So she gave her answer. “Kol.”
Chapter Eight
Raknar laid back against the broad head of the dragon prow, stared up at the sky and did what he did best lately…brood.
Nine days had come and gone since Veronica decided to let Kol protect her. The only good thing that had happened since then was that she hadn’t lain with his brother. Nor had they kissed. Which seemed inconceivable considering Kol. But because of their shared dragon blood, he would know otherwise. Not to say Kol hadn’t made a few attempts. So it was a good thing Raknar had been out to sea until earlier today. Had he been here, it might have damn well been a blood feud.
Dockside, Megan shaded her eyes from the sun as she looked up. “Hey there, stranger.”
Raknar peered down and offered a small smile. She was about the only person who’d be getting one. “Thanks for keeping an eye on Heidrek. He seems good. Different.”
Megan grinned. “He does, doesn’t he? Definite improvement in his speech.” She kept on grinning. “But I don’t think that has anything to do with me.”
“No?”
“Nope.” She shook her head. “He’s been spending most of his spare time with Veronica.”
“Is that so,” he drawled and turned his attention back to the white clouds tumbling overhead. “Even with Kol hovering around her?”
“Yep.” Megan hesitated before she spoke. “Kol’s been different too.”
“Undoubtedly taking a different approach with Veronica,” Raknar provided. “She didn’t seem too interested in his previous attempts to get her attention.”
Raknar eyed Megan as her distress hit him. Since she had bonded with Naðr, he and Kol could sense her emotions more readily. “What’s the king think?”
Megan waved him down. “C’mon. Let’s chat.”
A strange niggling sensation started in his temple. He’d been so busy fuming at Kol’s good fortune nothing else penetrated…especially not a potential problem. Raknar nodded at the largest longship in the fleet, Megan and Naðr’s ship. “Hop on board. I’ll join you.”
Raknar stretched and made his way down the dragon prow’s neck. It had been too long since he shifted and his body was aching with the need to free his dragon. If it was affecting him adversely, he didn’t doubt it was doing the same to his brothers.
By the time he plunked down next to her on one of the longship’s benches, Megan appeared deep in thought. She leaned her shoulder against his, voice soft. “I’m really worried about Kol. He’s not himself.”
After she had fallen in love with the king, Megan’s friendship grew with both Raknar and Kol. Not only because the brother’s shared dragon blood but because she was a great woman. The perfect fit for them all. Just like Veronica would be…could be.
He pushed thoughts of her aside and focused on Megan. He knew the friendship she formed with Kol reminded her much of the friendship she had shared with Sean so if something were truly off with his little brother, she’d know it. “He’s likely not himself because of the repressed dragon.”
Megan sighed. “Naðr said the same thing but even he’s growing concerned.”
“Is he?” Now that was alarming. “What’s Kol been doing?”
“Brooding,” she said bluntly.
“Even being around Veronica all the time?”
Raknar found that hard to believe but he understood her concern. Kol didn’t brood. Period. His nickname ‘the lucky’ was well deserved. He’d been a lucky, happy bastard his whole life.
“Yeah, even around Veronica.” Megan's brows lowered. “At first I thought it was because she turned away all his advances but now I don’t think so. Something’s eating at him. He might be sticking close to my sister, but he spends half the time staring at the sea. It’s alarming.”
Raknar frowned. “Has he lain with any women?”
“I don’t know. Naðr doesn’t think so.” Her brows perked at him. “See how serious this is?”
Hel. Pretty damn serious. “Seems like a stretch but could it be he loves Veronica? That he’s trying to be loyal?”
Megan shrugged. “Seems unlikely but who knows. Still, I can’t see her rejection turning him into…” She eyed him with a weak grin. “You.”
Raknar couldn’t see that either. And he did not blame her for the jab. He wasn’t always the most pleasant person to be around. Between his ex-wife raising an army against them and Veronica pushing him away, he was worse than usual. Or had been before he made himself scarce. “Has Naðr spoken with him? Tried to figure out what’s wrong?”
“Here and there. When he has time.” She frowned. “I tried to.”
“And?”
“I dunno. He seemed a little distant. Like his smiles and even laughter are forced.”
“He needs to shift to the dragon,” Raknar muttered. “This pact with the seers is unnatural. Maybe we should go see them. If anyone can put a smile on Kol’s face, it’s Helga.”
Helga was one of only two seers of the original five who remained on the highest peak of Galdhøpiggen Mountain. Beautiful, sensual, she always brought out the flirt in Kol more so than most. Her sister, the Unnamed One, kept her head down constantly out of respect to the gods. They assumed, like her four sisters, she must be beautiful as well.
“I’m not sure Naðr would want Kol or you leaving right now.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Why is that?”
Again she sighed and worried at her lower lip with her top teeth, something she did when she was particularly upset.
“Tell me.”
“There’s been some battling the past day or so. Outer borders. Enough so that Naðr is getting edgy.”
All had been quiet in the bordering villages when he and his crew dropped off supplies. Naðr must have decided against telling him about recent developments telepathically because he knew he was already sailing home. Raknar ground his jaw, upset. A war with his former wife, Yrsa, wouldn’t be easy, especially when they could not embrace their dragon. Honestly, he was still trying to figure out how they'd defeat her if they didn’t.
He was about to respond when his son called out, “Father, will you be j-joining us for the Walpurgisnacht celebration?”
Heidrek's speech really had improved. Smiling, Raknar leaped up onto the side of the ship. His eyes immediately locked on Veronica. He hadn’t seen her since he returned. Heat flared in his groin when her eyes found his. If possible, she had only grown more beautiful since he left. Her skin was lightly bronzed by the sun and she radiated a healthy glow that was lacking before.
Images of her slender body stretched out on his bed flashed through his mind. The sweet, soft curvature of her ass and those long, shapely legs. Her hair draped in gentle waves around a face he could stare at for hours. That he had stared at the whole night, taken by the way her thick, dark lashes fluttered when she dreamt.
“Brother,” Kol grunted as he shimmied up the ladder and joined him.
Raknar clapped him on the shoulder before he grinned at Heidrek. “Yes, I’ll be at the celebration.” He nodded at the shore. “You should go help prepare.”
“Yes, father.” Heidrek nodded then looked at Veronica. “Would you like me to escort you b-back?”
“No, I’ll be all right but thank you.” Veronica kissed him on the top of his head, genuine fondness in her eyes. “Go on. I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”
Heidrek nodded, hesitated, then flung his arms around her waist, squeezed tight, then took off down the dock. Raknar watched his happy son run and something inside let go. Something he didn’t realize he’d been carrying.
Fear. For his son.
Yrsa had caused so much damage and he truly did not know if Heidrek would be able to rise above it. Now, because of Veronica, Raknar knew he would.
Megan hopped up between Kol and Raknar. “Hey Sis, I want to show you something on the Drekkar longship you first arrived on. Kjar’s handiwork. Wait till you see.”
Raknar understood that Megan wanted him to spea
k to his brother. Alone. And she was right. When Veronica’s eyes met his again, he nodded, unsure what to say.
“Raknar,” she said softly in greeting.
That was it. Just his name. But it was more than he had given her. Then again, though she might be doing great things for his son it didn’t entirely ease the sting of her rejection. Regrettably, wounded pride wasn’t something he was immune to. Neither the man nor the dragon responded well to it.
Regardless, he murmured in return, “Veronica,” before he jumped down into the boat. “Kol. A word.”
Kol followed. “Actually, I came to talk to you, brother.”
Before Veronica arrived, he and Kol had been close. Maybe even closer than Raknar and Naðr. But then he and the king were still muddling through the past, their strong wills making it a slow, elongated process.
Raknar leaned against the mast and eyed Kol. His conversation with Megan worried him so he decided to approach his brother without the bitterness he had been chewing on since Veronica made her choice. “Veronica looks well. You’ve taken good care of her.”
Kol nodded and grinned. “I have.” Like Megan had warned, the grin was forced and the usual mischievousness was missing from his brother’s eyes. “Did you have any doubt?”
Because Kol would be suspicious otherwise, Raknar contemplated him and shrugged. “Not really.”
“I like her,” Kol said easily. A little too easily. “A lot. She’s got fire like Megan but...”
When his brother trailed off, Raknar arched his brows in question.
“Kindness. Maybe too much. Which is good.” Kol straddled one of the benches then flopped back. “Hel, look at how she is with Heidrek.”
How could he not see how she was with his son? But Kol’s issues had nothing to do with that. He was up to something. “Just say what you mean to say, brother.”
“I miss women.” Kol crossed his arms beneath his head and eyed the tied sail. “I miss my freedom.”
“And?”
Kol sighed. “And having Veronica around is scaring them off.”
“Ah.” Raknar continued to eye his brother. “That’s not good.”
“No.” Kol shook his head. “Which is why I'm glad you’re back.”
“Are you?”
“I am.” Kol’s eyes shot to him. “I need a break.” His expression bordered pity. “I know she chose me but, well, maybe you could take over. Not for long. Just a day or two.”
“He’s lying.”
Raknar wasn’t surprised when Naðr’s voice entered his mind.
“Did you order this then?” he responded mentally.
“Yes. He’s been distracted. She isn’t as safe as she could be.”
“Does Veronica know about the change in plans?”
It didn’t much matter when the king’s essence left his mind. Raknar ignored the feeling of triumph that burned through him and focused on Kol. “Veronica might not like it.”
But now she had no choice.
She was his.
At least for now.
The dragon inside reared beneath the surface, its anticipation as great as his. Though he knew he should be more worried about Kol, he suspected his brother’s odd behavior came more from feeling the noose closing around his neck than anything else. After all, if Veronica was meant for Raknar then only one sister was left.
And she would be coming soon.
Which meant the end of Kol’s freedom.
Veronica peeked over the edge of the ship and smiled down at Kol. “Did you see it?”
“What Kjar carved at the base of the prow?” Kol grinned. “I did.”
Despite the feeling of triumph he felt moments before, something about the way Kol grinned at Veronica made him uneasy. His brother honestly liked her, likely even loved her, but he was stepping away. So was it a sense of rejection after all? But even that didn’t feel right. No, Megan was on target. Something was truly off about Kol and worth paying attention to.
Megan popped her head over as well, excitement in her eyes. “Hey, the bales are being rolled out for the midnight lighting which means.” She eyed the sun in the sky then Raknar. “The hunt begins soon, ‘the hunter’.”
Raknar grinned at his nickname and held out his hand to Kol. “Time to go have some fun. You with me, brother?”
Kol clasped his hand and stood. “Where else would I be?”
To honor the upcoming Wild Hunt of the spirits or lost souls tonight, the men of their village would hunt the best game and roast it as huntsmen from the otherworld chased their prey across the night sky. It was amongst Raknar’s favorite sports, but he would be lying if he said he wouldn't rather stay with Veronica.
“Kjar will watch over her while you're gone,” Naðr said, voice fleeting.
The king wanted him and his brothers together. Better yet, he wanted Kol to hopefully once more be genuinely happy.
When they joined the women on the dock, Megan wrapped arms with Kol and they walked ahead. This left him exactly where he wanted to be…with Veronica. Though tempted to hold out the crook of his elbow, to steer her closer as they walked, he just couldn’t seem to do it. She had pushed him away so the next move that brought them closer needed to be hers.
So he offered easy conversation. “You look well. How has your time here been?”
“Good,” she said, her eyes dead ahead. “And how’d it go delivering supplies?”
“Good. The outer villages now have plenty of food.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
“Loki’s cock. Have you had enough of good yet, brother?”
Raknar chuckled. “Get out of my head, Naðr.”
Veronica’s eyes flickered over him as they walked. “What’s so funny?”
“Funny?”
“You just laughed.”
“Did I?”
“Yeah.” She eyed him dubiously but decided to steer the conversation elsewhere. “I know I said it before but you’ve done a really great job raising Heidrek. He’s pretty awesome.”
Awesome? A word he only knew because of Megan. “Thank you. It seems he feels the same way about you.”
“I hope so.”
For the hundredth time, Veronica's words made him think about her lying on his bed before she’d fallen asleep. How she curled on her side and cried softly. What she clearly didn’t remember was that he held her, tried to soothe her. When he asked why she was so sad, she simply murmured, “My son.”
Megan had never mentioned anything about Veronica having a son and he wasn’t about to pry. He respected privacy. Yet it hadn’t kept him from staring out at the dark sea over the majority of the past nine nights wondering what she meant. Wondering about the heartache she carried. Even so, he would not ask unless she offered the information.
Though he was about to say more, perhaps ease the tension between them, time ran out when they reached the end of the dock. Kjar met them and flung his arm around Raknar’s shoulders, eyes fond. “Good to have you back, cousin.”
Raknar quirked his lips. “No hunt for you then?”
Challenge entered Kjar’s eyes. “Not this eve. Next time, hel yes. From here to Valhalla then back.”
Veronica smiled at them then made to step away, but Raknar caught her wrist. When her surprised eyes met his, he said, “Kjar will stay with you until I get back. Then you’re mine.”
Chapter Nine
“I’m not sure why I feel the need to wear pants again,” Veronica mumbled.
“Hmm.” Megan snorted. “Couldn’t have anything to do with Raknar being back.”
“No, it couldn’t,” Veronica shot as she adjusted the tunic he’d bought her then shook her head, untied it and flung it away. “I don’t want to wear this.”
“Right, because it’d look far too obvious.”
“Obvious?”
Megan rolled her eyes and held out her hand. Veronica’s most recent purchase dangled from her fingertips. “Go on. You know you wanna wear it.”
Veronica eyed the forest green sleeveless tunic with appreciation. “So naughty.”
“Yes it is,” Megan agreed, a twinkle in her eyes. “But there’s been no sign of that sleazeball, Hamdir so I think you’ll be all right.”
There would be nothing all right about wearing this tunic in front of Raknar. At least not the way she intended. Nonetheless, if she missed nothing else about the twenty-first century it was her own sense of fashion so she only hesitated a moment before snagging it from her sister.
Megan nodded at the bed with a devious gleam in her eyes. “To go with your specially fashioned pants and boots of course.”
“Naturally,” she agreed as she pulled on the pants first. Scandinavia at this time of year was chilly but humid enough that as long as a bonfire was lit, the outfit might just work. And label her insane for wearing it. As she tied up the snug tan leather pants then cinched the cleavage revealing fitted sleeveless tunic with nothing beneath, Veronica for a split second felt like an inkling of the New Yorker she’d become.
By the time she yanked on the specially made crème colored, knee high boots with fur trim and tied up her hair in a becoming twist of braids and free falling hair, she felt downright fabulous.
She lightly lined her eyes with charcoal then drew a small flourish of delicate vines on her collarbone. After that, she dabbed a bit of pink on her lips and attached long, dangly green earrings made of tiny seashells fashioned to look like leaves.
“Well?” she asked Megan, spinning once then arching a brow.
Megan put a hand over her mouth and shook her head.
“What? Too much?” But Veronica didn’t care if it was.
“Too much? Hard to say. Do you look out of this world crazy amazing? Hell yeah.” Megan’s brows drew down and she shook her head. “One thing’s for sure, you’re making Raknar’s job a lot harder than you made Kol’s.”
Making Raknar hard wasn’t such a bad thing. Veronica groaned. Not what she meant to think. “Raknar’s job hard. Right. Not my intention.”
Viking Claim (The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors Book 2) Page 11
