pulled vanishing beneath the water back home and scaring the wits out of her.
“Calm down, that wasn’t Katla,” she continued. “The real reason I pushed you in was so I had a chance to explain things before you spoke aloud and people heard you.” Sam started swimming underwater. “Follow me.”
Hell, all she wanted to do was kiss the life right out of him. Be there for him. But she couldn’t fault his confusion or his strong emotions. He needed the truth.
Sam was still reeling over everything that had happened. How close everyone had come to dying. But he had a plan. And she had one too.
Who knew it would all work out so well. If that’s what you wanted to call it.
They surfaced beneath the dock, and he held the post, trapping her body between the sea and the wood as his eyes narrowed. “Tell me what is happening.”
Sam worked to keep her eyes on his rather than admire the entirety of his face yet again. Where she fully expected a horrible scar when his beard was gone, it wasn’t nearly that bad. She saw where the blade had cut him, but it was faded and dull and didn’t take away from how hot he was. If anything it added a dangerous appeal.
She knew why he had shaved. Because he wanted Sven to see him as he was. He wanted his son to know it was time to confront the past. To make amends.
“Samantha,” he growled. “Tell me.”
Sam braced her hands on his shoulders and kept her eyes locked with his. While tempted to sugarcoat it and soften the blow, she figured that boat had sailed when he saw his son shoot a burning arrow at his dead ex-wife’s canoe. So she decided to be blunt. “Katla doesn’t want to be in charge, Bjorn. She needs a break.”
Confused, Bjorn frowned before his eyes shot to the fire in the distance. “I don’t understand. So she’s truly not dead?”
“No.” Samantha kept her expression neutral but watched him closely. “She’s waiting at your place for you.”
His eyes met hers. “She is at my lodge?”
“Yes,” Sam confirmed. “Not your new one but your old one.”
“It is but a cottage,” he murmured.
“I know, I saw it,” she said softly. “It’s beautiful.”
And it was. Though far smaller than his current lodge, he had put a great deal of workmanship into it. The same devotion he poured into the bigger place. Carvings of dragons, oceans, and mountainous landscapes. The only difference between the two was the amount of dragons. Where the cottage seemed to dabble in the idea, the larger lodge was clearly an obsession. A shrine almost.
Of her.
Samantha.
The sweeping curves carved into the beams far overhead. The arches and angles of the walls and floorboards. It was all part of serpentine bodies.
Mostly hers. Some of his.
Now that she could see through dragon eyes, Samantha realized that his lodge was more his dragon lair than his cave. It was where he expressed himself through carpentry and craftsmanship.
It was where he searched for her.
Where his dreams manifested in his work.
“We should go back soon,” Sam murmured, following his every thought. His every worry. “She wants to say goodbye.”
Bjorn nodded but said nothing. He was conflicted, and she understood. She would be too if their situations were reversed. About to tell him as much, her words caught when he yanked her close, wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and kissed her.
It was hard and soft all at once. Desperate and gentle at the same time.
Then it was gone.
Samantha tried to catch her breath as he vanished beneath the water and swam inland. She didn’t blame him for being in a rush to see Katla. To make sure she was okay. Every step of the way, Sam had been there in his mind. She understood his plan. How he intended to fool the enemy, then destroy him. How he intended to save all those he cared about.
So she orchestrated her own plan to compliment his. To draw out Sven. Make him embrace his dragon. Then make all of them, Bjorn, Katla, and Sven, relive their past…and find each other again.
Forgive.
When she waded out of the ocean, Cybil was waiting to wrap a fur around her shoulders. Though they hadn’t had a lot of time to talk since she returned, her sister was caught up on everything that had happened.
“Thanks for the fur but it’s not needed, Sis,” Sam murmured. “I can dry myself with magic now.”
She had grown leaps and bounds. Almost as if her dragon was guiding her.
“I know you can.” Cybil linked arms with her as they walked. “But why do it yourself when you like the way Bjorn warms you so much?”
“Because…” she started but trailed off, her thoughts on the way he had wrapped his arms around her after their rowboat excursion. Something that happened only days ago but felt like a lifetime. Then she thought about all he had been through. What he was dealing with at this moment. “He’s got enough going on right now.”
Though it didn’t feel nearly as good, she dried herself with a murmur. She didn’t want to depend on Bjorn to make her feel better or complete and she sure as hell didn’t want him to feel that about her.
Yet she wondered…was that already the case for both of them?
“As soon as I know everything’s okay, I’m gonna head back home.” Sam ignored the strange looks she’d been receiving since she arrived. “Megan needs me.”
“I know,” Cybil said, her tone tempered…careful. “But she isn’t the only one who needs you, Sam.”
She didn’t look at her sister.
She couldn’t.
Now that she had embraced her dragon, Sam knew what Cybil was seeking. What she hoped for. She wanted Samantha to stay. To be part of this new life in tenth-century Scandinavia.
“You’re right, but you’re wrong.” Clearly having read her mind, Cybil stopped her, clutched her shoulders and looked her dead in the eyes. “I’ll always want you to stay, Sam. I love you…” she bit back emotion, “so much.” Then she swallowed the emotion and stood up straighter, becoming more and more a queen. “Nothing’s going to stop what’s unraveling here. Our family lineage coming to light. The Sigdir’s. The enemy’s. How we’re all interconnected.” She held Sam’s shoulders more firmly. “We’re in this together. You, me, our sisters. It’s time to accept we’re all part of this tenth-century reality.” She gave Sam a pointed look. “And we’re all fated to be with a Sigdir.”
“I know,” Sam whispered, having so recently said the same thing to Lauren. “It’s just a lot... right now.”
Cybil nodded. “It is. But we’re tough.” She searched Sam’s eyes and smiled. “Especially you.”
“Tough enough,” Sam murmured, not feeling all that strong at the moment.
“Yes, you are.” Cybil squeezed her shoulders and kept her eyes locked on Samantha’s. “I’m really proud of you, Sam. You’ve impressed not only me but everyone here. They know you brought Megan to the future for treatment. And they know what you did for Bjorn and his family.”
Sam nodded but gave no response.
“We need to work together with these Vikings and figure out how our bloodline fits into all this,” Cybil continued. “We need to figure out our part in this war and how we can best help.”
Samantha agreed yet wondered. What was her role? Was she a medium between the past and future? Between her sisters and the dragons they were meant to be with? She didn’t realize she’d voiced her speculations until Cybil responded.
“Yes, I think you are.” Her sister cupped Samantha’s cheeks. “You’re a Gateway Seer, Sam. That’s amazing, and I know it’s going to be useful in all of this. My bet is it’ll be safer than using the Yggdrasill.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” Sam shook her head. “Right now, I’m the weak link. The reason the enemy can locate us and harm not only our sisters but the Sigdir’s. More than that, I’m not all that accurate with my time traveling techniques.”
“But you will be,” Cybil
assured. “Like me, you’ve got to keep practicing. Focus. It’ll come to you.”
“Not much time to practice considering I shouldn’t be doing it,” Sam reminded.
Cybil cocked her head as though she was considering Sam’s words but she knew better. Her sister was listening to Heidrek within the mind. His advice and thoughts. They had become a formidable team in a very short time.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Cybil murmured. “Things never work out quite like we expect them to.” She gestured at the Fortress then pulled Sam after her. “Come on. Magically drying yourself aside, you need a warm bath and a change of clothes. Then we’ll join everyone in the main lodge. The clan is celebrating Katla’s safe passage to Valhalla, and you need to take a break from all this.”
Sam had little time to talk to her sister after that because she got called away. What did Cybil mean by maybe or maybe not? Did she know something Sam didn’t? That thought amongst many stayed with her as she bathed then entered the main lodge later, taken aback by the festivities. Vikings didn’t mourn death but saw it as a stepping stone to a better place. Something to be celebrated.
Though Cybil pressed a horn of ale into her hand and urged her to stay close, Sam wandered. Her sister was too distracted to talk much, and Samantha needed space. Time alone to mull things over. Fires burned from bowls hung from the ceiling and musicians played a low, heady beat. Despite the celebration, she felt disconnected. She had no interest in swaying her hips or talking to people and trying to make their lives better.
All she wanted to do was drift.
The truth was all she wanted to do was see Bjorn. To be with him.
“It is good to see you again, Sam,” Matthew said as he joined her. There was no mistaking the concern in his eyes. “How fare my kin at the Dragon Lair? How is Håkon?”
Though she suspected he had already been told, she replied, “They’re good. He’s good.” She embraced him then met his eyes. “I enjoyed getting to know him. He’s a little sweetheart, Matthew.”
“It is hard being separated…” he started but trailed off as his brows furrowed. “I will be glad once we are all together again.”
Vengeance of a Viking (The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors' Kin Book 2) Page 23
