He truly expects me to pretend to be his husband-to-be? Has he even thought this through? “And if your parents find out we’re lying?”
“They won’t! Probably.”
Shaking my head, I get to my feet. “Get out of my house.”
Arlo bolts from his seat and comes to stand in front of me. “Gunnar, wait! If I succeed in making this potion, you wouldn’t have to take a mate. You’d be cured, and you can go on living your hermit-chic lifestyle without ever having to see me again.”
My wolf growls low in my chest, clearly hating the idea, but to me, it sounds too good to be true. I could stay faithful to Leif without causing my family any pain. “You’re sure this will work?”
“I have no reason to believe it won’t. Trust me. It’s the best alternative you’re going to get. All you have to do is meet my family, play the part of my broody lumbersnack betrothed, and that’s it.”
“You’re forgetting a rather important detail. How are we going to convince your family we’re madly in love?”
My heart beats against the cage of my chest as he comes closer, dark eyes intent upon me. “I don’t know about you,” he says, placing a hand on my chest, “but I’m rather good at pretending.”
His hand is so bloody warm that its warmth seeps through my tunic to heat my skin.
I swallow hard, though my mouth is drier than a desert in one of the Islamic countries my brothers and I have visited. “I… suppose we’ll have to get to know each other well, then.”
Arlo’s plush lips curl into a smile. “Intimately.”
My hand moves before I can stop it, fingers wrapping around his wrist. I need him closer, want to bury my nose in the crook of his neck and bathe in the scent of his magic, heady as the clouds before a storm.
“Your family would not mind that you’re betrothed to a man?” I know humans can be narrow-minded about same-sex unions. I am unsure if witch covens share the sentiment.
“Of course not,” he says without hesitation.
Then there’s no excuse I can dig up to refuse.
We’re doing this. We must.
“Fine.” I yank his hand from my chest. “I’ll play along with this little scheme of yours. But that’s all this is. Pretend. Once this is over, you’ll get your ingredient, I’ll get your potion, and I’ll have no need for a mate. Correct?”
Arlo wrenches his hand from my grip. “Correct,” he says coolly. “Now, take me fishing, and we’ll come up with a plan.”
If we can pull this off, I’ll never have to betray Leif’s place in my heart. I can keep my sanity and keep my vow to love no other until the day Leif and I meet again in Valhalla.
Ignoring the way my wolf howls for Arlo, well… that will be another challenge entirely.
Chapter 4
Arlo
“You’re quite sure thiswooden tub is fit for sailing?” The waves rock us side to side as we row away from shore and, hopefully, not to an icy grave at the bottom of the sea. My fingers ache from how hard I’m gripping the mast.
Gunnar’s full lips lift in a smirk, revealing a hint of fang. “She should be. If your feet get wet, that’s just a little hole in the side of the ship.”
Okay, that’s it. This was the worst idea ever!
“A hole?” I shriek. “You took me sailing in a boat that has a hole—oh, piss off, of course you didn’t!”
Gunnar howls with laughter until the bastard’s almost weeping. I wonder if he’d survive if I pushed him overboard… Around us, the other men rowing the longship cackle. “If you’re to be my pretend mate, you’ve got to find your sea legs. I won’t take a mate who does not love the sea as much as I do.”
“Humans are creatures of the land, not the sea. It’s how we evolved!” Not that he’d have any idea what evolution is. “Though your evolution seems to have stopped in the Stone Age.”
Gunnar closes his eyes, face softening as the wind whips back his dark mane of hair. “Smell that air! I would gladly spend the rest of my days at sea.”
“Did you build this ship yourself?” I’m no sailor, but I’m not oblivious to the beauty of Gunnar’s longship. The sails are a vibrant red and white, billowing in the salty wind. The dragon-headed prow would surely terrify any poor sods unfortunate enough to be raided and pillaged.
