to his desires. Elena was not a woman he could ever have. She had joined with another man and was likely pregnant with an unborn son.
And like a fool, he’d kept pining for her. Hoping for what? That she would divorce her husband and seek him instead? It would never happen. Though he’d watched their marriage falter as her barrenness took away her spirit, Styr wanted to make his wife happy. He’d shown Ragnar the ivory comb he’d bought for Elena as a gift, though he’d not had time to give it to her. He’d planned to offer it when they had finished building their new home together.
Ragnar rested his forehead against the rough bark, knowing that it was time to turn from Elena. She had been sent by the goddess Freya to test his limits, to prove his honour.
It was better to stay far, far away from her. And find another woman to love.
* * *
Elena avoided Ragnar over the next two days. He didn’t speak to her at all about the night he’d touched her and it was better to pretend it hadn’t happened. Every time she remembered the dream, she felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment.
For she remembered the way she’d shamelessly taken his hand to her breast. In the darkness, she’d feigned sleep, though she’d known perfectly well what she was doing. The intensity of her own needs had broken through like a raging fire and she’d said nothing of that night. But her body knew that the dream was only a prophesy of what might happen between them if she allowed it.
She didn’t know what was wrong with her. If anything, she should have dreamed of Styr, not this man. Her hand moved down to her unborn child and she walked along the shore, searching for ships. There had been none since the day she’d spied the fishing boat. Elena was beginning to wonder if she’d imagined it.
Her leather shoes sank into the sand while the cool morning wind buffeted her hair. The sun was bright and she shielded her eyes against it, eyeing the grey water for a glimpse of hope.
In one hand, she carried the axe in the hopes that she might find more fallen limbs or driftwood. Although she’d rebuilt a solid shelter for herself and Ragnar, the time stretched on until she realised she needed more tasks to satisfy her. She’d set some snares for hunting, but an even greater challenge was keeping her distance from the man who attracted her.
It wasn’t right and she locked away the feelings, hoping he would never guess them. Once she was reunited with Styr, her sinful thoughts would vanish.
When it was clear there were no more ships, she climbed the hillside back to the clearing. A sound caught her attention, and she turned towards the west. Listening hard, she tried to detect what it was, but now there was only silence. Still, she kept her grip firmly on the axe as she approached their shelter. Ragnar had been sleeping when she’d left at dawn, but from the nearby coals of a fire it appeared that he, too, was awake.
When she reached the trees where she’d build the small lean-to, there came the sound of men’s voices, speaking the Norse language.
Her heart thundered inside her and she knew . The raiders had come back for her, as she’d feared. And this time, a trick would not deter them. If she wasn’t careful, both of them would die. She wanted to call out to Ragnar, but was afraid her voice would alert the men. Then, too, they were outnumbered.
Elena remained frozen in place, trying to calm the rush of fear roaring in her veins. Instinct demanded that she run, but that would only draw them to her. Her eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for a means of escape. Hiding was her best option.
But before she could take a single step, a man’s voice called out from behind her. ‘I’ve found her!’
Terror iced within her body, numbing her to this fate. They would try to rape her, beating her until at last they killed her. She had no doubt of it.
She couldn’t stand here and let it happen. There was no way to know where Ragnar
And like a fool, he’d kept pining for her. Hoping for what? That she would divorce her husband and seek him instead? It would never happen. Though he’d watched their marriage falter as her barrenness took away her spirit, Styr wanted to make his wife happy. He’d shown Ragnar the ivory comb he’d bought for Elena as a gift, though he’d not had time to give it to her. He’d planned to offer it when they had finished building their new home together.
Ragnar rested his forehead against the rough bark, knowing that it was time to turn from Elena. She had been sent by the goddess Freya to test his limits, to prove his honour.
It was better to stay far, far away from her. And find another woman to love.
* * *
Elena avoided Ragnar over the next two days. He didn’t speak to her at all about the night he’d touched her and it was better to pretend it hadn’t happened. Every time she remembered the dream, she felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment.
For she remembered the way she’d shamelessly taken his hand to her breast. In the darkness, she’d feigned sleep, though she’d known perfectly well what she was doing. The intensity of her own needs had broken through like a raging fire and she’d said nothing of that night. But her body knew that the dream was only a prophesy of what might happen between them if she allowed it.
She didn’t know what was wrong with her. If anything, she should have dreamed of Styr, not this man. Her hand moved down to her unborn child and she walked along the shore, searching for ships. There had been none since the day she’d spied the fishing boat. Elena was beginning to wonder if she’d imagined it.
Her leather shoes sank into the sand while the cool morning wind buffeted her hair. The sun was bright and she shielded her eyes against it, eyeing the grey water for a glimpse of hope.
In one hand, she carried the axe in the hopes that she might find more fallen limbs or driftwood. Although she’d rebuilt a solid shelter for herself and Ragnar, the time stretched on until she realised she needed more tasks to satisfy her. She’d set some snares for hunting, but an even greater challenge was keeping her distance from the man who attracted her.
It wasn’t right and she locked away the feelings, hoping he would never guess them. Once she was reunited with Styr, her sinful thoughts would vanish.
When it was clear there were no more ships, she climbed the hillside back to the clearing. A sound caught her attention, and she turned towards the west. Listening hard, she tried to detect what it was, but now there was only silence. Still, she kept her grip firmly on the axe as she approached their shelter. Ragnar had been sleeping when she’d left at dawn, but from the nearby coals of a fire it appeared that he, too, was awake.
When she reached the trees where she’d build the small lean-to, there came the sound of men’s voices, speaking the Norse language.
Her heart thundered inside her and she knew . The raiders had come back for her, as she’d feared. And this time, a trick would not deter them. If she wasn’t careful, both of them would die. She wanted to call out to Ragnar, but was afraid her voice would alert the men. Then, too, they were outnumbered.
Elena remained frozen in place, trying to calm the rush of fear roaring in her veins. Instinct demanded that she run, but that would only draw them to her. Her eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for a means of escape. Hiding was her best option.
But before she could take a single step, a man’s voice called out from behind her. ‘I’ve found her!’
Terror iced within her body, numbing her to this fate. They would try to rape her, beating her until at last they killed her. She had no doubt of it.
She couldn’t stand here and let it happen. There was no way to know where Ragnar
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