I turn and my heart leaps into my throat. Behind me stands a man. Tall and muscular, with golden hair tied in a ponytail. Wide glass-green eyes roam over my every feature. For some reason, they’re damp with tears. At his sides, his hands shake where they’re balled into fists. And thenthere’s the way he’s dressed in an antique tunic and cloth trousers despite the freezing weather. As our eyes meet, his lips tremble when he smiles, and shit, it’s a beautiful thing, lighting up his face like a sunbeam. No one’s ever looked at me like this stranger has.
“Can I help you?” I try to keep my voice steady, though my body betrays me by tensing up like we’re about to brawl.
His smile falters to a frown. “It’s me. It’s Lyall.”
Have I heard that name before? When? Where? He says his name as if I should know it. I’m sure I’ve never met this man before in my life, and yet he’s looking at me like I’m his whole world.
“I’m sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else.”
The man, Lyall, takes a step back, blinking like he’s coming out of a daze. His voice is barely a whisper. From the look on his face, you’d have thought I'd just slapped him. But it’s true. I seriously don’t know who he is. Do I?
Damn it, now I’m questioning my own memory.
“I said, you’ve got me confused with someone else.”
Lyall stares at me for so long, it starts to make me uncomfortable.
“I see.” He combs a shaking hand through his hair, blinking fast. “I thought you were… someone I cared about.” He pauses, swallows hard. Whoever he thought I was, he’s clearly shaken up that I’m not them. “Apologies for interrupting your evening.” Moisture dampens the corners of his eyes.
Poor guy. I almost wish I were whoever he was looking for.
“No worries, man.” I offer him a smile. “Hope you find them. Good night.”
He says nothing as he steps backward off the stoop. Guilt’s heavy in my chest when I turn away and stick my key in the lock. Should I offer him some help?
“Hey,” I say, turning toward him.
He’s gone as if I’d imagined him.
A chill that has nothing to do with the crisp night air crawls down my spine.
My legs are shaky as I climb the stairs. It was just a case of mistaken identity. No big deal. Happens to all of us. I didn’t know him. I’ve never met him in my life. Maybe he’s a model, and I saw him in an advertisement a time or two. He’s sure got a face for modeling.
Once I’m upstairs, I lock the door. I put my sandwich in the fridge, suddenly too unsettled to eat dinner. In my bedroom I toss my clothes onto my desk chair, then fall into bed.
The devastation on his face keeps replaying in my head.
Why was he so familiar?
It’s hours before I finally sleep.
Chapter 3
Lyall
Isle of Ulfheim, year833
For years, I have searched for Soren.
Using a branch of Yggdrasil, our holy tree whose branches and roots connect all nine realms, I have traveled to the future to find him just as I promised. My search had yielded nothing but heartache, for I had never been able to locate him.
The moment he’d passed through the portal and into exile, I could no longer feel him through the bond. It was as if he’d simply… vanished. In the days following his exile, I’d mourned my mate as if he had died. It had only been when the weeks passed that hope finally found me.
All ulfhednar from an Alpha bloodline need a mate, chosen or fated, or else they risk going berserk. All berserkers are threats that must be put out of their misery. If Soren were dead, surely I would have lost myself to the berserker’s rage by now.
My younger brother and Alpha, Wulfric, found his mate, Kieran. Gunnar recently found his mate in Arlo,though he rejected the poor witch. Even Anders, my foul-tempered twin, found his mate in Jamie.
I’d begun to fear that I would live the rest of my days alone.
