Elfi waited in the sacred grove, breathlessly anticipating her sparring session with Njörd. She’d brought the shield, like he’d said, and she’d worn the leather armor and woolen breeches which had once belonged to Dag. As she practiced her daily dance with the sword, Elfi envisioned her intriguing betrothed.
His outward appearance was feral and fierce, like an unpredictable predator. Massive, savage, and unshorn. Watchful, silent, and deadly. But in the gentle, possessive way he held her, his inner spirit revealed that he was also loving, loyal, and protective. TheWolf of the Nordic Seastruly embodied all the characteristics of his lupine name.
With his irresistible allure, Elfi was drawn to him in ways she couldn’t comprehend. When she gazed into his deep blue eyes, she beheld all the aura and mystery of the sea.
The cresting waves crashing against the white chalk cliffs. The inviting, enticing pools in sheltered coves and secret caves. The mists and fog, seafoam and salt spray. The dangerous depths where she could drown.
When he had kissed her, she’d been engulfed in desire. Swept into a maelstrom, like a sailor ensnared by Rán. Awash in an endless ocean of yearning. She and Njörd were fated mates, their destinies entwined by the sea.
The crunch of his bootsteps alerted her to his arrival in the sacred grove. She spun around, dazzled by theglorious sight of her magnificent betrothed.
His long, thick, brown hair was pulled back and tied with a leather cord. His beard was neatly trimmed and adorned with blue beads woven into small braids—a sign of Viking strength and noble status.
He was the Danish Jarl of Ribe. He’ll soon be the Norman Count of Étretat. An essential link in the Viking alliance between Denmark, Norway, and Normandy. My betrothed. Wolf of the Nordic Seas.
A delicious thrill rippled through her limbs.
She noticed that he held a finely crafted archery bow in one of his large, calloused hands and a round piece of wood in the other. His steel sword was encased in an intricately tooled scabbard at his sinewy waist. A bossed shield was strapped across his back with two wide deerskin bands, and a gleaming leather quiver with at least twenty fletched arrows was slung across his shoulder.
“Good morning, Elfi. I’m glad to see you brought your shield.” His dazzling smile took her breath away.
He unstrapped the shield from his back and laid it against the trunk of an enormous oak. Striding toward her, he took her shield from her hands and placed it on the ground beside his own. He flashed her a disarming grin which sent another chill through her core. “I have a gift for you.” Njörd returned to her side and handed her the bow he’d been carrying, placing the leather quiver of arrows on the ground while still clutching the circular piece of wood. “Varg made this from the finest yew,” he said, indicating her new bow. “It has strong heartwood for the belly, and supple sapwood for the back. And it’s just the right size for you.”
As Elfi leaned toward him to accept the delightfully unexpected gift, she nearly swooned from Njörd’s alluring scent. A heady blend of fresh leather, crisp pine, and the tangy brine of the sea.
She examined the finely crafted bow, running appreciative fingertips over the smooth, polished wood. Mouth agape in astonishment, she looked up at him with eyes widened in wonder. “It’s beautiful! Will you teach me how to use it?”
“Of course. Let me attach this target.” From the pouch at his waist, he removed a hammer and nail, affixing the circular shaped piece of wood he was holding to the trunk of a solid beech tree. “I want you to learn archery as well as swordsmanship and hurling a dagger. We’ll add this to our daily training. Starting today.”
While she watched in stunned delight, he came up behind her, positioning her body so that she faced away from the target at an angle. “Stand with your feet shoulder width apart,” he said, demonstrating the proper stance.
Elfi adjusted her pose accordingly.
“Now, hold your body like this,” he murmured, guiding her torso into proper form. Her breasts tingled, aching for his touch. When he placed his hands on her hips to align them correctly, heat surged through her as she imagined him gripping them for an entirely different reason.
Njörd wrapped his arms around her, showing Elfi how to nock and tightly draw back the bowstring, keeping her collarbone parallel with the arrow. In his enticing embrace, her unsteady legs weakened with desire.
“I gave you this gift for another reason, you know,” he whispered, his breath a warm caress against her cheek. “So I could hold you close. And do this.” He kissed the nape of her neck where it touched her shoulder.
A soft moan escaped her lips.
Still standing behind her, Njörd helped Elfi pull the bowstring back tautly at the level of her eye, keeping her forearm parallel to the ground. “Align the tip with the target. Now, release the arrow.”
Elfi followed his instructions, but her aim was off. She missed the target completely.
“Let me show you something that will improve your accuracy.” Njörd placed his large hands on either side of her torso to straighten her posture. She shivered at his touch. “Don’t lean forward. Keep your shoulder aligned with the arrow, and draw it back to anchoryour cheekbone each time. That will help you develop consistency and precision.” He stepped back, inclining his head to encourage her. “Now, make those slight adjustments. And try again.”
Elfi concentrated on the proper positioning of her shoulder and upper body as she tightly drew the bowstring back to the corner of her cheek. When she released the arrow, it hit the outer edge of the target. She whirled to face Njörd, whooping for joy. “I did it!”
A proud grin stretched across his bearded face. “An excellent shot. You’re a born archer.” Deep blue eyes ablaze, he handed her another arrow. “Do it again.”
She fired a dozen more shots, only missing the target twice.
“You’ve done very well. But that’s enough for a start. I don’t want you to injure your shoulder. Let’s practice hurling the dagger now. And then we’ll spar with swords.”
He unsheathed his dagger and handed it to her.
She threw the knife toward the target, applying the technique he’d shown her, successfully hitting the outer edge several times.
