The Viking Wants Forever by Koko Brown Page A

force myself on her, and I will not let another man do the same. Do you understand?”
    He didn’t release Bjarni until he nodded in agreement. Once free, the other man flung an arm around his shoulder. Eirik resisted the urge to twist said arm until his friend fell to his knees.
    “We have to put things into motion, my friend. By Haustmánuður you will have your lady under your spell.”
    * * * * *
    B efore the sunset, Reese was second guessing her decision. Dejected, she reached up and fingered the slave collar adorning her neck. Eirik’s mother had delivered it with a smile.
    “I completely forgot about this,” she’d chirped, her voice dripping with ill-contained glee.
    “I’m sure,” Reese had eyed the offensive neck piece made of twisted leather and a bronze plate etched with two bear heads, and her veins had filled with ice.
    “My son had it commissioned days ago. With all the chaos going on around here, it simply slipped my mind. Before you or I found ourselves in trouble, I sent someone to pick it up from the blacksmith this morn.” Brita stepped behind her, draped the collar around Reese’s neck and tied the leather straps into a knot. The woman even had the nerve to adjust the collar, fiddling with it until Reese stepped back. Better that than slapping the woman’s hand away and getting herself into even hotter water.
    “Do all the slaves wear this?”
    Brita nodded. “And most of the indentured servants as well.”
    “Have to make sure everyone knows their place.” Reese had said it so tightly her jaw hurt.
    “Exactly! Everyone knows their place in Skildheim: slaves, freemen, men and women. Despite being Eirik’s mother, I am careful not to overstep my boundaries.”
    With the woman’s warning ringing in her head, Reese had returned to her chores, which at this late hour included serving the evening meal. Per the usual routine, she fell into line to await the first of many dishes she would be required to carry into the main hall.
    “You burn that buck, and I will tan your hide, boy!” Gurta squawked at young Mads. The boy had been delegated the unsavory and extremely boring job of turning the spit.
    Startled, the boy jumped, releasing the brochette.
    “Mads!” Sweating profusely, a wooden spoon clutched in her hand, Gurta stepped toward him threatening to leave her throne—a large kitchen table she used to prep the final dishes.
    “No burn...no burn.” Wide-eyed with fear, the boy dove for the spit handle, and put his back into spinning the skewered deer.
    Gurta pointed two fingers at her eyes, then swung them toward him. Understanding her meaning, Mads churned the spit in a rabid circle.
    Dismissing him with a loud snort Gurta turned back to the line. With quick efficiency, she sliced through two loaves of bread and dumped them into a basket. Thankful for the light load, Reese stepped forward.
    “ Nei .” Gurta picked up the basket. “Vida, take this.” Without questioning the switch, the servant girl stepped forward. “Make sure Rollo does not stop you. That pig thinks we only bake for him.” Vida bobbed her head and then scurried off.
    Reese on the other hand, balked. “Hello, I was next.”
    “ Ja , I know.” Reese eyed the cedar platter Gurta pushed toward her. Noting the large rectangular dish with carved bear head handles, the blood rushed to Reese’s head. “You will serve Eirik tonight.”
    “Wh-why? None of the slaves serve him, only Treske.” Reese looked around for the freeman.
    “Treske will still serve Eirik and his family. You will help.”
    Jaw set tight, Reese fingered the slave collar around her neck. Earlier today she would’ve been overjoyed by the opportunity to get closer to Eirik. Oh, she still wanted to get close to him but only to box his ears.
    “Be on your way.” Gurta hefted the platter heaped with the choicest meats and plopped it in Reese’s arms. “We cannot keep him waiting, and there are plenty more dishes to follow.”
    As she walked