“You are more than good enough, Rasha.” He lifts my chin to look at him. “The bone runes were given to me by the Seidr herself. They don’t lie. The runes have foretold that you will wield the bow, and I will die.”
“I can’t let you die for me. You owe me for helping Aslaug, but not with your life. How do we fix this?”
“You don’t marry Harald,” he says without restraint, intertwining his hand in mine. I laugh as my core rumbles in acceptance, and all I want is more.
“Joanna and Katrine saw reindeer in their runes. Maybe there are more women who share the same future as you and I? Wegather everyone and leave before Yule ends while Harald is ill prepared to chase us down.”
“I am not someone people follow or trust, and I still need to find my map.”
“Harald asked me about the reindeer. He offered to give me a group to search for them.”
Shaw moves away at my confession. Walking around the room in thought, he rubs his smooth jaw. I get the sense he’s holding back again, unwilling to give me his trust.
“I didn’t say anything about what you’ve told me. But I haven’t seen any evidence that Harald knows about Bjorn taking your map.” I spread my dress out around my legs. Jorvik’s harsh words from this morning ring a bell in my memory. “Jorvik knows.”
“Knows what?”
“He knows about the map. He mentioned something about having another meaningful thing to secure his position besides me. There is nothing else Harald needs besides the reindeer herd and a wife.”
“He’s not going to get either.” Shaw crosses the room, sweeping the cold air with him. “We will look for the map tomorrow. Bjorn must have it, and I have yet to repay him for hurting Aslaug. Then we will leave.”
“What about the bow?” I search his face for a hint that he wants more than my help. He reaches in his pocket and takes out a bracelet, the metal shimmering in the little light from the kitchens.
“This will show you the way if the goddess hears our prayers.” His fingers find my wrist, roaming up my arm and softening my tense muscles. I open my palm as he traces the sensitive places on the inside of my forearm until he reaches my fingers.
Our eyes meet, and for a split second, I feel we transcend time. He makes me feel seen in a way that brings forth an ethereal part of me. Underneath my hard huntress exterior there are feminine pieces, soft and delicate, that beg to be let out.
“Shaw, I would give myself to you if you asked.” The golden irises embedded in his hazel eyes flare. “The Maiden at the end of Yule is supposed to.”
He slips a bracelet over my hand and up my wrist, dipping his forehead to mine. Our breath mingles, and I swear there are sparks in the air like those coming off the kiln.
“I know how the rituals are supposed to go. That is why I am giving you the bracelet. It’s what we made the night I found you on the fjord.”
I touch the beautiful piece of silver and gold, remembering the mix of ore and the honeyed wine. I move to see his whole body, the one I’ve welcomed in my dreams. “Thank you for making it for me.” Running my tongue over my lips, I don’t want to know the rest of my future or the hardship I am sure is waiting for me.
Shaw backs up, keeping my hands in his and says, “The ritual works both ways. A man needs to give himself up as well, so can you do me a favor?”
My chest caves in at the absence of his body next to mine. “Anything?” I force my legs to stay tightly closed.
He walks to the door, opening his arm to usher me out to the Hall. Walking past him back to the feast, I hear him whisper, “Don’t get caught at the Hunt.”
14
RASHA
“We all saw it. I’ve talked to the women who read their runes in any form of divination last night, and a reindeer was present in each of their readings,” Joanna shares. We are having breakfast together in their longhouse. Many woke up early, like I did, itching to get out of our beds and busy our worried minds with a task.
“We cannot get ahead of ourselves. It is going to snow, and we must take part in the Wild Hunt. The gods must be watching for all the women to have similar readings,” I answer. Gathering empty bowls and cups to put in a wash basin gives me a moment to weigh what it means that our runes were all similar.
“Ingrid and Katrine never came back last night,” Enora says, coming out of the longhouse to where we set up tables to finish sewing our dresses for the Wild Hunt.
“Does Ingrid stay out all night? Katrine maybe.” I look to Enora and find nothing but worry across her rosy cheekbones.
“Katrine stayed dancing with Bjorn because we wanted to give you a chance to slip away,” Joanna admits, the edge of frustration on her tongue.
“I appreciate everything you’ve both done for me.” I take hercup and fill it with hot tea, passing her the warm mug carved from a solid piece of wood. Bjorn does not treat women kindly. I let Katrine put herself in harm’s way by going to bed instead of staying till the last fire died.
“Ingrid has already taken a beating from her father, so it is not like her to spend all night in a man’s bed. She knows her father will throw her out of the clan,” Enora says.
