you,” Grelod urged, guiding them to the table. To Mr. Thorgrim, she said in Norwegian, “I want to speak with you alone. Out near the horses, where you’ll be sleeping.”
He eyed her maid with a discerning look and gave a shrug.
“Wait,” Juliana said, before he could follow the older woman outside. His tunic was still wet from the sea water, and he needed something else to wear.
She rummaged through a trunk containing her father’s clothes and brought over one of his shirts, as well as a coat. “These won’t fit you well, but at least it will keep you warm.” Holding it out to him, she saw the slight flare in his eyes, before he nodded his thanks. The sleeves were several inches above his wrists, but the garments were better than nothing.
After he left with Grelod, curiosity urged her to stand near the door, where she could eavesdrop on their conversation. “Hush, Harry,” she told her boy, leaning against the wood. She overheard her maid speaking in Norwegian to the man, but the woman’s words made little sense.
“The moon will complete its phases in a month,” Grelod was saying. “Your time grows short.”
“And how would you know this?”
“I know what you are. And I know from whence you came, Viking. I prayed to Freya on my lady’s behalf, and the goddess summoned you here for her.”
Summoned ? Juliana frowned, not understanding what her maid meant by that.
“Was it you who kept me from my afterlife?” he demanded, his voice filled with fury.
“You did not wish to die, did you?” When Arik gave no answer, Grelod continued. “Juliana needs your help, and you were chosen by the gods for it. But such magic cannot last beyond the moon. I have foreseen it. Death will come, and a great reward awaits the one who makes the necessary sacrifice.”
A silence descended between them, and a sudden chill came over her. Although Grelod had always believed in magic and foretelling the future, Juliana thought it was all nonsense. She only trusted what she could see or touch.
And yet, last night, there had been too many unexplained events. Hadn’t her boat been swept out to sea, leaving her in danger of drowning? Every part of that night defied logic. Her father’s boat was still missing, and a longboat was here in its place. The man who had come to her was primitive and domineering.
She could almost believe that he was conjured, not real. Like one of the Greek gods, brought down to earth to seduce a human woman. But could he be a Viking?
No. He reminded her of someone she had met, though she couldn’t remember who. He was only a man—and a familiar one—not some lost soul summoned from another time.
And yet, her body had reveled in Arik’s touch. She could not forget his hands upon her skin, the aching sensuality of his body moving inside hers. The memory was raw enough to arouse her once again.
Stop this. She wouldn’t allow herself to fall beneath that spell. Her mind shielded itself from thoughts of the impossible, as she turned back to her son. She distracted herself by serving Harry the fish Grelod had cooked, eating her own small portion.
When Thorgrim and her maid returned, she tried to behave as if she’d overheard nothing at all. But as she ate, she could feel his eyes upon her, watching. Juliana stole a few glances at him, noticing how her father’s shirt strained against his muscles. He was a man who could easily be mistaken for an immortal god, with his fierce nature and strong sensuality.
Clearly, her brain was turning soft.
But as he ate, he used his hands to pick up the food, not touching the fork she’d placed beside his plate. He drank the ale she’d given him and seemed pleased by the meal. Juliana finished her food and stood from the table, helping Grelod clear the dishes away.
“Will you show me where I am to sleep?” he asked.
“I thought Grelod…” Her words trailed away when she suddenly realized that this was his way of wanting to talk with her
He eyed her maid with a discerning look and gave a shrug.
“Wait,” Juliana said, before he could follow the older woman outside. His tunic was still wet from the sea water, and he needed something else to wear.
She rummaged through a trunk containing her father’s clothes and brought over one of his shirts, as well as a coat. “These won’t fit you well, but at least it will keep you warm.” Holding it out to him, she saw the slight flare in his eyes, before he nodded his thanks. The sleeves were several inches above his wrists, but the garments were better than nothing.
After he left with Grelod, curiosity urged her to stand near the door, where she could eavesdrop on their conversation. “Hush, Harry,” she told her boy, leaning against the wood. She overheard her maid speaking in Norwegian to the man, but the woman’s words made little sense.
“The moon will complete its phases in a month,” Grelod was saying. “Your time grows short.”
“And how would you know this?”
“I know what you are. And I know from whence you came, Viking. I prayed to Freya on my lady’s behalf, and the goddess summoned you here for her.”
Summoned ? Juliana frowned, not understanding what her maid meant by that.
“Was it you who kept me from my afterlife?” he demanded, his voice filled with fury.
“You did not wish to die, did you?” When Arik gave no answer, Grelod continued. “Juliana needs your help, and you were chosen by the gods for it. But such magic cannot last beyond the moon. I have foreseen it. Death will come, and a great reward awaits the one who makes the necessary sacrifice.”
A silence descended between them, and a sudden chill came over her. Although Grelod had always believed in magic and foretelling the future, Juliana thought it was all nonsense. She only trusted what she could see or touch.
And yet, last night, there had been too many unexplained events. Hadn’t her boat been swept out to sea, leaving her in danger of drowning? Every part of that night defied logic. Her father’s boat was still missing, and a longboat was here in its place. The man who had come to her was primitive and domineering.
She could almost believe that he was conjured, not real. Like one of the Greek gods, brought down to earth to seduce a human woman. But could he be a Viking?
No. He reminded her of someone she had met, though she couldn’t remember who. He was only a man—and a familiar one—not some lost soul summoned from another time.
And yet, her body had reveled in Arik’s touch. She could not forget his hands upon her skin, the aching sensuality of his body moving inside hers. The memory was raw enough to arouse her once again.
Stop this. She wouldn’t allow herself to fall beneath that spell. Her mind shielded itself from thoughts of the impossible, as she turned back to her son. She distracted herself by serving Harry the fish Grelod had cooked, eating her own small portion.
When Thorgrim and her maid returned, she tried to behave as if she’d overheard nothing at all. But as she ate, she could feel his eyes upon her, watching. Juliana stole a few glances at him, noticing how her father’s shirt strained against his muscles. He was a man who could easily be mistaken for an immortal god, with his fierce nature and strong sensuality.
Clearly, her brain was turning soft.
But as he ate, he used his hands to pick up the food, not touching the fork she’d placed beside his plate. He drank the ale she’d given him and seemed pleased by the meal. Juliana finished her food and stood from the table, helping Grelod clear the dishes away.
“Will you show me where I am to sleep?” he asked.
“I thought Grelod…” Her words trailed away when she suddenly realized that this was his way of wanting to talk with her
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