“It has to. We’re not animals.”
“But they will want me dead.”
“No doubt.”
“They will twist the law… they will?—”
A harsh knock at the door makes my heart leap into my chest. Instantly sweat breaks out all over my skin. Ari isn’t startled. No reaction. I only see his hand move slowly to the gladius at his belt. He’s ready to protect me. To die for me.
Again, a violent knock. Much harder this time. The door is shaking. The walls. The entire house. I turn to Ari, panicked. He just holds a finger to his mouth and then places his hand on my shoulder to calm me.
A voice comes through the door. A voice I know all too well. He doesn’t shout. It’s just loud enough to penetrate the wood.
“I know you’re in there, witch,” says Vidar.
I tense up. He will want revenge. He will want to be repaid in blood. Ari shakes his head and holds a finger to his lips again. I am to stay quiet. Vidar scrapes something against the door.
“My blade thirsts for you, you bitch. My father is weak. He wants proof of your crime. But not me.”
I choke a sob. Ari pulls me to his chest as Vidar continues.
“When the law calls for your execution, I will be there. I will personally request to be the one to end your life. Slowly.”
He laughs. Evil, wicked. The man who charmed me now wants to gut me.
“I know what you did,” he says. “I care not for the law. I will see you squirm, you filthy witch, you and that ergi skald of yours.”
Ari tenses at the insult. But he controls himself. Vidar’s threat lingers in the air as silence takes hold. No sound fromoutside. He has left. Sigurd wants a trial. He wants the law to prevail.
“Do I have a chance?” I whisper to Ari.
“The law would protect you. But Vidar was clear. He cares not for the law.”
My stomach drops. I’m a fucking dead woman. A slow death. I don’t want to squirm at the hands of Vidar. I want to live. I want to breathe.
“I’m dead,” I whisper as I sob into Ari’s leather.
“No chance. I’ll cut him open.”
I raise myself and look at him.
“Do you mean it?”
“You are mine, Kilda, not Vidar’s. Not Sigurd’s.”
My breath stalls. Mine? What the fuck does that even mean?
“I’m yours? But?—”
“You are not a slave. You are mine. No one touches you.”
He claims me without chains. A part of me wants to lean into his words, like I’m leaning into him now. But it’s madness. He’s a fucking skald. A charming Jotnar skald. If he doesn’t eat me, he will leave me. Besides, will he want the life of a fugitive? Being an outlaw, just for me?
“But Vidar?—”
“Vidar will regret his empty threats. On my honor.”
Tears escape my eyes. If fate wants to bind me, it picked the worst fucking moment. This is what it has come to. I don’t know if I can trust him. But by the gods, I want to.
