by Elle Thorne
“We could go to my father’s people.”
He knew instantly that had been the wrong thing to say from the paleness that had drained her cheeks.
“I cannot fathom living among the types of—” Brenna placed the water bag down. “The men who did what they did to that village are not the type I want to be around.”
He nodded. “You know that I am—was one of them.”
“You are different,” she said with vehemence.
This was true. Now. But, surely, she knew he had a past. “I am, now.”
She was shaking violently.
He took her in his arms.
Brenna sunk into him and he gave her comfort and assurances into the night that he was a different man. All the while, wondering what had happened to his bear and if it could be reversed.
Chapter Sixteen
A few short winters later.
Brenna pushed her hair from her face and ran after her three-year-old son, Gunnar. On the way, she cast a dirty look in Calder’s direction, only to find her mate laughing softly.
“Oh, you think it’s funny the way this young man keeps his mother on her toes?”
Calder dropped the blade he’d been using to skin a deer he’d brought home and with several long strides swooped a giggling Gunnar into his arms, then tossed him upward.
Gunnar released a high squeal of excitement and demanded his father do it again, and again.
Brenna sat on a stump near them, breathless. Her stomach, heavy with another baby, was taxing her every move.
She admired the way Calder held his son, the handsome figure he made. Not a single day had she regretted the choice she’d made to make a life with him.
They’d found an isolated region full of wildlife and plants as food sources with easy access to water, and a hill to build a cabin on. A cabin protected by the mountain behind them.
They’d been there a few months when Brenna had discovered they were not far from her father’s lands. She’d told Calder.
He’d asked her if she wanted to visit her father, his jaw tight. She knew it wasn’t her father that concerned him—it was the husband she’d left behind. As far as she was concerned, that man had not been her husband. They’d never consummated their marriage as man and wife. She’d never been much more than chattel to her husband, or even her father.
No, Brenna had told him. She had no wish to see anyone from her prior life.
Calder had nodded and acquiesced, though she knew his Viking blood wanted to seek revenge on the man who’d caused her such pain. For Brenna, there had been no reason for that.
She wanted peace and happiness. And listening to the sounds of Gunnar’s merriment, feeling the baby inside kicking, she knew she had exactly what she wanted.
Little did she expect that peaceful, happy life to be disrupted one day when a large, grimy man in rags and long hair, with tattoos on his face emerged into the clearing where she was hanging the baby’s clothing.
She’d given Calder another son, and she’d told him to name this one too, as she would name the girls when the time came, if they should have girls. She’d known that it meant much to her mate to give names to the children that would honor the men in his tribe and those in his family.
And she’d not been surprised when he’d named the next child Torsten. She’d wondered why he hadn’t named them after Halvar, his brother, but she wasn’t sure of the ways of his people.
The grimy, filthy man with wild eyes stared at her as if she were an apparition.
She bit back a scream and was thankful her children were both napping in the cabin.
But Calder was out getting water. And she was here alone. With this man with wild eyes and a strange demeanor.
She grabbed for the hatchet Calder had fashioned for her to keep at hand, one large enough for self-defense, but not so unwieldly as the one he sported for himself.
The man released a growl as he approached.
She raised the hatchet. “Stay back.”
“I know you,” the man snarled.
“Go away,” she warned him with a thrust of the hatchet.
He wasn’t close enough to strike, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to allow him to be.
A crunching to her left almost made her look. Almost. But she kept her eyes on the man.
Did he have friends? Would she be under attack from several of them? She took small sideways steps to get between the stranger and their cabin.
“Go,” she snapped, still keeping her eyes on the man.
Then came the last sound she wanted to hear.
“Mama?” Gunnar’s voice came from behind her.
“Stay there, Gunnar,” she cautioned her son.
“Gunnar?” the wild man said.
“Halvar?” Came from her left where she’d heard the crunching.
Except that was Calder’s voice. She cast a sideways glance. Calder was staring at the man.
Wait. He’d said, Halvar. That was the name of Calder’s brother.
She stared at the man. Could it be?
It was!
Calder came running toward the large man and enveloped him in a bear hung. “Halvar! I thought you’d perished.”
Chapter Seventeen
Calder held Halvar at arms’ length, his hands on his brother’s shoulders, and he took stock of the man he’d thought dead, and hadn’t seen in so long—since that day, that fateful day.
Tears streamed down Halvar’s cheeks, leaving light streaks on his grimy skin.
Calder was speechless. In all the years, he’d never seen his brother cry. Never seen a sign of weakness. He’d not always agreed with Halvar’s ways or decisions, and definitely didn’t share his ethics in certain areas, but he loved his brother and respected his military acumen.
Seeing Halvar cry touched a part of Calder he didn’t know he had.
He pulled Halvar in close, hugging him fiercely. “Where have you been, brother?”
Halvar coughed, cleared his throat and pulled away, swiping his cheeks with pawlike hands, leaving horizontal stripes across the vertical steaks, making a crisscross pattern on his face.
“I escaped the hell that witch rained down on our men. She killed our bears. Or at least, she may as well have. None of us could shift. My bear has fallen silent, imprisoned as if he’s encased in a box of ice.”
Calder nodded glumly. He knew all about that. He’d still not been able to free his bear. This failure tore at him daily, hearing his bear’s mournful call for release, but being powerless to free him, powerless to shift into his bear.
Halvar studied his face. “And your bear?”
Calder shook his head. “The same as yours.”
“It was that cursed witch, she cursed us. All of us. And she—” Halvar pointed at Brenna, “she is one of them. She is behind this as well. Just as guilty as the witch.”
Calder shook Halvar’s shoulders lightly. “She is not, brother. She saved my life.”
Halvar scoffed and appraised Brenna through narrowed eyes where she stood at the cabin’s entrance, Gunnar peeking from between her legs.
Calder pulled Halvar’s attention back to him with another shake. “Listen to me. She is my woman. The mother of my sons. She saved me. She can come to no harm.”
Halvar frowned. “Gunnar, the boy she called to… that is your son?”
“As is the infant. Torsten. The next one would be named Halvar.”
A grim smile curved Halvar’s lips upward, slightly, as though hesitant to give much emotion away. “And you say she’s a good woman? She saved you?”
“Indeed.”
“Maybe I should reconsider my opinion of her.”
Calder didn’t tell his brother that for his own sake, it would be best if he did. Harboring ill will toward Brenna would not bode well in Calder’s home. He’d not be able to harbor his brother and give him a place to stay if he warred with Brenna, for Calder’s allegiance was firmly with his woman. “That would be good,” he told his brother. “How
did you manage to escape?”
“I don’t know. I was not in the village. I’d got to the woods, and suddenly, was just leaving the cover of the trees when the pain struck me.” Halvar grabbed his head, as though reliving the pain.
Calder remembered that agony only too well.
Halvar continued, “I collapsed. I lost consciousness. When I awoke, the men were dead, they were being burned, and my bear was lost to me forever. I thought I was the only survivor.”
“Brenna pulled me out before they could kill me. Those women—”
Halvar grunted. “Valkyrie, they called themselves.” He cursed under his breath. “One day, we shall be avenged. In the name of bear shifters, in the name of our tribe, one day…”
“Valkyrie.” Calder didn’t tell his brother he knew that name. Didn’t tell him that, though he never discussed it with Brenna, he daily cursed the Valkyrie and prayed to the gods that vengeance would belong to his people. “Brenna took me from the foray, hid me in a cave, helped me heal. We have been together since.”
“You have feelings for her?” Halvar raised a brow. “Or are you with her because you are beholden to her for your life?”
“She’s my mate. Fated to be mine. There’s never been a doubt in my mind, and there was no doubt in my bear’s mind when he was not—when he was himself.”
“So, you had feelings for her when she was our captive.”
“Aye, brother. I did.”
Halvar nodded as though this admission explained a lot to him. Maybe it did, Calder figured, studying the fire that would need to have more wood put in it. Maybe now Halvar would understand some of Calder’s protectiveness of her.
“And her husband?” Halvar asked.
Calder snapped his head back to his brother’s face. “Her husband is not an issue. He never has been.”
Halvar’s brow flew upward. “Until he finds out she exists?”
Calder shrugged the question off. He didn’t tell Halvar how close they were to her father’s lands. How this could happen if she went into a town. If she were to be amongst others.
“Why have you not taken her north? To our people? To our father?”
Calder grimaced. “She does not have good memories of encounters with our people.”
“Ah, pity that. Our people have a long and proud heritage.” Halvar gave his own shrug. “She is your woman. You tell her what to do. You make the decisions.”
“That is not my way.”
“That is the way of our people. She is merely a woman.”
“I have to do what is right for both of us.” Not to mention Calder didn’t want to remind his brother that women were not to be underestimated. He’d witnessed that firsthand. So had Halvar. But there was no reason to rub salt into that wound.
“Perhaps I should get to know this woman better. I may have underestimated her. I’d like to get to know my nephews as well.”
Calder glanced back at the cabin’s open doorway where Brenna still watched them, her face expressionless. He beckoned her forward. She pushed Gunnar toward the inside of the cabin and closed the door behind her, then approached Calder and his brother, a half-smile on her face.
By now, Calder knew that was her look of uncertainty. He didn’t fault her for that.
Chapter Eighteen
Brenna still harbored resentment for Halvar. She knew she shouldn’t. As she took slow, measured steps toward Calder and Halvar, she determined that she should be the better person. She should be forgiving of others.
But by the love of all she held holy, she could not. Not easily. She took a deep breath, letting the crisp air fill her lungs. Winter was upon them. She and Calder would have to work extra hard. She didn’t want to tell him that she was with child again. Already. So soon after Torsten’s birth.
She hoped for a girl, because one day, that meant she’d have more help of the kind she needed. They didn’t need more hunters. She needed help with a woman’s work. And though Calder often offered to help. He was all thick fingers and thumbs when it came to doing some of the tasks she wanted help with.
She let the breath out slowly as she reached Calder and Halvar. “Greetings,” she said in the language Calder had been teaching her.
Halvar beamed a joyous smile, looking at his brother. “You’ve been teaching her our language.”
Calder nodded.
“You are welcome to our abode and our fire,” Brenna told him.
“Thank you.” Halvar cast his eyes downward, as though ashamed of…
What, she wondered. What is he ashamed of?
Though truthfully, she could think of many things this brutish cad of a man could be ashamed of, she doubted he had the depths and character to recognize it.
Halvar looked up and locked gazes with her. “I have not always been a good man. And I was not fair to you.”
She bit back a gasp. Wonders would never cease. The man did have an understanding of his wrongdoings. Unless Calder had something to do with it. She glanced sideways at Calder. But no, she didn’t think Halvar’s response was spurred on my her mate. The man had experience an awakening, it seemed.
“I am glad to see you are well.”
“It is no thanks to your kind,” he snapped, then clamped his lips together tightly.
“You do not think your kind did anything to merit the actions taken against them? Killing the village’s men? Raping their women?” Maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe he hadn’t learned anything.
His jaw worked, the muscles tensing then releasing before he finally replied. “I misspoke. My apologies.”
Brenna noted the sincerity in his tone and the concern on Calder’s face. Though she did not want to relent and be forgiving, her heart told her she should be more accepting. That Calder could have insisted she be among his own kind, but he’d never pushed the matter.
He’d never asserted that they move to the north, rather he’d been content to remain in this area and make a home with her. And by the same token, she’d never pressed him to join her people—though for her it would have been more difficult since she was legally still bound and wed to her husband.
No, she could not harden her heart. She needed to forgive Halvar—for her husband’s sake. As well as for the sake of her children.
Brenna took Halvar’s hand in hers. “There is nothing to forgive, brother.”
Calder put his arm around her and drew her against his body. She knew she’d done the right thing.
She tugged on Halvar’s hand. “Would you like to meet your nephews?”
“Indeed, I would.”
Brenna squeezed Calder’s hand. He gave her a look of appreciation. She nodded her acknowledgment.
Halvar was in front of the fire, playing with Gunnar, telling him stories about bear shifters. Stories that Calder had never told the child out of respect for Brenna’s feelings on the matter.
Halvar, who had no knowledge of this, was regaling the little boy with his tall tales.
Brenna hadn’t put a stop to it. She believed Gunnar would forget about the stories. He was so young still. If he never heard about them after this night, once Halvar was on the road, she could make sure they were never brought to his attention again.
Gunnar’s eyes grew droopy, his lids falling, though he fought to keep them open.
Halvar held him out for Brenna to take. She held her little son, kissing his forehead, then looked at Halvar, who bore a tender expression on his face.
Brenna made a snap decision. “Stay with us for as long as you want.”
Emotions flooded Halvar’s face. “Thank you.”
With a final glance at her mate, she nodded and took Gunnar to the cabin where baby Torsten was already fast asleep.
The image of Calder’s appreciation for the gesture she’d made toward his brother was the image that she carried on her mind as sleep overtook her.
That, and Halvar’s words whispered to Calder.
“Brother, help me.”
Chapter Nineteen
&nbs
p; Calder frowned at Halvar. “Help you with what?”
“My bear, it’s gone mad. It keeps trying to kill me. Are you not suffering from this?”
Calder poked at the fire with a long stick, watching the sparks he created fly upward above from the flames. “No. My bear is chained, but he does not try to kill me.”
“Mine is always trying to kill me or to get me killed. Always.”
“How does he try to get you killed?”
“He pushes me into fighting. It’s as if a madness sets in and this great rage is in control of me. I can’t seem to stop it. And before I know it, I’m usually embroiled in a fight with anyone I run into.” Halvar pushed his unkempt hair away from his face. “I no longer go around others. I stay in the woods. Killing what I need, eating from the land, occasionally stealing if I must.”
Sadness overtook Calder. “That is no way to live, brother.”
“I know this.”
“Why have you not returned home? To our people? To seek help? Perhaps a cure?”
“You think I did not?” Halvar rose and began to pace tight circles in the firelight. “I headed directly for our people. I traveled months by foot. I was but a few days away when I ran into our cousins, Bjarke and Audun.”
Calder nodded. He knew those names. “What happened?”
“I told them everything. They said that I was no longer one of them. That I was cursed, and cursed ones did not belong amongst our people. They tried to kill me.”
Calder hit his forehead with his palm. Those stupid ignorant bastards.
“I killed them,” Halvar said with a whisper. “It was not what I wanted, but I had no choice.”
Calder did not blame his brother. He’d have done the same if his cousins tried to kill him. “Understood.”
Halvar stopped pacing to lock gazes with Calder. “I knew then I could not go back. I should not have suggested earlier that you return home. I did not understand that your bear has gone as well. Consider yourself lucky that he doesn’t try to kill you.”
