I know in that moment that though my mortal body may live, the man I once was is gone. I will never forget Leif or our son.
There will never be another like him. I will take no other mate, care for no other children.
I will live and die alone.
It’s a vow I will keep until I depart this wretched world and join my mate in Valhalla.
Chapter 1
Gunnar
Iceland, year 833
After the destruction of our village and family, Wulfric had led us on a sea voyage in search of a new home. We brought only what we could carry. For me, that was the ashes of my family, kept safe in a box I’d made just for them, and nothing else but the clothes on my back.
Our pack was broken. Father was dead, gone to join Mother in Valhalla, as was the calling of all fallen warriors. Bjorn and Leif were nothing but ash. Soren, the man my brother had wed only a week ago, had been exiled.
The gods-cursed bastard had betrayed us all. The hunters who’d burned our village and killed so many had been there for him. Soren’s own father, once presumed dead, had led the craven assault on our homes while we slept.
We’d taken Soren in after an attack left him the sole survivor of his village. We fed him, clothed him, and trained with him. I called himbrother.But he was no kin of mine. All that time, he’d lied to our faces, to Lyall, and as soon as he was done using my pack for protection, he turned on us all.
It made no sense.
Wulfric led the survivors to an island we came to call Ulfheim. He’d told us this would be the fresh start we needed. We could rebuild, heal.
How do you heal wounds that have cut soul-deep? What’s the point of rebuilding a home if there’s no one to share it with?
There’s not a healer in all the nine realms who can heal a broken heart.
Years passed. A human came to our island for the first time in a long time. Kieran Grove, a man from a place in the future he called New York. I was shocked when Wulfric told us Kieran was his mate and allowed him to join our pack. Lyall remained alone. For as much as I had come to hate Soren, I would never blame Lyall for remaining steadfast in his devotion.
As for Anders, only the gods know what became of him. The fool challenged Wulfric and got himself exiled. He’d changed over the years, becoming cruel and bitter. I wish I could say I missed him, that I felt his absence like a blade between my ribs. But things were quieter without him, more peaceful.
Until the day he returned.
Anders’s roars of fury echo into the sky, scaring birds from the trees and up into the clouds. The cold air burns my lungs; snow sprays behind me as I run. I must hurry. Whatever happened to him has caused Anders to go berserk. Before his wolf took control, he’d told me to find a witch, one he’d left outside of town.
Gods above, can we ever have a peaceful day in this pack?
Buildings blur around me. “Out of the way!” My shout echoes through the streets, startling villagers out of my path. A herd of goats is oblivious to my warning, taking their time to nibble and graze on anything edible on the muddy road. I leap over them, just barely clearing the herd, and don’t stop until I’ve passed the borders of the village.
Gulping down air, I brace myself against my knees. “Where… the bloody fuck… is this damned witch?” I hoist my head up, looking left and right. Not a witch to be seen.
“Right over here, darling.” The voice comes from behind me.
My claws lengthen as I spin around, pressing my hand to a pale, soft neck. The wind rustles a cloak of raven feathers that spills down his back. He’s tall, slender, and snow gathers in hair that shines like polished gold.
Witches usually smell off, like the air before a storm. Heavy, expectant. This witch is scentless. Why? What is he hiding?
The witch’s lips curl into a crooked smile, and he holds his palms up. “Easy there, stud. I’m assuming you’re Anders’s brother? Gunthard, I take it?”
“Gunnar,” I snap, the hair on my arms standing up. That was too close a guess. How?
He slaps his forehead. “Ugh, that’s right. My apologies. Arlo Tenanbaum, agent of the Time Traveler Agency.”
A TTA witch. Here in my home. A growl rumbles in my throat, and I’d like nothing more than to put my claws in his neck. Agents of the TTA are no friends of ulfhednar. They may help preserve the secrets of our world, but they target any wolf who goes berserk and ensure they’re never seen or heard from again. I don’t know why this witch brought Anders to us, but it doesn’t matter, not right now. Though he can’t be trusted, he’s our only hope.
“If my brother weren’t losing his mind, I’d take your head off for daring to set foot here.” As soon as the words leavemy mouth, my claws retract and my fangs become blunt. My wolf can’t stomach the idea of hurting him. Why? He’s never hesitated to defend the pack before. “You’re going to make yourself useful and help him.”
