She wanted to believe wholeheartedly in this declaration, but everyone she’d known in her life had lied to her. It was difficult to imagine he’d be any different.
As Rey rolled back, Silla mindlessly expressed her light. The orb formed, wobbling above them.
“Look how far you’ve come,” said Rey, expressing a ribbon of smoke. Silently, Silla watched as light and dark swirled together, marveling at how his darkness made her light shine so much brighter. At how her light cast the deepest shadows from the darkness.
“How do you give it a light touch?” she asked. “If I wished to bathe you in starlight, but not…remove body parts.”
“Practice,” was Rey’s reply. He extended a hand, reaching for the orb. But as the light made contact with his finger, he hissed and retracted it.
Silla released her galdur, taking his hand in hers and drawing his finger to her mouth. Eyes meeting his, she sucked gently, melting the frost. Instantly, Rey’s eyes heated. His smoke melted away as he rolled onto her, and she felt his body reawakening.
“Again?” she asked, her own desire stirring deep in her belly.
“I told you,” he grumbled, dragging his nose along hers. “Ialwayswant you. It’s a problem.”
Silla slid her lips against his, whispering, “Let us find a solution, shall we?”
Chapter Fifty-Three
Rey picked at the knots in her curls with gentle tugs of the comb. Seated atop the furs and clad in only his breeches, he’d nestled Silla between his thighs as he teased out the tangles. Sunlight crept beneath the animal hide window coverings, catching motes of dust in the air. The room was scarcely large enough to fit the bed on which they sat, the timber beams overhead showing signs of decay. By anyone else’s standards, the shield-home would be a grim place to lay one’s head. And yet Rey could not think of anywhere he’d rather be. Here, they existed in a bubble, where nothing mattered but the two of them.
As Silla loosed a wide yawn, Rey’s lips curved up. He’d awoken her with soft, sleepy kisses, smiling at her sounds of protest—at the way she’d curled into his chest and tried to fall back asleep. Silla was one who rose at first light with an irritatingly cheery air, but today, she was truly exhausted. Her grumpy demeanor, paired with the disheveled state of her hair, had filled him with satisfaction.
He’d quickly changed her mood with soft strokes of his hands, pulling the blankets back and crawling down her body. And as he’d awoken her with his fingers and tongue, Rey decided he could get used to this. Waking up with the scent of her in his nose. Submitting himself to her idea of retaliation. As she’d nestled herself against his side and slung an arm over his heaving chest, Rey wondered if he’d ever had such a perfect morning.
“And after Geirborg?” he asked, picking at a stubborn knot.
Silla hissed in protest, and he eased back. “We settled in Holt,” she answered,irritation in her voice. “You simplyhadto unbind my hair, didn’t you, Galtung?”
Rey thought of those tendrils sliding against his fingertips as he’d unwound her braid the night before. “Yes.”
She was silent a moment. “I was an underbaker, which meant most of my time was spent bent over the quern-stone, grinding the grain for hours at a time.”
Rey frowned at the thought. “That would’ve been back-breaking work.”
Silla nodded, then flinched as the motion tugged on her hair. “I still bear scars from the blisters. Right here.” Silla held up her hand, showing the red mark on the side of her thumb. Capturing her elbow, Rey directed her hand to his lips, placing a kiss on the scar. Then, he returned his focus to the tangles.
“And you, Galtung?” Silla urged gently. “Jarl Hakon and the Uppreisna’s high chieftains sent you south to apprentice with Kraki. What happened next?” Rey could hear the hesitation in her voice—as though she were afraid he’d rebuke her.
His stomach tensed instinctively, the protective urges Rey had fought against all morning. Sharing himself with another was an uncomfortable process, but he forced himself to answer her question. “Much as Kraki told you, I suppose. I’d trained with a greataxe, but he would not take me on unless I learned how to wield a longsword.”
“I imagine Vig would turn foot and return to the north at that.”
Rey chuckled. “I imagine so.” His brows furrowed as he recalled those days. The pride he’d felt at being the Uppreisna’s youngest covert warrior. The youthful optimism that he’d bring change to the kingdom. Back then, he had yet to feel the frustration that came from years of toiling with little to show for it.
“I practiced with the longsword at first and last light, every day for years. Sigrún, Jonas and Ilías joined us a few years later in Sunnavík. Hekla that spring in Midfjord. Gunnar two years later in Kunafjord. And slowly, we became the Bloodaxe Crew you knew.” He was telling only half of it, skipping the part where his world shattered. But Rey told himself even this was a start.
“Ha,” he muttered as the comb broke through the knot. He began dividing her hair into small sections. For so long, this hair had been just under his nose, driving him mad. Now he wanted to care for it as he cared for her. “You might have noticed,” he murmured, “in the north, the style is to wear several small braids, cuffed with silver rings.” His fingers deftly wove the tendrils together.
“I had noticed,” said Silla, with a deep, satisfied sigh. “Though I’ll admit, you surprise me. To think the fearsome Axe Eyes has any interest in hair.”
“Only this hair.” He pressed his nose into it and inhaled, noting the shiverwhich ran through her body. Rey forced his focus back to the task, twining a handful of small braids and securing them with leather strips. He decided he’d get her silver cuffs the next chance he had.
“You want the good news or the bad news, Galtung?” boomed a loud male voice, the shield-home’s door banging open. Silla gasped in fright, Rey reaching for his dagger. But the moment he recognized the voice as Vig’s, he relaxed, running a soothing hand down Silla’s spine.
“Still abed?” bellowed Vig from beyond the curtain. “Lazy hearthfire fool.”
But he said it with affection, drawing a small smile from Rey. “A minute, Twig Arms!” he barked. “I’ll talk to him,” he whispered in Silla’s ear. “Rest and take your time.”
