“From the Immortal Realm,” I tell her, and she lets up. Wiping her nose on her sleeve, she looks at me with those bright blue eyes that look like pieces of sea ice. She parts her red lips to huff a breath and slams the long axe handle into my collarbones.
“What the fuck am I supposed to believe? That you are not mortal?” she growls. She’s too alluring, and I buck my hips to disorient her, tossing her to the side. Before she’s able to use her blunt weapon, I grab her arms and pin them above her head. She pulls her legs up and tries to kick me, but my hips over her waist are far too heavy for her to wiggle free from.
“Does it matter if I am?” Seeing Vidarr left me raw. Now my emotions are spilling out. “I am going to teach you to use the bow. We are going to protect the reindeer from Harald.”
She wiggles underneath me, slower, more deliberately, and her hands relax open, letting the axe roll away into the snow.
“And the chain?” Rasha’s eyes flick up to mine as her legs widen to encompass my body. The snow is melting around us, and the fresh falling snow is kept out of our circle. She’s radiating heat beneath me, and although I’d like to take credit for her arousal, I can’t deny the amulet sitting between her breasts, thrumming happily at our bond.
“The chain is yours to finish,” I softly reply and push my knees into the cold mud to stand. Holding a hand out, I pull her up and into my chest.
“You promised we’d start at the beginning, so maybe it’s time to tell me why you’re here, away from your family?” Her face is one hot breath away from my lips.
“Because Skadi’s death is on me. This exile is my punishment.” The snow falling around us sizzles into tiny curls of smoke when it touches our clothes. I can’t stop myself. I slip my hand into the opening of her tunic to cover the amulet and her chest with my hand.
For a moment, I feel the world stop moving and the snow cease to fall. Her heartbeat quickens like a racing rabbit through a summer field. She’s undeniably worthy of this task. I just need to show her.
Rasha stares at me and then around us, taking in the prism we are creating from the heat rolling off our skin and the snow stuck in a lethargy of time. She covers my hand with her own, which opens the tiny bit of magic inside the amulet even more. The axe in the snow vibrates off the ground, and I open my other hand to catch it before it knocks into us.
“I don’t know what to say,” she murmurs, leaning into the crook of my neck. My devious mind wants to slip my hand over a few inches to cup her breast, but I don’t dare break the concentration of magic while she’s getting used to it.
“Help me get the cabin ready for the storm. We will have days to talk,” I answer. She pulls away and gasps as the snow gusts downfrom the sky after being held back for the five minutes we stood with one another.
Walking back to the cabin is a mess; the wind pushes ice-crusted branches from the trees, and the snow comes down so hard I am not sure Rasha can see a few feet in front of her. Aslaug is there at her side, keeping her on the path, for which I am grateful. Before long, we are laying dry hay for the goats and checking on the reindeer, who don’t seem to care one way or another about the weather.
Aslaug had left two fish nearly frozen at the door earlier, so first and foremost, I start a fire when we are inside for the night.
“Where do you fish?” Rasha sings to the cat, who’s rubbing her stretched out side on the carpet. Stocking the logs to keep the fire burning all night, I watch the two of them trying to communicate and chuckle under my breath.
“She probably scavenged them from an eagle,” I answer, and Aslaug sits up to purr at my assumption. “Don’t wait to get out of your wet clothes.”
Rasha looks me up and down, pressing her lips into a thin line, and walks away, closing the bedroom door. It’s for the best anyway. After wrestling in the snow and touching her beautifully soft skin, I know we definitely need space.
When she comes back, wearing a heavy wool sweater I made, I take my turn to change. Sliding my wet trousers down, I know my cock is impossibly hard. Even wrapping my cold hand against it does nothing to soften the ache. Pressing it to the side, I pull fresh pants on and try to forget how much I want her.
Hunting is best when the animals come to you. The lesson we are taught as children in the Vanheim reminds me of Vidarr and Vali enough to replace images of Rasha’s body in the sled. When I come out, Rasha is sitting by the fire, examining the amulet resting in her palm as the silver chain dangles down her forearm.
“Do you still want to know why the chain is my penance, and how the bow being left here was my fault?” I take a seat close to her.
“What did you do?” she asks, and I rub my hands up the stubble shading my jaw.
“I took my position for granted, and she died.”
“I have a hard time believing that you would do such a thing.”
“Being young sometimes means being foolish and arrogant.” I stare into the fire to avoid her concerned glances.
“So the bow was left here for you to reclaim, but you couldn’t open the tomb? Because?” she continues, and I watch her slip each link through her delicate fingers and open the amulet to slide the ends out.
“Because some wounds are too great to heal. Maybe? Or maybe there is another lesson I have yet to learn from the fates?”
“Do you think the women will forgive me when they learn I am alive?” Connecting the fragments of our journeys.
“I think they will, and more so, they will look to you as their guide. Leaving a horde of angry men is going to be difficult for years to come,” I reply, remembering how determined Enora was to help me when Rasha was being sacrificed. I do wonder if the women know Rasha made it out of the funeral longboat, and what has happened to Harald, but selfishly, I am enjoying Rasha all to myself.
“You bonded us, and you can break the bond?” she asks.
I think I’m going to be sick. “Rasha.” Fear hitches in my lungs as she passes the still-warm amulet to me.
