Brand had not been given any opportunity to escape. After finishing his dinner, he had been escorted to a small hut situated by itself on the edge of the village by the giant warrior who had found him on the beach. Magnus had called it a guest house, but Brand knew what it really was – a cell. Guest rooms didn’t have guards posted in front of them or doors with locks on the outside. He'd spent the night contemplating his situation, having no luck in coming up with a different story than the one he had already told. After hours of pacing, he gave up and lay down on the thin mattress. The straw the pallet was stuffed with scratched his skin and he wished forlornly for his memory foam bed back in Wyoming. Disgusted with himself at the thought, he turned toward the wall and tried to sleep. His wolf would not rest, however. The creature paced and whined deep within him. It wanted the woman, Ulfhild. Now that there was quiet, he was unable to ignore his wolf's demands that they claim her.
Ulfhild sat in the shadows at a table by herself eating her morning meal. She counted herself lucky she had missed her father this morning. She was not yet ready to face him, and likely more humiliation. She simply wanted to finish her food, complete her chores, and get to the training ring. A good spar with Birger or Erik was just what she needed to rid herself of her intrusive thoughts of the stranger.As she ate, she noticed Leif come downstairs and head across the room. Her eyes narrowed when she saw who he was approaching. The man, Brandur. Thor's thunder! Could she not escape him? He seemed to pop up in front of her wherever she went. Her mood transformed from irritated to amused, however, as she watched Leif try to command Brandur to follow him. A bemused smile played at her lips as she witnessed the newcomer antagonizing the warrior. His posture was relaxed but his expression was mocking. Though he had no weapons and was in a strange place, he showed no fear of the young warr
Ulfhild pulled her ear from the door as she heard the scraping of chairs and boots on wood that signaled the meeting was breaking up. She barely made it back down to the main room before the stranger and Sigurd, followed by the rest of the warriors left her father's office and came tromping loudly down the stairs. He was letting the man train with the warriors? A man he knew nothing about. Yet, she, who was battle-tested and trained harder than any of his warriors, was shunted aside.Marching from the longhouse, she fought back angry tears. Nothing she did was ever enough for the man! She had proven herself over and over, but still he insisted on treating her as some useless female. Or worse, looking at her askance as if she might cast a spell on him at any moment. She'd never given him any reason to believe that she had powers like her mother, but he was suspicious all the same. When he had humiliated her in front of his warriors last night, her fingers had tingled to let just a frac
She stared until the man and Leif were out of her sight, then left the headland in a fury. The man was completely infuriating. Insufferable. Intolerable. Plumes of white breath billowed from her mouth as she marched across the half-frozen landscape trying to dispel the anger and frustration burning in her chest. When she reached the small wood on the east edge of the village, she invoked the words of power that allowed her to pass through the protective spell her mother had placed there. Heading straight for the clearing in the middle, she inhaled the warm air and reveled in the nature that surrounded her. The meadow there lived in perpetual summer with green grass underfoot covered in vibrant wildflowers. Chittering and chirping from the small animals and birds that were found there welcomed her. The wood was her refuge from her father's otherwise frigid, windswept lands. No one could come here but her mother and her acolytes. Only those who were trusted with the ancient incantation
The next morning, Ulfhild stood on the slight hill just outside the village and watched the village come to life. She'd been up for hours, already having completed a warm up and bow practice in the empty training grounds. She always did more than any other warrior. She had to. Now she stood on high ground, watching for any threat. Another hour of sentry duty and she could return to the training fields to spar with the other warriors. Ulfhild told herself she was simply doing her duty. As one of the junior warriors, boring duties such as watching over the village as the farmers and people started their day, were something she was accustomed to. In truth, her eyes locked on and followed only the stranger as he stood near the kitchens with Eric and Birger. They laughed together, and Ulfhild's mouth turned down in a frown at their easy companionship. "You're watching him again, min søte." Ulfhild's eyes did not turn to acknowledge her mother's presence. "I don't know who you mean," Ulf
Later, after the evening meal, Brand managed to slip his friendly guard and sit on a bench outside the longhouse alone. Oh, he was sure someone was aware that he had left, and it would not be long before his reprieve would be over, but he would take what he could get. Though he had felt too closely controlled by his brother at home, he wasn't watched twenty-four-seven. Brand felt the weight of it like a heavy shroud over his shoulders.He closed his eyes and breathed in the sharp night air appreciating the smells and sounds of the sea. His family had been land locked in Wyoming for centuries now, living in the middle of a large national forest area. He hadn't realized how much he had missed the ocean. The familiar, briny scent. The soothing sound of the waves hitting the shore. The occasional sea bird calling overhead. Ah, small things to be thankful for in this time he was stuck in. "Don't react, Brandur the Destroyer." Every muscle tensed as he heard the whispered words behind him.
That night when Brand was taken to his hut, he lay on his bunk and pondered the incredible turn of events over in his mind. Though he was now being allowed to train with the warriors and take his meals with them, he didn't fool himself into believing that he was really any more than a glorified prisoner. They guarded him at night with a warrior at his door. He thought he should probably be rather insulted as his guard was only a very young warrior. The boy couldn't have stopped him leaving if he tried, but, Brand supposed, he could call for reinforcements. They wouldn't trust him with any torches or candles. The hut being too flammable and tempting to burn, he guessed, so he would have only sleep to look forward to soon. A faint light shone through the chinks of the wood that made up his prison hut. Though the days were slowly getting longer, as soon as the sun went down, he was in complete darkness until the following morning. Unable to settle his mind to rest, he got up and looked
The hair on Ulfhild's neck prickled as she followed along in the dance. She'd been participating in this moon rite for so long, her body knew the steps without conscious thought, giving her the ability to sense something else. Someone else. Someone was watching her. She knew it as sure as she felt the sand under her feet. But who would dare? The wood and this area of the beach where the sacred circle stood were enchanted. No one could find them. Unless that someone had magicks as well. Her eyes darted to the nearby trees as she danced by, trying to find the cause of the sudden anxiety twisting in her gut. All she could see were the glowing eyes of some woodland creature. Her breathing came faster as the dance continued, and the patterns became more intricate. A familiar scent wafted faintly from the trees. What was it?She almost tripped when the answer came to her. It was the scent she associated with the stranger, Brandur. But his being here was impossible. He was locked up and gua