The air between them stilled, then a sudden shower of snowflakes came to blur his vision.
“Why are telling me this?” Eahlswith said in an agonized whisper.
He ran a hand through his hair, barely resisting the impulse to tug at it in helplessness. Why was he telling her exactly? Why did he feel the need to expose his vulnerability? To show herjust how much he cared about whatever was between them, how much he wanted to see it grow? All this when it was clear she didn’t care?
Why was he being such a fool?
“Because you need to know that no one but you interests me,” he said through gritted teeth. “I cannot rid myself of the idea that we what we have is something special. And I think it’s the same for you, even if you refuse to admit it. Tell me, Alva, that last night you didn’t enjoy feeling me?—”
“Stop calling me Alva!” she erupted.
“Why?” Why did she object to the name so much? It was hardly in insult. And why wasshegetting angry, exactly? She was not the one being discarded like so much dirt on the ground.
“Because it’s not my name,” she said lifting both hands to the milky skies. “How would you like it if I called you…Heimdallr?”
“Heimdallr?” Why on earth would she choose that name for him? How did she even know about the god of war? Saxons usually didn’t know anything about the Norse gods, preferring a single deity with no power he could discern and who didn’t even seem able or inclined to roam the human world.
He followed the direction of Eahlswith’s gaze, which had landed on Gulltoppr, tethered just behind him. She knew that the golden-maned horse belonged to Heimdallr then. This was why she had thought of this name. The woman was full of surprises.
His bitterness vanished.
“How do you know so much about Norse gods, anyway?” he asked, both pleased and unaccountably aroused.
She shrugged, her own anger spent. “Cwenthryth is fascinated by them, and being married to Steinar, she’s had the opportunity to learn. She’s started teaching me what she knows. I have to admit, it is rather fascinating.”
It would be, he supposed, for someone used to the single deity who didn’t own a horse, a raven, a hammer or anything else of note.
“Well, to answer your question, I would love it if you called me Heimdallr,” he growled, drawing her into his arms. They couldn’t part like this, not without a kiss, at least. “It would make me feel like a god outside of bed as well.”
She rolled her eyes at his answer calculated to exasperate her. But he was not jesting. This woman made him feel like no other had.
“Sven…”
Ah, his name in her mouth. He remembered how she had whispered it in surrender last night, before finally losing all restraint and ordering him to fuck her. It had been one of the most satisfying moments of his life. Unable to stop himself, he took her mouth in a kiss he’d intended to be fiery but which ended up being achingly tender. He put in it all he had not been able to tell her, and all he hoped to be able to tell her one day.
“This is what I mean,” he breathed against her lips. “Don’t tell me you don’t feel like one of the goddesses right now?”
Without waiting for her answer, he vaulted onto Gulltoppr’s back. Eahlswith was looking at him, her black eyes huge.
“This isn’t over. Alva. Mark me, even if you don’t want to come and see me, fate will ensure we do meet again.”
7
No sooner had Sven ridden through the town gate than he was proven right.
A rider was cantering in the opposite direction, coming toward him on a familiar horse. Steinar, on Fáfnir. As soon as he saw him, his brother brought the stallion down to a walk and joined him by the side of the road.
“What are you doing here?”
His brother didn’t know about his plans to repair Osbert’s roof. No one knew, and he wasn’t about to admit to it.
“I spent two days in town,” Sven answered. He often did, so there was nothing suspicious in that. “What about you?”
“Cwenthryth sent me to get her friend Eahlswith. You know, the one who visited the other day, after Liv’s birth?”
“Yes, I do know who you mean.”
Indeed. He’d just said goodbye to her with the most amazing kiss. Only the night before he’d been buried deep inside her, making her moan in the most scandalous way. Mm, he really, really liked the way she moaned.
