by Fabio
But he did not come to her. Reyna was growing most anxious, about ready to go searching for him, when Sibeal brought in a tray of food. "Know you where my husband is? " Reyna asked the thrall.
Sibeal set her tray down on a crude table. "I think my lord is still at war council with his kinsmen. I spied Nevin going into the chamber with a jug of mead to refill the men's ox-horns."
'The threat from Wolfgard is increasing," Reyna murmured with a scowl. Only this morn, one of my stepfather's warriors stole inside this very room and tried to murder me and my husband."
"How fared ye, milady?" Sibeal asked with alarm.
Reyna shrugged a shoulder. "I overpowered the whoreson and would have slain him, but my husband would not allow the deed to be done. He took the attacker to be guarded with the other captives."
Sibeal studied the grim-featured girl. "Things are not going well between you and my lord."
"How know ye this?" Reyna asked defensively.
Sibeal raised a shapely black brow. "I saw enough yesterday when your husband dragged you in, wet and shivering. Did you try to drown yourself, milady?"
Reyna's eyes gleamed with anger. "I sat on the beach and watched Ragar's ship disappear into the horizon ... and then I forgot about the tide coming in.'
" "Its good your husband possessed the prudence to remember the tide and come retrieve you."
"I would rather be in Loire," Reyna burst out petulantly.
"But you are a married lady."
"Yea, I have been forced to become so,"
Sibeal slanted the girl a chiding glance. "Viktor the Valiant did not force you into wedlock. 'Twas a choice you made to save your brother."
"But now I am under the control of yet another man who wants to dominate me."
Sibeal's gaze mirrored both sadness and wisdom. "Milady, 'tis not fair that you judge all men by Wolfgard. I know you suffered grievously by him, and your wounds are deep. But Viktor the Valiant is a fine man, and he has never mistreated you like the barbarian who kidnapped you and your mother."
"Mayhap Viktor has never abused me," Reyna conceded, "But too oft he tells me nay."
Sibeal released an incredulous laugh. "What choice do you give your husband? What man would consent for his wife to leave him? Milady, you have always had too much pride—"
"Oh, leave me be and tell me no more of my pride!" Reyna retorted, losing all patience. "Ever since you laid eyes on Viktor the Valiant, you have taken his side in all matters— against your own mistress!"
Sibeal refrained from further comment and left the room.
Reyna muttered a curse, feeling as guilty over her outburst toward Sibeal as she already felt for her angry words to Viktor this morning. She mused that Sibeal was doing an excellent job of acting as her conscience, reminding her of the destructive pride that had already weighed much too heavily on her actions.
Verily, she was almost in a mood to swallow some of that pride, but Viktor still had not come to her. Her worry turned to confusion when she heard someone moving about in the next chamber, where usually no one slept. Curious, she wandered in, and found him—
Standing with his back to her, her husband was naked to me waist, washing himself with a damp cloth. Her mouth went dry at the sight of him.
Seeming to sense her presence, he turned around, the wet cloth lying against his shoulder. His expression was shuttered. "How is Freya?"
"She is calm at last, dozing by the fire."
"Good." He turned away and she watched him run the cloth over a muscled arm, watched the light dance on the gleaming flesh.
Painfully, Reyna cleared her throat. "Why are you here, my husband, and not in our chamber?"
Again he turned to her, and she could see hurt and pride smoldering in his beautiful eyes. "You said I shouldn't trust you. Perhaps I had best spend the night here so you won't slay me in my sleep."
He waited for her response, and Reyna floundered miserably. Her husband's words hurt terribly, especially since she had deserved them. What smarted even more was that Viktor was holding himself away from her, for she felt as if a part of her had been torn away. And she continued to feel hellishly guilty that she had provoked this alienation through her own dishonorable words.
"I would not slay you," she said quietly.
"Ah, so you are trustworthy now?" he asked bitterly.
"I spoke in haste."
"In haste?"
"And in anger."
He fell silent, toweled himself dry, then moved to the bed. Reyna's heartbeat quickened as she watched him remove his leggings. The light played over his thighs and buttocks, the sight of the firm, tanned flesh teasing and tormenting her. She wanted him terribly, and not just in a physical sense. She wanted to close the distance between them, but she wasn't sure how to accomplish this, for never before had Viktor spurned her bed. Her throat aching, she watched him slip beneath the covers.
"Well, Reyna?" he asked. "Is there something else? I'm rather tired—"
"Yea!" Haughtily, she approached him. "You are breaking your rule, my husband. Our rule."
"And what rule is that?"
'That we are married and we leave our anger and pride at the door. You have taken it all to bed with you."
He actually chuckled, but his words were obdurate. "Perhaps I should, rather than go to bed with a wife I shouldn't crust."
Exasperated, she began to pace. "Why must you make this so difficult!"
"I'm making things difficult?" he asked in amazement.
"Yea! Can you not see how torn I feel? You are asking me to give up all I have ever clung to, to defend myself!"
"Do you have to defend yourself against me?"
"Sometimes I feel I do," she answered honestly. Seeing his jaw tighten in pride, she quickly added, "But you saved Harald and Ragar for me. That I will always remember. That I will always be grateful for."
He turned and punched down the pelts that served as his pillow. "Then maybe your gratitude will keep you warm."
Reyna groaned as he turned his broad back to her, leaving her shut out and uncertain. Through it all, she realized that she truly hated having hurt him, that she had come to care about his feelings. That he had this much power over her emotions was frightening, devastating—and equally irresistible.
At last, in a small voice, she asked, "What do you want from me?"
"I think you know, Reyna," came his muffled reply.
'Tell me."
Flinging back the fur pelt, he turned to look at her, his weight propped on an elbow, his gaze burning into hers. "I want us to share everything—our thoughts and innermost fears, our hearts, bodies, and souls. But we must have complete trust and honesty between us, and you have shattered our trust."
It took great courage for Reyna to go to him then, knowing how hurt he was. But she did, and when she reached his side, their gazes locked for another long moment.
"I am sorry," she said at last.
He reached out to touch her hand, but his expression remained stern. "Just sorry?'
With a sigh, she removed her dagger from its sheath and solemnly placed it in his hand. "You can trust me, Viktor."
He stared at the weapon in awe, knowing just what the surrender of it meant to Reyna. "You're giving me your dagger?"
"Yea." She pulled back the coverlet and glanced lower, confirming what his eyes had already told her—that he wanted her, badly. "Will you give me yours now?"
In answer, Viktor tossed the dagger aside, hauled Reyna down on top of him, swatted her bottom, and kissed her. "So that is what all this sackcloth and ashes is about! My young wife is feeling horny again."
"What means 'horny'?" She pouted. "I have no horns,"
Viktor chuckled as he remembered one of Monica's comments from the faraway present. "You, milady, have horns and a tail." Stroking her, he added, "And a most delightful tail at that."
She snuggled against him, "Verily, I am not just horny, but tired of battling with you. I want to make peace—at least in our bed
chamber."
Viktor was amazed. "My Valkyrie bride wants to make peace?"
"I gave you my dagger, did I not?" she asked irritably.
"You gave it to the attacker this morning," he reminded her with a lingering hurt
She smiled and mussed his hair. "I would not have let him slay you. I had my eye on you the entire time. Had he even nicked your pretty flesh, I would have castrated him, and quickly so. I am very fast and lethal, you see."
"Viktor grimaced. "So you are.' He rolled his wife beneath him, raised her skirts, and teased her with the tip of his manhood. "Why would you have saved me, Reyna?"
She moaned ecstatically, trying unsuccessfully to impale herself on his tormenting, elusive sword. "Because you are so pretty."
He appeared upset "Is that the only reason?
She bit her lip. "Because you are good to me."
"And why else7"
"Because you mate with me so splendidly."
"Make love, Reyna."
"Make love."
"And why else?"
She offered a contrite smile. "Mayhap the other reasons will come in time?"
He was staring at her, brushing a wisp of hair from her eyes and about to plunge into her, when a yapping sound directed their attention to the portal.
Gently pushing her husband away, Reyna sprang up. " 'Tis Freya. She is nervous again."
Viktor also got up, shrugged on his leggings, strode over, and knelt by the fox, stroking her flank. "Her belly is as hard as a rock. I'd say she is having contractions."
Reyna's eyes went wide. "Contractions?"
"She's having her pups, darling."
"Oh, merciful Jehovah! We must help her."
While Reyna carried the fox back to the other chamber, Viktor threw on the rest of his clothes. He knelt with his wife near the hearth, and together they experienced the miracle of birth. Both of them comforted Freya when she yowled while pushing the first tiny silver-and-brown pup out through the birth canal. They cleaned the tiny blind creature, stroking it to life, glorying in its first faint cries, setting it to nurse at its mother's belly. Viktor smiled at Reyna and saw tears in her eyes. He felt so touched, so close to her, and could hot wait until they shared the birth of their own child.
They had just delivered the second pup when they were distracted by a scratching and low howling sound near their chamber, but outside the longhouse. They glanced at each other in curiosity and some alarm.
"The wolves?" Reyna asked Viktor.
"No, that bark does not sound like a wolf's. Besides, they are locked in the stables." He leaned over, quickly kissing his wife's troubled brow. "You mind the store while I go investigate."
"Yea," she agreed with a frown.
He left, and Reyna was pleasantly surprised when he returned a moment later. But she was puzzled to see him back slowly into the room, crouching, while speaking soothingly to someone—or something—she could not see.
"Come on," he coaxed, "you can join us. You don't have to be afraid, little friend."
Reyna watched in amazement as a gray-and-brown ice fox crept inside the chamber, furtively observing both her and Viktor.
"Freya's mate!" she cried.
The fox growled at her.
"Careful," Viktor cautioned his wife. "He is a rather distrustful fellow." He plopped himself down beside Reyna and winked at her.
The fox darted forward slightly, then stopped, staring at Freya, who was far too distracted to take note as she yowled softly and pushed another pup into the world.
Reyna inclined her head toward the newcomer. "What is he doing here?" she whispered to Viktor.
"I imagine it's a matter of instinct," Viktor replied. "I seem to recall reading once that the male fox helps to raise the litter. So you see, my dear, not every male of the species gets the female in the family way and then shirks his responsibility and abandons her."
Reyna chuckled and glanced again at the anxious fox, watching him paw the floor while casting his gaze toward them. "He is staring at us and Freya so intently. What shall we do?"
"Let's just continue with what we're doing and let him get accustomed to us."
Viktor and Reyna helped Freya deliver three more pups as her mate watched warily from across the room, occasionally making growling or chirping sounds, or pacing in a tight little circle. Once all the pups were delivered, Viktor fetched a wet cloth to cleanse Reyna's hands and his, and then he wiped up the afterbirth.
He looked up to see more tears in his wife's eyes. "Why are you crying? And you're trembling, too, darling."
Reyna glanced at the nursing pups, then stared at her husband with her heart in her eyes. " Tis so beautiful. It makes me want what you want. And that frightens me."
With a groan, Viktor caught her close and kissed her hair. "Oh, Reyna." Hearing an impatient yowl from across the room, he added, "I think we had best let the new family be alone."
"Yea—'tis time for our family to be alone," she murmured tenderly.
Viktor carried his wife to the bed. Cuddled close under the covers, both of them watched, awestruck, as Freya's mate finally approached her and began licking her and the pups. At last the small family settled down together and slept. The sight of it was so poignant, so sweet, that Reyna again wept, and Viktor kissed away her tears.
Reyna and Viktor made love on the bed—two young, strong, splendid creatures, passionate, insatiable, and a little wild. Tightly entwined, they rolled about and made their passion last, first coupling slowly, side by side; then more urgently, with Reyna astride Viktor; then explosively, with her beneath him as he drove them both to a breathtaking climax.
Afterward, Viktor, too, felt tears stinging at the incredible sweetness of what they had shared. He kissed his wife's ear and whispered, "What brought you back to me?" Feeling her hands move to his shoulders to nudge him away, he grasped her wrists. "No, darling, talk to me while we're still one, while I'm still inside you—where I long to stay forever."
She shuddered against him, and he felt his loins throbbing back to life.
"What brought you back, Reyna?" he asked, more insistent.
"Your vision."
He tensed. "But after I told you this morning, that's when you—"
"I know. I was wrong and cruel. It was my fear and pride that spoke."
"Fear of what, Reyna?"
She sniffed at tears.
"What, darling?"
Her words came out choked with emotion. 'That you will swallow up my will" With a ragged breath, she explained, "When my mother died, I swore on her grave that no man would ever subjugate me as Wolfgard had suppressed and broken my mother."
Viktor stiffened. "Do you really think that is what I want? To break your spirit?"
"You want to tame me," she argued. "You want to tell me what to do—that I may not kill, that I may not go to Loire—"
"I responded as I did because I believed what you wanted was wrong, darling," he explained patiently. "But I do not like having to tell you nay. When you are more reasonable, we can make more decisions together."
"Reasonable?" she repeated with a skeptical frown. "Verily, you mean when I am willing to think as you do."
He chuckled, kissing her brow. "What else are you afraid of, Reyna?"
Again tears filled her eyes. "Mayhap that I will want your vision as much as you do."
"Do you?" By now he was kissing away her tears.
She shivered against him. "Yea. Especially after watching the little fox. I want your baby, too—a child to bring us that same special joy Freya and her mate now have."
"Oh, darling."
Viktor's words came in a shuddering moan as he felt himself grow rigid inside her. At her feverish sighs, he withdrew, then sheathed himself again in her tight flesh.
Reyna curled her legs around his waist. 'Tell me of your vision again while you make love to me. Tell me of our beautiful son. 2 would believe in him and you. Tell me more stories of Futuregard. I love your stories, my husband."
/> Staring into her eyes, Viktor wished with all his heart that she could say she loved him, too. Perhaps for now, it was enough that he loved her as desperately as he did, and that she wanted to believe in him and his vision.
"I'm not sure," he whispered, thrusting deep, "I can talk at a time like this."
"We will go slowly, then," she whispered back, rising to meet him.
But slow was hardly on Viktor's mind at the moment, either, as he found himself being propelled toward a second, mind-shattering climax. Afterward, he cuddled his wife close and entranced her for the rest of the night with his stories of Futuregard, his visions of their destiny together.
THIRTY-ONE
Viktor's thoughts were consumed by Reyna.
Early the next morning, he rode Sleipnir across the tundra. The horse's hooves thudded on the loam as a noisy flock of snow geese flew overhead. Viktor knew he needed to clear his head and consider the dangers confronting his people, with Wolfgard surely within weeks of having a new ship readied and potentially mounting a massive attack. Yet his mind was filled with images of his darling bride: Reyna giving herself to him so sweetly last night; Reyna, listening to his stories, as rapt and eager as a child, but all woman when she held him; Reyna, awakening him in the wee hours, her mouth on his, her fingers touching him intimately ...
He had told her again of his vision, and new stories of Futuregard: rockets flying to the moon; boats swimming under the water; buildings touching the clouds. She had asked him myriad questions, her curiosity boundless. They had hardly slept the entire night, so insatiable had been their passion, so eager their sharing. And yet he had awakened feeling utterly refreshed and fulfilled.
Never had Viktor felt such passion for any woman. Even the love he had felt for Monica back in the present paled in comparison to the deep bond he enjoyed with Reyna. He now felt connected with her on every level—physical, emotional, and spiritual.
And how she loved the tales he spun! Even after listening to him raptly throughout much of the night, she had awakened begging for more. If only his bellicose men could be mollified so easily.
But couldn't they? Viktor scowled in deep thought, recalling the night of the feast, when he had forestalled bloodshed by using his wits and inventing clever yarns. All of his men had been enthralled by his hastily contrived anecdotes of his alleged exploits in Valhalla.
