She whines, pressing her back into his chest. “Mark me!”
He gathers her curls at the base of her head and tugs, feeling his release building. His final push into her has himfuriously unloading his seed as if he will never cease. Filling her so much that it spills out onto the bedding.
He releases her hair while collapsing at her side. His arms hold her close as if she might vanish.
“No god owns my soul, beautiful girl. Forevermore, it is you I pray to. Whatever happens next, know you are my salvation.”
37
SIGVID
October 15th, Year 21, 10th Era
Blackwood Estate, Treland
Black storm clouds roll in off the South Sea. On the horizon, lightning flashes into the waves, illuminating the sheer power of the growing tempest.
All week, sailors whisper that a force of terrifying proportions heads for Toftlund. Nothing that has ever been seen in centuries.
In preparation, Sigvid, Avina, and their son, Bjorn, spent the days leading up to the prophesied storm ensuring that every home was boarded up and supplies made ready.
Sigvid cleaves the last log in his woodpile to find Bjorn already finished, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed.
“Getting slower, Pops. How will you ever keep Toftlund warm while I am away in Steinlund?”
Cheeky bastard. He gets that from me.
“Careful, or I shall swap the lines of succession, and you can be king.” He threatens, enjoying the flash of discomfort in his son’s gray eyes.
To think Bjorn’s life began on the streets of humble Sjoby. Yet,neither he nor Thora desires the Treland throne, leaving the heavy crown to fall on Aura.
Sigvid’s forehead wrinkles as he stares out at the stormy swell as they traipse back inside. Servants hammer the final nail into the glass A-frame, plunging the central space into an unnatural darkness.
Avina has three lanterns waiting for them on the long dining table. “We are prepared to hunker down, Sig.”
He pulls her roughly to his chest, savoring the scent of her floral bouquet. “Do the girls know how to prepare for the storm? It will likely strike Sjoby, and with Mother’s second broken leg, I worry about her movement.”
Bless Thora and Aura for tending to Frida and putting down an uprising simultaneously. Who knew there was such trouble in that hamlet?
“I trust them, don’t you?” She kisses his cheek.
He smirks as she thanks the servants, ushering them back to their homes.
What a Queen she has become.
“Has someone double-checked the windows in the guest wing?” He looks at Bjorn, who shrugs.
“I spent the day with you, Pops.”
Sigvid takes the steps two at a time, knowing he will not rest until he has inspected every corner of Blackwood.
Thora’s room is unsurprisingly immaculate, with her collection of knives hung on the wall evenly and precisely. Nearly as pristine is Bjorn’s room. His small chests full of treasures are locked and secure on the floor.
The remaining rooms are boarded shut.
He hesitates when he reaches Aura’s door at the end of the corridor.
Since he awoke from the Azure, there is still a gap in his memory from when he entered the longhouse that night until Isabel injected him.
