Viking Claim (The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors Book 2) (12 page)

Gone within him.

Though it only felt like moments, the night drifted away. The planet turned. The stars moved. Vikings laughed, danced, partied, sang, but never once did Raknar let her go. They swayed, moved, touched, but never kissed. His hands drifted over her body not lewdly but worshiping, as though he memorized her every curve, every line that made up her form.

For the first time in her life, through him, she became wholly aware of every single inch of the body encasing her soul. It was odd but powerful. Different but unavoidable.

Amazingly welcome.

“Not much longer then,” Kjar murmured in passing.

His words sounded so far away that she ignored them.

Not Raknar.

He pulled back slightly and cupped her cheeks, eyes intense. “I want to show you something.”

As if their fate had been pre-ordained the minute he pulled away, Hamdir appeared. As far as she knew, the brute had been out to sea as well. It seemed he came home just in time and was more than willing to pick up where he left off.

“Raknar,” he grunted, eyes quick to go to Veronica. “I'll have her now.”

Not a question but an assumption.

Raknar, ever the diplomat but simultaneously her savior, looked at her. “Would you like to go with Hamdir?”

She narrowed her eyes at Hamdir as she answered Raknar. “Absolutely not.”

Hamdir’s lifeless eyes swung to Raknar. “I see you and her this eve. Now I want some. The law says if the King hasn’t made a decision yet, she belongs to no man.”

Brows slashed down, lips set in a heavy scowl, Raknar went nose to nose with him, eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t want to go with you. Are you going to argue that?”

“Yes,” Hamdir bit back, not budging an inch.

Raknar stayed silent, but he didn’t need to speak. Everything he felt was in the venomous way he stared down the other man.

Mutters came from the crowd.

“Hamdir’d do good to let ‘er go.”

“Loki’s fool, that.”

“Hel’s death for him.”

But Hamdir didn’t back down. No, the piece of shit kept his eyes locked with Raknar's.

“She’s
my
bitch,” Hamdir seethed, defiance in his eyes.

A blink. No, half a blink if that, and Raknar’s blade was across his throat.

This time it wasn’t a mock swipe but deep and true as he clenched the man’s hair and held him up. Jaw set, gaze lethal, he looked into Hamdir’s eyes as blood poured from his neck. All the while, Raknar’s words dripped with loathing as he watched death take his enemy. “She’s nobody’s
bitch
.”

Silence fell over the crowd as Raknar continued to hold Hamdir up even as his eyes slid shut and body went slack. Only when drool fell from the corner of his mouth did Raknar let him drop.

More silence.

Too much silence.

Then the king.

“Tonight is for Odin,” he roared, coming out of nowhere. He looked at Raknar, words low and dangerous. “Go. Now. Take her with you.”

Jaw clenched, not fazed in the least, Raknar grabbed her hand and pulled her after him. Stunned, likely in shock, Veronica stumbled along until she found herself plunked down in a boat. Shivering, out of it, she was still trying to process that she just saw a man killed right in front of her.

Raknar started to row viciously. Time passed. She had no idea how much. Until more silence.

Again, too much silence.

Yet this time it was different.

Water lapped. Ocean surrounded her. Raknar sat silently one bench seat in front of her, shoulders not slumped but tense. Everything about the moment was surreal.

“What just happened?” she whispered, frightened, barely able to form the words. It was no easy thing seeing what she just had, but her mind was kicking into overdrive despite how dumbfounded she was. Veronica wasn't clueless. She didn’t ask what happened because she was scared of the violence. No, she asked because she loved law. If she wasn’t mistaken, Raknar had just broken it to defend her…in an overly violent way.

One she normally would not approve of.

But then she had never been the potential rape victim in a case before. And she
would
have been raped. Without doubt, violently.

Veronica tried to loosen her death grip on the bench. No such luck. Her limbs were frozen. When she tried to speak again, nothing came out. Just wouldn’t. So she hung her head and wondered why tears leaked from her eyes when she wasn’t crying.

“Raknar,” she whispered, desperate.

Again silence. Too much space. Chill.

Then he was beside her.

When he wrapped his arms around her, she buried her face against his chest because she didn’t know what else to do. When a sob broke, she tried to hide it. She didn’t cry. Ever. Unless she was alone. But that had been intense and she felt more than a little out of control.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured into her hair and pulled a fur over her shoulders.

Grasping on to logic, anything tangible, she tried to detour from her own vulnerability and murmured, “Where’d you get the cloak?”

Raknar offered no response but continued to stroke her hair as he held her tight. Time went by. Waves lapped. Still, he held her and waited for her to find as much peace as she possibly could.

Eventually, after she had calmed and softened in his arms, he again whispered, “I am sorry.”

So was she. For so much. But he shouldn’t be.

Stable enough, she pulled back a fraction and met his eyes. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Thank you.” Then she pulled away entirely. “I’m the one who should be sorry.”

“No,” he said without hesitation and leaned forward, taking hold of the oars. “You have nothing to be sorry for either. I saw a problem and dealt with it.”

Veronica couldn’t help but appreciate his honesty. But would that stand up in a court of law, or the
Thing
, when dealing with murder? Then again, he lived under a monarchy, the king being his brother, so who knew.

Regardless, a crime, even if one of passion, had been committed. Though she didn’t want to ask, she couldn’t help herself. “What’s going to happen to you now?”

Again, Raknar gave no answer. Instead, he rowed one oar and turned not only the boat but the subject. “This is a beautiful vessel.”

Still coming out of the stupor she had been under, she muttered, “It is.” She eyed another set of oars. “I’m being lazy. Let me help you.”

When she made to stand, he grabbed her wrist and shook his head. “I can manage.” His eyes roamed over the boat. “Do you not recognize it then?”

Her eyes traveled over the three bench mini-longship and she was about to shake her head but stopped.

It couldn’t be.

Yet she knew it was.

Veronica ran her hand along its side and met his eyes. “Megan built this boat.”

“And her friend, Sean.” He offered a small smile. “Don’t ever say otherwise or she gets upset.”

Too true. Megan might have done the majority of the work, but this boat would always be her and Sean’s. Torn from the trauma of the night, she peered around, truly impressed. “I saw it sitting in her garage back home but look at this,” she declared with pride. "It's doing great on the water.”

“After Kjar laid eyes on this, he allowed her to help him build our ships.”

“I believe it.”

Settled down as much as she could manage after what happened, Veronica became wholly aware of how alone her and Raknar really were out here. How intimate the setting. He stopped rowing when they faced the distant shore. Bales were being lit and mountains towered behind as they watched tradition unfold.

“I need to know what’s going to happen to you,” Veronica murmured.

“My actions will be presented at the Thing on the morrow,” he said.

Her heart rate increased. That’s what she figured might happen. Veronica met his eyes, determined to keep her voice level, calm. “Who will argue on Hamdir’s behalf?”

“Likely his friends.”

“And for you?”

“Nobody. I will defend myself.”

That didn’t sound promising. “Am I allowed to stand with you? Argue on your behalf?"

“That is unnecessary.” Raknar shook his head. “They were my actions. Not yours.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“No.”

Her eyes narrowed.

Raknar sighed, gaze on the shore. “I have eliminated Hamdir as a threat. If you stand with me against my accusers, it will once more put you in harm’s way. Whether or not the judgment against me is death, you will become their next target.”

“Death,” she rasped, eyes widening as she slid her hand into his. “Tell me Naðr won’t order that.”

“My brother will do what he has to.” Raknar threaded his fingers with hers but kept his eyes away. “He will do the right thing based on the evidence presented.”

“Well, that’s a bunch of bullshit,” she huffed. “Might it not be argued that because he’s taken over two weeks to make a decision that you were driven to take action? Who knows, it might have been Kol or even Megan that ended up doing what you did tonight.”

Raknar’s eyes shot to hers. “I won't put this on Naðr. And I am not afraid of death if that is what he decides.”

Her chest tightened. “Maybe I’m afraid for you,” she said before she could stop herself. But it was out and she meant it. She didn’t want him to die.

The hard set of his eyes softened and his grip tightened. “I would rather go drink ale with Odin than have your life be threatened.”

“But I’ve got you defending me now.”

“And I did.”

Frustrated, she was about to say more when he nodded at the sky over the mountains. “It’s almost time.” His eyes again went to hers. “Do you trust me?”

Trust him? Unequivocally. “Yes.”

“Good.” He wrapped an arm under the cloak, around her waist and pulled her against his side. A strange sensation rippled through her. Desire, certainly, but something else. Something undefinable.

Tiny tingles spread through her veins and gooseflesh rose on her skin. His whispered words came against her ear. “What you’re feeling is magic.
My
magic.” He again nodded at the sky over the mountains. “Watch.”

For a moment, she figured he was being sexual when he spoke of his magic but the thought filtered away as she gazed above the mountains. At first it was just a brightening of the flickering stars.

Then something started to happen.

Movement.

Veronica blinked several times, sure she was seeing things. Her eyes widened as something started to take shape and shift across the sky from left to right, North to South. A long trail of what looked to be…spirits? Transparent but somehow visible, they were made of stars and dust as they raced after what appeared to be hounds, as well as horses.

“It is the Wild Hunt,” Raknar murmured. “Odin’s hunt.”

Her jaw fell open as the long band of entities turned and raced from the mountains in their direction.

“Holy crap,” she whispered and grasped his hand tighter.

“Don't be afraid,” he murmured. “They but pass over. When they do, you may see…”

But she couldn’t hear what he said next as they flew overhead and stars seemed to scatter everywhere, falling, drifting, hovering around them. It felt like they were suddenly sitting inside a magical snow globe. Better yet, that they were sitting high in the sky and part of the stars themselves.

The air smelled sweet yet still held the unmistakable tang of salt. Not only their surroundings warmed but something inside. Her heart filled not with fear, but an indescribable peace as spirits floated around them. At first they blurred by so quickly that they were featureless.

Until one wasn’t as he sat on the bench across from them laughing and smiling as he watched the hunt fly over his head. Then his young eyes went to her and Veronica’s throat closed.

Matthew?

Her son?

The age he would have been had he lived.

It couldn’t be…but she knew it was. When he smiled, so incredibly happy, she smiled back even as tears leaked from her eyes. There was nothing but pure solace in the way
he
looked at
her
.

And she knew.

He was here to comfort her. To let her know that he was okay and that he didn’t want her to be sad anymore. When his smile widened, something heavy inside her lifted. Sorrow. Guilt. Pure heartache.

“I love you,” she whispered.

He nodded. He knew.

Their eyes held and indescribable love passed between them.

Then, suddenly, another spirit drifted down and stood beside him. A woman. With long streaming pale blond hair, she was utterly beautiful as her skirts billowed in a phantom wind and her kind eyes met Raknar’s.

“Aesa,” he whispered.

Aesa? Naðr’s deceased wife? So it seemed. She looked at him for a long moment, love in her eyes, before her gaze shifted to Veronica. Though it was nearly impossible to keep from looking at her son, she couldn’t tear her gaze from Aesa. It was as if she was being compelled.