“Dear goddess, Thyra. You look paler than a northerner,” Leiva’s voice pulls me out from the haze. I cannot focus on her. She tilts to the side, blurry. “When did this start, Einarr?”
“When I was about to bring her here. She just got out of the hot spring, does that matter?”
“Perhaps. I do not know. I doubt it.”
“Is she alive? Tell me she is alive!” a voice that I do not know yells through the veil of sickness encompassing my mind.
“I shall tell you nothing of the sort unless she wishes it, Jackal!” Einarr’s voice could kill from the poison that’s laced in it.
“She’s my daughter.”
“She hasn’t been your daughter since you abandoned her,” he shouts. My hand tries to reach up and grab onto his shoulders, but I miss. There are so many of his shoulders… so many Einarr’s.
“I didn’t abandon her. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“To the point you make me believe you.”
“Einarr,” I croak. I need him to stop. He is panicking. “Don't worry. I’ll be fine. Ignore her. Look at me.”
“You do not look fine, Thyra. I’m worried about you.” He leans his head down until his forehead touches mine. I forget about the woman going on about me being her daughter. I do not have the energy to focus on that right now. I just need to focus on getting better. I need to focus on Einarr.
My hand falls limp from Einarr’s shoulder as unconsciousness creeps into my mind.
“Thyra? Thyra! Keep your eyes open, damn it!”
Einarr shakes me by the shoulders, but it isn’t enough to keep me away from the dark.
“Open your eyes, come on. Come on,” Einarr pleads, but I cannot listen.
The night feels good. My body is telling me everything shall be alright. I just need to rest. “I love you,” I hush under one long breath before the darkness pulls me under.
I’m not sure how long I stay asleep. It feels like only a moment, but when I open my eyes, the sun is rising over the trees out the window. Einarr is asleep in the bed next to me, hand in mine, and when I turn right, I see an older woman, staring right at me. It scares the ever-living goddess out of me.
I gasp for breath, and my hand flies to my heart, trying to calm the racing beat. “You frightened me.”
“I have that effect on people.” Her voice shakes, but her eyes… if there is any question about this woman being my mother, her eyes answer it for themselves.
It’s like I’m looking into the future. Greying hair, wrinkles, but time hasn’t been kind to her. She looks to be elderly, but she cannot be older than my father since they met when they were young.
Einarr suddenly jerks awake. He opens his mouth to say something, but I reach a hand over him to quiet him.
“Don’t worry,” I whisper to him. “I can handle this.”
He nods.
“You must be Asta,” I say, not knowing what else to call her. ‘Mother’ seems like a bit of a stretch for someone I haven’t spoken to or seen in twenty-four years.
She gives me a sad smile, not showing me her teeth. “That is me. I know. I’m not what you expect.”
“I had no expectations.” Which is a lie. I did.
For one, I expected to never see my mother again. Two, if I ever did expect to see her again, she still looked young and beautiful, not like this. Not like this woman who looks like she has killed and eaten the flesh of her enemies. Three, I never, ever expected my mother to be Jackal.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you again, Thyra. You grew up to be so beautiful. I’m so proud of you.”
“You know nothing of me.” I flop to my back and stare at the ceiling. It’s a childish move, but I don’t know what else to do. I cannot look at her any longer. It breaks my heart to see the life the Jackals gave her. Or the life she chose.
It’s disheartening to know the image of what my mother was to me is shattered. I put my mother in a little box inside my mind and locked it away. I only ever unlocked it when I felt truly alone. Alone to the point I felt depressed, so I’d take the box out, unlock it, and live these scenarios in my mind with her until I felt better. Then, I’d put the box back, lock it away, and that would be the end of it.
But this woman beside me is nothing like what I’ve dreamed about since I was born. It hurts. I would rather have the image I’ve locked away than the image I see before me. What has she gone through?
I’m not so sure to believe her like I thought I’d be. I thought I’d jump into her arms, scream, cry, and laugh. But instead, all I feel is suspicion. Like Einarr says, something doesn’t feel right. And the feeling is making me woozy again.
“I’m glad to not disappoint you, then.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask, folding my hands over my stomach, that is on the verge of making me throw up again.
She sighs, the wheeze full of rasp and sickness, “I came back for my family. I know I’m not what anyone expects, but my love never strayed. I escaped them when I could. You must believe me.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m your mother.”
“You don’t get to use that statement on me. It won’t work.”
“We have a bond, Thyra. Surely you can feel it.”
“The only thing I feel is the need to spew. Literally.” I turn to my side and Einarr is quickly there with a bucket, pushing my hair out of my face as I spew something rancid. “Don’t look at me. I don’t want you to see me like this,” I mumble from almost being upside down.
“I want to see you like this. I love you, sickness or health. I’m here. Are you in pain? Do I need to get Leiva?”
“Please. I need some water.”
He looks from Asta to me, and back to her again, as if he doesn’t want to leave the room.
“I’ll be fine, my love,” I tell him.
He kisses the top of my head. “I’ll be right back.”
And that leaves me with her.
“Your father hasn’t come by to visit,” she says, fishing for information.
“Einarr keeps him updated on me. I assume you, as well. If I know Father, he probably has no idea what to think right now. You two are different people now. Too much time has gone by. He raised me, and you weren’t here. I don’t think he knows how to face you without being very angry, and maybe it isn’t at you, but he will be angry in general. Angry that you left, or angry you were taken, angry that you’re a Jackal, afraid that you may want to reignite something that died long ago.”
“I don’t expect your father to love me again. Twenty-four years is a long time. Too much has happened. To him and to me. I’m here for you, Thyra. Only you.”
My stomach turns again when her raspy voice lowers on the word ‘only’. My nerves shiver. This woman is a stranger. What if Einarr is right? What if she is Jackal more than she is my mother?
“And I can tell you about the Jackals. They are planning an attack. They have been building their ranks for a long time. The rogue Jackals put a dent in things momentarily, but when Krane died, the Jackals rose again. They have always needed women and children. It is why they took me.”
A sick thought occurs to me. If they took her because they needed women and children, did that mean she was forced? Do I have any half-brothers or sisters? The thought of my mother being abused nearly makes me spew again.
“Are you saying I have siblings too? What did the Jackals do to you?” I finally flip back over on my other side to look at her. She does the same.
Asta shakes her head. “No. I never was able to bear children after you. I’m grateful for that. It doesn’t mean they didn’t try, but when I continued to fail, they threw me to the labor workers. I’ve been working every day for twenty years, Thyra. I’m tired.”
“It’s good to know we have someone here that knows the inside of the Jackals, if you are wanting to cooperate,” Grim says from the doorway, butting into our conversation.
“Aye. Whatever I can to help.”
Leiva c
omes running with a big smile on her face and a wet rag.
“What has you so happy?” I ask.
“Well, I do not know why I haven’t thought of this before, but I know the signs. Thyra, you and Einarr are with child. You’re pregnant.” She places her hand on my belly. “When was your last monthly?”
My cheeks heat from such a personal question. “I do not know. It’s been a while, I suppose.”
“Pregnant,” Einarr repeats from his position in the doorway. His jaw drops open, and he nearly drops the water he brought me.
“Oh, my goddess,” I start crying. “We did it.”
“You did it! Fuck, I love you. I love you so much.” Einarr rushes to me, peppering kisses all over my face, kissing me through my smile.
“Oh, this is wonderful. I shall be a grandmother!” Asta claps her hand to her mouth, as if overwhelmed by emotion. But I know deep down; she isn’t going to be a grandmother because she isn’t a parent either. Something tells me her plan is to never be one, and if Einarr has taught me anything. It’s to listen to my instincts.
And if I’m wrong, I have the right to be skeptical after so many years of Asta not being here.
Chapter Thirty
Einarr
It has been a few weeks since Asta showed back up, and Thyra is still very wary of her mother. I hate it for her. I want to change it for her. I want to be able to give her everything she wants, including a mother that is there for her and loves her.
But I think Thyra and I are on the same page. There is something else in the works here. Something about Asta completely sets off my alarms. But I can’t focus on that right now. Asta is not a worry today. Thyra is.
My wife has been ill. Throwing up over the side of the bed into a bucket every second of every day, it seems. Leiva says it is just part of the pregnancy, but I worry.
I place a wet rag on her forehead like I do every morning before I go to train Abram and my men. “Thyra. I do not feel right about leaving you and the wee one.” I place my hand on her stomach, rubbing the flat surface
I cannot believe she is pregnant with my child. A day I thought would never come for me. I never knew a life such as this was in store for me. I’m not sure if the goddess made a mistake, but it is one I will relish in forever.
“I shall be fine, Einarr. I promise. This is a part of it all.”
“It makes me feel guilty. I feel like I made you sick.” I smooth my thumb of her pale cheek. I miss the color that always lives in them. They are so dull right now, tired. I miss my lively woman.
She chuckles, taking the rag and pressing it against her throat. “You did, my love. But it is worth it.”
“I’m just worried about you.”
“You’re always worried. I’m fine, my one. I promise.” Her cold, clammy hand touches my cheek, and I lean against it, holding it to my face with my own.
“I love you. If you need me, you know where to find me.”
“I have Abigale. She shall take care of me, won’t you?” she asks the wee girl. Abigale tumbles around on the floor wildly, giggling, and then bangs her head against the wall.
I reach my arms out to her, but Abigale, the brave girl, shakes her head and smiles up at me. “You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?”
Her giggle, laced with childlike innocence, brings joy to my warrior’s heart. “You worry too much.”
I pick her up under the arms and set her on my knee. “And I believe you’re hanging out with your mother too much. You’re starting to sound a lot like her.”
She wraps her small arms around my neck and buries her face in my chest. “I don’t want you to go. Can’t you stay?”
Oh, her sweet voice makes me want to stay. It’s tempting. “I can’t, sweet girl. I must train Abram before he tattles on me again, and then I get in trouble with your mother. And then I have to sleep on the floor again.”
“Oh, I do not make you sleep on the floor. You’re being dramatic,” pouts Thyra.
“Says my back.” I wink at her and set Abigale on her feet. “Alright, I must go. I’m doubling patrols today and adding men to the army. Also, I shall talk to Grim about adding a large stone wall on the boundary line.”
“I do not wish to talk about this in front of Abigale,” Thyra whispers, giving me a glare that says I better keep my lips sealed.
“Talk about what?” Abigale peeks her head around the corner of the porch from outside.
When did she get out there? How do children hear everything? “Nothing for you to worry about, my love,” I say, trying to get the wandering eyes off Thyra and I.
She pops her a head into the other direction and disappears outside, hopefully running with the other children.
“I really must go.” I kiss Thyra goodbye on her sweaty forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Do what you need to do, I’ll be here.”
A low growl shakes the back of my throat. “You better be. I’d tear apart this entire kingdom to look for you.” I take her lips in a sweet, slow kiss. It becomes impossible to rip myself away. Her kiss pulls me in, drowns me in lust and love. I swipe my tongue over hers with a gentle touch. Now, I don’t want to go to work at all, not when my cock is half hard.
“Don’t go. Stay. We can stay in bed all day,” she grins, pulling on my bottom lip and letting it go with a hard pop.
“You’re trouble. And you are in no state for me to take right now. You need rest.”
“I’ve been resting.” She plops back against the bed, pouting.
I push myself up and off the bed, a smile on my face as I stretch my arms up. I still get all warm inside when she wants me. I’m not used to it. I do not think I’ll ever be used to it. My scar tugs from the large stretch taking over my face, but I don’t try and hide it with Thyra. I don’t have to hide any part of me with her.
“You are trying to drive me mad with that handsome face. Get out of here.”
She tosses a piece of fruit at me, and I barely dodge it. It slams against the wall in a pile of mush, dripping contents onto the floor.
My hand flies to my chest. “That could have been me.”
“It shall be you if you don’t get on with it. Go,” she laughs, but I bend down again, giving her forehead one last kiss before running out of the cabin.
I take a deep breath in, inhaling the warmth of the sun and the sweet smell of the apple trees. Happiness. No void, no darkness, just happiness. It has been like this every day, and I hope it never changes. Everything is better. Colors are brighter, scents are sweeter, birds sing louder, food even has a stronger taste.
Before going to see Abram, I decide to handle my business with Grim first. I climb up the steps to the front doors of the castle. The guards, spears drawn in an X not to let anyone in, nod and release their formation when they see me, and they stand at attention.
I make my way toward the kitchen, which is where they usually are these days because Sassa is in the last month of her pregnancy, and the girl can eat all day every day and still be starving. She is so round, like a wheel of a carriage, I’d not voice that, ever, because she would cry. And then not even Grim could save me from the combined wrath of Sassa and Thyra rounding on me.
Secretly, I cannot wait for my wife to get that big. I want to run my hands all over every single surface of Thyra’s swollen tummy. Something about it makes me feel so primal, so possessive. Obsessive, too. It probably drives Thyra mad. I do not let her do anything around the cabin anymore. And she isn’t even showing yet. I can’t imagine how Grim must be feeling.
When I enter the kitchen, I stop in my tracks to see Sassa holding a turkey leg in each hand, biting one, then turning to bite to the other. She tears the meat off with her teeth, as if she is starved and never eats.
“I’ll be back, Sassa,” Grim says when he sees me. His eyes are wide and urgent, begging me to get him out of there.
She grunts in response. I’ve never seen her so… animalistic before.
Once we are out of e
arshot, I lower my voice to make sure she cannot hear me before asking, “Is she alright?”
“She won’t stop eating, brother. So much food. I do not understand it. I find it sexy, but it can be exhausting. And she hasn’t slept. She is always in pain. I just want the baby to get here. I doubt she will even remember this binge of food. She never does.”
“Seriously?”
“Aye, it’s like it never happened and we never speak of it again. Anyway,” he rubs his darkened eyes to try and wake up. “What brings you by so early? Thought you’d be training Abram.”
“I want to talk to you about a task. It’s large, but I think it needs to be done.”
As we walk, we pause in front of the medical corridor where Thyra’s mother is. “I think it best if we speak outside.” I slide my eyes to the medical wing, and Grim catches on easily.
“Of course, brother. After you.” He points to the door.
I place my hands behind my back as we walk down the worn path we have taken any times. Before I say anything, I see a pair of boots in the bushes. I know those boots. I yank my hand in the brush and pull out a very drunk Alexie.
“Goddess. He is a wreck,” I mutter. I slap him in the face to try and wake him up, but all he does is groan. “This will hurt,” I tell him. Not that he can hear me.
I pull my fist back and let it fly across his cheek. The big brute jumps to his feet, looking around half out of his mind.
“Welcome back.”
“You hit me. He rubs his cheek and pops his jaw back in place.
“You’re wasted in the bushes,” Grim points out.
“Da. I’m going; I’m going.” He stumbles down the path in the direction we just came and falls inside the doors. The guards look down, look at each other, and shrug.
“Leave him there,” Grim orders, then turns back to me. “What is it you want to talk to me about?”
“I want us to build a large stone wall at the boundary line. With the Jackals growing in number, we never know their next move. I think it is best we do everything we can to try and protect our families. Something must be done. We must protect Thyra and Sassa—”
Vikings' Brides 4 Book Box Set Page 46
