Tales of the Valkyries

by Asa Maria Bradley, Gina Conkle, Lisa Hendrix, Anna Markland, Emma Prince, Harper St. George

  A sudden idea took root. “Then stay with your ship,” he blurted, “but help me escape.”

  Her dark eyebrows arched in surprise. “What do you mean?”

  “Help me sail out of here, captain,” he said. “I’ll go wherever you’re going without complaint or challenge.”

  Bára’s green eyes glittered in the dim light, but then she hesitated. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?” He didn’t mean to snap at her, but his time was draining quickly.

  “Because I don’t have a crew!” she shot back, frustration cutting into her voice. She dragged in a steadying breath before speaking again. “This is a three-man ship. Do you remember that I told you my day yesterday was straight out of Hel’s realm? When we arrived on Orkneyjar last morn, my two crewmen threatened to abandon me, despite the fact that I’ve paid them for another fortnight’s worth of labor. Apparently they decided that they could no longer stand to take orders from a woman.”

  She spat out the last words bitterly.

  “Where are they this morn?” Ulfarr asked.

  “It appears as though they’ve made good on their promise to leave me high and dry. We were supposed to set sail at dawn, but they haven’t shown their sorry faces yet.”

  She waved toward the hull’s opening and Ulfarr realized that the sun’s rays had cracked the horizon to the east. He rose on his toes and dared another peek at Jarl Brunn’s men. They had begun stomping up the deck nearest them.

  “I can sail this ship with you,” Ulfarr said, taking Bára’s shoulders in his hands. “With you at the tiller guiding our way, I can work the sails alone. Between us, we can do this.”

  She licked her lips, spending precious seconds considering his words.

  “I’ve been sailing since before I could walk, Bára,” he insisted, desperately wracking his mind for words to reassure her.

  “It’s not that I doubt your abilities—or mine,” she replied. “But this is my ship. I am the captain. I’ll not be gainsaid by another man, Ulfarr the Almighty Captain Since Before He Could Walk or nei.”

  Realization cut like an axe through his panic-clouded thoughts. Ja, Bára was tough, capable, and unyielding. But those traits were just like the calluses on her hands—they’d been formed over the years through pain, struggle, and hard work.

  He dropped to one knee before her, just as young lads did when they took oaths of fealty before their Jarls, and just as crewmen did to their captains before setting out for their first voyage.

  “I vow my loyalty to you, Bára, captain of Aegir’s Daughter. I will defend you and this ship with my life. I will obey your orders unquestioningly, and lend you every bit of my strength and skill.”

  Though she likely would have denied it if he’d pressed, he saw first surprise and then pride fill Bára’s emerald eyes. They clouded with moisture for the briefest moment before she blinked and resumed her steady gaze.

  “Rise,” she said. “I’ll need your help unfurling the sail if we are to get you away from here in one piece.”

  As he stood and prepared to cautiously ease himself from the cargo hold, she caught his arm.

  “Thank you for that,” she said softly.

  “Although I am happy to give you my pledge of fealty, I would have thought last night was indication enough that I’m willing to cede control to you.” He flashed her his most devastating grin and hoisted himself onto the little ship’s deck before she could form a retort.

  The gunwales were just high enough to hide him from view as Jarl Brunn’s men searched the last of the ships one dock over.

  “I’ll unmoor us,” Bára whispered, suddenly crouched at his side. “You get ready to unfurl the sail. We’ll only have one chance, for once the sail is up, we’ll be spotted quickly.”

  At his nod, she slipped by him, more silent and sure-footed than a cat. As she unlooped the lines connecting the ship to the dock, he found the rope that would raise the sail from where it lay folded neatly on the deck.

  Gripping the rope tightly in his fists, he held his breath as the sound of boots on their dock drew nearer. At last, Bára dropped the final line onto the deck and crawled toward the back of the ship where the tiller sat.

  “…nothing in this one either, Jarl.” The voice was nigh on top of them now.

  “You six men, search the remaining boats. The rest follow me into the village. That pig-shite captain has to be here somewhere.” Jarl Brunn’s voice was thick with anger even as he panted from the short distance he’d walked.

  Boots scraped against wood as more warriors strode toward them. Long shadows wrought by the rising sun suddenly fell across the deck, landing on Ulfarr where he crouched behind the gunwale.

  Just then, a stiff breeze whipped up, coming from the village and swirling across the ship out toward the open water.

  Now!

  Ulfarr yanked with all his might against the rope. The sail suddenly jerked up, ballooning with the fortuitous breeze.

  The little ship shot away from the dock like an arrow, darting swiftly across the water’s surface.

  Chaos erupted on the dock behind them, but they’d already put a stone’s throw of distance between themselves and Jarl Brunn’s confused warriors, who stood rooted in place.

  “After them!” Jarl Brunn’s furious shout drifted from land as he waved wildly for his warriors to rush to his longship on the opposite side of the docks.

  “Can you outmaneuver them if they give chase?” he shot over his shoulder to Bára as he adjusted the sail to catch even more wind.

  Without warning, the ship swerved to the right toward a cluster of smaller islands. The shift in course meant they’d have to sail closer to Jarl Brunn’s ship, but it also gave Aegir’s Daughter the advantage, since she could maneuver through the tightly-packed islands far easier than the Jarl’s longship could.

  When Ulfarr darted a glance at the back of the ship, Bára stood with a sure hand on the tiller she’d just cranked, a wide smile on her face.

  “Of course I can outmaneuver them.”

  Suddenly a commotion went up from the shore far louder than Jarl Brunn’s men could produce. The Jarl and his warriors were halfway to their ship, but now a new group of men streamed from the longhouse, weapons flashing in the morning sunlight.

  “Jarl Sigurd’s men!” Bára exclaimed as she watched.

  Jarl Sigurd himself emerged from the longhouse at the back of his men, who numbered at least double that of Jarl Brunn’s warriors. He pointed a gleaming sword directly at Jarl Brunn, his voice booming across the water so that Ulfarr could hear his words clearly.

  “You have unlawfully landed in my harbor, destroyed a ship, and searched others, all without my permission,” Jarl Sigurd bellowed. “I consider these acts of war. Seize them!”

  Jarl Sigurd’s men swarmed around Brunn’s warriors, sealing them off from their ship.

  Bára shook her head in wonder, sending her dark hair ruffling in the breeze.

  “How did Jarl Sigurd mobilize so quickly? I never even heard a cry of alarm go up at Jarl Brunn’s arrival. I’d assumed that all in the village would still be sleeping off last night’s revelry.”

  A rueful curse slipped from Ulfarr’s lips as realization dawned. At Bára’s questioning look, he spoke.

  “Gamell. He was one of my crewmen, and loyal to a fault. He must have told Jarl Sigurd about Brunn’s arrival, giving Sigurd time to rouse his warriors. I told the lad to save himself and lie low.” He snorted. “Perhaps it is best that I will be taking orders for a while, since the orders I give go unfollowed.”

  She graced him with a smile so brilliant the morning sun seemed dim by comparison.

  “Where are we headed, captain?” Ulfarr asked, letting his eyes drink in the sight of Bára standing proud and sure at the tiller, her dark hair whipping around her face and her green eyes dancing.

  “I intended to go to the Pictish coast first, and then perhaps to the isle of Iona, if the weather holds. After that…I’ve never been to the
city they call Dubh Linn.”

  “That sounds like quite the adventure,” he replied. He readjusted the sail for their new course, all the while feasting on the sight of Bára, her eyes scanning the sparkling blue waters with a smile on her face.

  Perhaps this would be his greatest adventure yet.

  Did you enjoy Aegir’s Daughter?

  Go back to where Viking Lore began and discover more about Enthralled on Emma’s website.

  He is bound by honor…

  Eirik is eager to plunder the treasures of the fabled lands to the west in order to secure the future of his village. The one thing he swears never to do is claim possession over another human being. But when he journeys across the North Sea to raid the holy houses of Northumbria, he encounters a dark-haired beauty, Laurel, who stirs him like no other. When his cruel cousin tries to take Laurel for himself, Eirik breaks his oath in an attempt to protect her. He claims her as his thrall. But can he claim her heart, or will Laurel fall prey to the devious schemes of his enemies?

  She has the heart of a warrior…

  Life as an orphan at Whitby Abbey hasn’t been easy, but Laurel refuses to be bested by the backbreaking work and lecherous advances she must endure. When Viking raiders storm the abbey and take her captive, her strength may finally fail her—especially when she must face her fear of water at every turn. But under Eirik’s gentle protection, she discovers a deeper bravery within herself—and a yearning for her golden-haired captor that she shouldn’t harbor. Torn between securing her freedom or giving herself to her Viking master, will fate decide for her—and rip them apart forever?

  About Emma Prince

  Emma Prince is the Bestselling and Amazon All-Star Author of steamy historical romances jam-packed with adventure, conflict, and of course love!

  Emma grew up in drizzly Seattle, but traded her rain boots for sunglasses when she and her husband moved to the eastern slopes of the Sierra Nevada. Emma spent several years in academia, both as a graduate student and an instructor of college-level English and Humanities courses. She always savored her “fun books”—normally historical romances—on breaks or vacations. But as she began looking for the next chapter in her life, she wondered if perhaps her passion could turn into a career. Ever since then, she’s been reading and writing books that celebrate happily ever afters!

  Visit Emma’s website, for updates on new books, future projects, book extras, and more! And make sure to sign up for her newsletter to get all the latest news plus lots of fun giveaways!

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  Discover Emma Prince’s Booklist

  Viking Lore Series:

  Enthralled (Viking Lore, Book 1)

  Shieldmaiden’s Revenge (Viking Lore, Book 2)

  The Bride Prize (Viking Lore, Book 2.5)

  Desire’s Hostage (Viking Lore, Book 3)

  Thor’s Wolf (Viking Lore, Book 3.5) coming September 6, 2016!

  Highland Bodyguards Series:

  The Lady’s Protector (Book 1)

  Heart’s Thief (Book 2) coming late September 2016!

  The Sinclair Brothers Trilogy:

  Highlander’s Ransom (Book 1)

  Highlander’s Redemption (Book 2)

  Highlander’s Return (Bonus Novella, Book 2.5)

  Highlander’s Reckoning (Book 3)

  Other Books:

  Wish upon a Winter Solstice (A Highland Holiday Novella)

  To Tame a Viking

  by

  Harper St. George

  Chapter One

  Merewyn was an enemy in her own home. No one had said those words to her, and it wasn’t implicit in the way the servants acquiesced to her wishes. It was in their silences. They would respond to her gentle commands with an “aye” or “nay.” The “my lady” was only spoken as an afterthought. The hesitance in between was full of all the things they could not say.

  They could not call her a traitor. She had been stolen from this very manor back in the autumn. Her brother, Alfred, had been lord here then. They had seen firsthand how his wife had given her to the Northman. Eirik had taken her as a slave in exchange for leaving the manor’s grain stores intact. They had seen how she had fought him as he’d taken her away to his longboat. Not one of them believed she went with him willingly across the sea.

  She’d been nothing but a distant, shameful memory of their failure to keep her safe until her Northman had brought her home to Northumbria just months ago. In the span of those weeks, they’d seen Eirik take control of Wexbrough Manor, sending Merewyn’s brother and his family to the king’s home, and taking Merewyn as his wife. They might have forgiven her that—marriage as a means of negotiation and peace weaving happened frequently—but it was the fact that she went to his bed willingly that cast doubt on her.

  The Saxon servants couldn’t call her a traitor, but the accusation was there. It shone out from their eyes and filled in their silences. But they didn’t know how good he was to her and how much he’d given up to be with her. To them he was an invader to be hated and served only because they had no other choice. To Merewyn…well, he was everything. She knew deep in her heart that he wouldn’t bring harm to these people.

  A smile curved her lips as she watched him from the bed. The trousers he wore hugged his hips and well-formed buttocks. The fine knit wool stretched over his powerful thighs before falling to his ankles. He was shirtless, and the candlelight cast a golden glow on his skin, making the scars on his back appear shiny. He dipped his cupped hands into the basin of steaming water again and splashed it over his head. Droplets ran over his wide shoulders and down his back. The muscles of his shoulders and arms flexed as he reached for a square of linen to dry himself. It wasn’t until he was tossing it away that he glanced over and caught her awake and watching him.

  “You’re spying on me.” He smiled and raked his hands through his wet hair to push it back off his forehead.

  She grinned and stretched, propping herself on an elbow and arranging the blanket over her as she rolled to her side to face him. “I’m merely admiring what’s mine. It took me long enough to tame you.”

  His smile turned into a devious smirk as he walked around the edge of the bed, stalking her. “You think you’ve tamed me, sweet girl? Perhaps I’ve been too gentle with you.”

  He was a god standing there, all golden skin and golden hair. Her breath caught as tiny butterfly wings fluttered in her belly. She didn’t think she’d tamed him in the least, but she wouldn’t give up the game just yet. “Or perhaps I’ve been too gentle with you.”

  He growled and lunged for her. The bedframe groaned under his weight, but the thick oak held strong. She shrieked and tried to roll away, but he landed beside her and captured her with an arm over her breasts and a heavy thigh over her much smaller ones. Before she could catch her breath from the shriek, his fingers had found their way past her swelling belly to her waist to tickle her. His buried his face in her neck, his teeth nipping her skin as his neatly trimmed beard rasped her sensitive flesh, sending goosebumps down her spine.

  She laughed and shrieked again, struggling against him to free herself. He held fast, though, and soon his tongue was soothing the tiny bites on her neck, and his hands had softened to gentle caresses against her naked skin. She sighed and tangled her fingers in his hair, bringing his head up so she could take his tongue into her mouth. He growled softly in the back of his throat as his mouth opened over hers, and a large hand moved up to cup her breast under the blanket, his thumb stroking over the nipple. She groaned and pushed into his touch, already feeling the delicious throb of arousal pulse deep in her core.

  She kicked the blanket aside, and he slid between her thighs, though he had to rest the bulk of his weight on his knees because the gentle swell of her belly was between them now. The thick outline of his shaft pressed against her where she ached. When she arched toward him, he pushed forward with his hips, setting
a gentle, grinding rhythm.

  “I love you, Merewyn. I can’t get enough,” he whispered, his eyes hot with need.

  She knew exactly how he felt. All these months together and it was still so consuming every time she was with him. She’d never get enough.

  He fell over her, resting his weight on one hand while his other moved between them and found her wet and swollen. He slid a thick finger into her, stroking her deep before pushing another one in, stretching her as he readied her for him. Leaning down, he sucked her tender nipple into his mouth.

  A cry escaped her as she arched into him, craving more of his touch, needing the heavy weight of his manhood inside her to soothe the ache he’d started. She reached between them to fumble blindly with the fastenings of his trousers. When he sprang free, she pushed his trousers down over his hips and pulled him into the cradle of her hips. “I need more.”

  His fingers left her, but before she could mourn the loss, the thick head of his erection was there pushing into her, impaling her on his length. She groaned as he filled her, and gripped his shoulders to hold him tight. His mouth crashed down on hers and his hand tangled in her hair to hold her steady. She barely had time to grow accustomed to his size before he was pumping his hips against hers, thrusting into her desperately again and again.

  He broke the kiss and fell over her, his breathless pants harsh and heavy in her ear. “Please,” she whispered. “Eirik, please.” He groaned and sped his thrusts. Sooner than she thought possible, waves of release crested over her. He pressed his forehead against her shoulder, his hips jerking against her. “Merewyn,” he groaned as his rhythm faltered and he poured his release into her.

  They were both gasping for breath as he fell to the side, his arm tucking her against him. She rubbed her face against his chest, savoring being wrapped in the warmth of his love and protection. “That was incredible.”