Passion's Fury (Viking's Fury Book 3) Read online

  Thorolf stood then and closed the distance between them. “I’ve waited days to see you like this.” He tried to hug her, but Runa stepped out of reach.

  “Waited? Or conveniently forgot about me?”

  Thorolf looked completely baffled. “Never,” he denied. “You are the reason I am standing here now, reunited with my men and wearing this crown.”

  She sniffled, touched by his words but doubting herself. “I am overjoyed for you, Thorolf. Believe me, I am. However, the man I fell in love with is no longer here. He disappeared the moment the high priest reminded you of your true identity.”

  “The high priest didn’t remind me of anything. I carried that secret around year after year, burdened by it. He insisted I accept the truth. Take back what was mine.”

  A desperate need filled her. “I never wish to be a hardship, an obligation you cannot escape.”

  “Runa…” This time he didn’t give her a choice. Thorolf swept her off her feet and carried her to the couch. He sat down and balanced her on his knees. “Look at me.”

  Tears blurred her vision, but she tried to meet his steady gaze.

  “What nonsense have those temple maidens been filling your head with?’

  “N-nothing at all. Only the truth about my misdirected passion to join their order. I romanticized my childish dream as any inexperienced girl does. My eyes are open now, Thorolf. Not only to this place, but the life I might not have becoming your wife.”

  He thumbed a stray tear off her cheek. “Not have? I don’t understand.”

  “I never wish to become an afterthought.”

  He frowned, cupped her face between both palms, and kissed her gently. “You think I’d forget you? Lock you away as some bastard husbands do once a woman has given him children? Is this your honest opinion of me, Runa?”

  “I-I….”

  “Have I given you reason to question my intentions? To doubt my affection and love?”

  “No.”

  “To cast me into the same pile of filth that some men deserve to be put in? Faithless swine that they are?”

  “Never.” He sounded so angry and she immediately regretted sharing her deepest worries. Thorolf would naturally hate anyone disloyal—his uncle betrayed him in the worst way, leaving him an orphan with no home. Thorolf needed her to love him, to restore his faith in family. “Forgive me. I couldn’t see past my own fear. Everything has happened so quickly. And there’s the question of my maid’s whereabouts and Prince Axel. I mourn their loss. I am a prisoner of my own guilt.”

  “This is all that matters to me, Runa.” He laced his fingers with hers, then moved their hands over his pounding heart. “The source of my lifeblood. It beats for you. Only you.”

  She believed him.

  “Never let anything come between us. I’d rather you ask me a question than hold the negative emotions inside until your doubt festers into something more destructive. I am always here for you, Runa.” He stood with her in his arms and she clung to his neck, her head resting against his broad chest.

  Their gazes locked in unspoken passion. She could see and feel the love radiating from his body. Then he deposited her on the edge of the couch and crouched at her feet.

  “You were my queen long before today,” he declared, his warm fingers sliding up her legs underneath her skirt. “The only woman I’ve ever loved.”

  She spread her thighs and relaxed against the back of the couch, letting him touch her—hoping he’d take her now.

  Thorolf shoved her skirt above her knees and Runa lifted her hips so he could expose her torso. The moment his soft lips made contact with her core, she arched her neck, sighing in utter pleasure. It had been too long since he’d touched her this way. His thick, strong fingers she’d grown to love thrust inside of her demandingly.

  “Come for me, Runa,” he growled, licking her again. “Now.”

  Merciless, his tongue and fingers circled over her flesh. He nipped the sensitive spot that made her see stars whenever she peaked, adding another finger to torture her with, filling her completely.

  “Thorolf,” she moaned. “Please…”

  He gazed up at her. “I will do things to you tomorrow night you will never forget. After our vows.” Then he slid up her body and captured her mouth savagely. As their tongues tangled together, she tasted her own body and it excited her.

  “I want to hear you groan with pleasure, Runa.” The kisses deepened as he stroked her between the legs with more urgency.

  “I-I love you,” she whispered between shallow breaths, the faint throb of ecstasy building.

  “Aye,” he hissed. “And I love you, my queen.”

  She couldn’t hold back any longer. She dug her fingernails into the sides of his head, pulling him closer, wishing he could climb inside her body and never leave. She burst and Thorolf stopped moving and closed his eyes as she throbbed around his fingers.

  “Tis wonderful,” she murmured once she caught her breath.

  “Aye,” he agreed. “A gift from the gods we must never take for granted. I will have you this way every night, Runa. Spread beneath me. I will never give you another chance to doubt my feelings. And this…” He pulled back just enough so he could caress her belly. “I will keep filled with our treasured babes.”

  Everything she ever wanted in this world sat before her. There was no room left in her heart for confusion. What she missed growing up, her mother and love from her father, shouldn’t dominate her thoughts or make her doubt the possibility of gaining true contentment. They’d forge their own future. Have many sons and daughters. Win the hearts of their people, together. Thorolf loved her and she loved him. Until Ragnarok came and, quite possibly, long after.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The next evening, Thorolf wondered if any man could be more fortunate than him. Riveted by Runa’s ethereal beauty, the silvery-green gown she wore, and the splendor of the sanctuary, he felt unworthy. The room had been decorated with hundreds of lit candles, evergreen wreaths, and colorful ribbons. The warmth and joy inside made him forget the bitter cold of winter.

  Fifteen temple maidens preceded Runa down the main aisle of the chamber, holding a single candle, heads bowed in reverence to the gods. As each one approached the altar where Thorolf waited with the high priest, they curtsied and then formed a semicircle to the left of the dais. Finally, after the last maiden moved aside, Thorolf fully beheld his bride—a radiant smile on her lips. He stretched his hand out and she took it, her eyes focused solely on him.

  “Lady Runa,” the high priest greeted her.

  “Sir.” She curtsied.

  “Are you ready to begin King Thorolf? Lady Runa?”

  “Aye,” they answered together.

  “The light and hope in this world is never more pronounced than when a man and maid find love. True love. And when the gods bless the union, the celebration is that much sweeter. King Thorolf of Borg and Lady Runa of the Trondelag are the blessed recipients of such a rare gift.”

  Thorolf turned slightly, taking Runa’s other hand in his.

  “Though the circumstances surrounding the way these two found each other sadden us, from the ashes, hope is reborn. Lives were lost to protect the innocent. And those men will never be forgotten.”

  “King Thorolf and Lady Runa, do you recognize the supremacy of Odin, pledge faith in the gods, swear allegiance to each other, forsaking all others—even to death.”

  Thorolf squeezed Runa’s tiny hands. “Aye. Until Allfather demands my life.”

  “Lady Runa?”

  “Aye. Until Allfather demands my life.”

  “Kneel before the altar,” the priest directed.

  Thorolf waited for her to settle on the silk pillow first, then started to lower himself.

  “In the name of Odin,” a deep voice boomed, “What are you doing with my sister?”

  Thorolf regained his balance and swung around, finding Jarl Roald and thirty of his best warriors standing at the back of the sanctuary.
“Roald,” he said, hoping to make peace with his new brother-in-law before violence broke out.

  “Roald?” he hissed, stalking forward. “Is this how you address your master? Weeks away from home have made you forget your place, Captain Thorolf. I am sure I can help you remember.”

  Murmurs sounded from below.

  “Jarl Roald,” the high priest interjected, stepping off the raised stage. “I expected your arrival days ago.”

  Roald smirked. “Even I am not capable of controlling the weather, Priest.”

  The high priest nodded. “Even so, I could not delay the ceremony any longer. I am sure you will find everything in order. This marriage will benefit your family and the temple.”

  “How so? Runa was meant to wed a man of wealth and rank, not a common soldier.” Roald came even closer to the dais.

  Thorolf clenched his fists at his sides, reminding himself that his former lord didn’t know who or what he was. “I am no longer your servant or a soldier.”

  “No?” Roald looked about. “You can dress in fine robes and walk about this place like a king, but when you strip yourself naked at night, you will still be the man I know—a fatherless bastard who took advantage of my sister and betrayed my trust.”

  At those belittling words, Thorolf’s captains surged forward, weapons drawn, surrounding him like a defensive wall.

  “Please,” the high priest said. “There is no need for bloodshed or insults. Jarl Roald is unaware of who he addresses.”

  “The only person I wish to speak with is my sister. Runa! Come down here.”

  Thorolf turned to his beloved bride. “Do you wish to talk to him?”

  “Aye. He deserves to hear the truth.”

  “Very well. We will go together.”

  Hand-in-hand, Thorolf guided Runa around his men until they stood a few feet away from her enraged brother. “Speak your words, Jarl Roald.”

  “Runa,” Roald muttered. “What is this? Why have you agreed to marry this man? I gave you every consideration. Trusted you. You were headed to Prince Axel’s home.”

  She swallowed, her body shaking a bit, but not afraid to meet her brother’s gaze. “I never intended to marry Prince Axel, Roald. Surely you knew it.”

  “Aye. The moment you left home I knew you had lied to me. But how could I recall you without insulting Axel? I hoped you’d change your mind and realize what a good man he was. But I see the poor prince never had a chance. Thorolf saw to it, I’m sure.”

  Roald’s accusatory tone angered Thorolf. He let go of Runa’s hand and pushed her behind him. “Speak plainly.”

  “You claim Jarl Skrymir murdered Axel’s men and mine. Why do you still live? Where is the prince’s body? Are there any other witnesses?”

  “Jarl Roald…” The high priest stepped between the men. “You will address King Thorolf with respect. The same honor you demand for yourself. I assure you the king harmed no one. He was a victim of Skrymir’s treachery as much as your sister was. Both sought safety within these walls and both shall have it.”

  “What did you call him?”

  “King Thorolf of Borg.”

  “Runa?”

  “It is true, Roald. There is much to tell, but not here, not in front of the guests.”

  Roald glared at Thorolf, his narrowed gaze wandering up his body and stopping on the crown atop his head. “You are the rumored lost son?”

  “Aye.”

  “Shite!” Roald raked his fingers through his hair. “Why did you hide it?”

  “There are many reasons. Some known, others will stay a secret and follow me to the grave.”

  “And this?” Roald motioned between Thorolf and Runa. “How long has this relationship been going on? Have you spoiled my sister? Is she pregnant? Is that the reason for this rushed ceremony?”

  “Bite your tongue, Roald.” Thorolf had heard enough. He gripped Roald by the front of his tunic, ready to shake the life out of him. “Never insult my bride.”

  “She is my sister,” Roald spit, burying his fist in Thorolf’s shirt. “And from what I heard, not yet your wife. I arrived in time to stop this wedding. She will accompany me home.”

  “No.” Thorolf gave him a teeth-rattling shake. Though taller and heavier than Roald, Thorolf knew how fearless his former lord was. He had won Thorolf’s admiration long ago. None of that mattered now. If he tried to take Runa away, he’d kill the man.

  “Stop it!” Runa flung herself at them, tears in her eyes. “Leave him alone, Roald.” She slapped at her brother’s fisted hand. “Let me be happy. Let me be loved for the first time in my life. Why would you care where I ended up? Did the gods not bless you with a wife and children already? And Konal? I am nothing to you.”

  Roald’s mouth opened and he slowly let go of Thorolf’s tunic. “Nothing to me? Where did you get that idea? Who told you I didn’t love you?”

  “You did, a hundred times. With every disapproving stare, every frown, every time you refused to hug or kiss me, or listen to what I had to say.”

  “Damn you,” he muttered. “Damn me for never realizing it.”

  His posture changed and Thorolf signaled for his captains to stand down. “If you will give us your blessing, Jarl Roald, I will work hard to make your sister the happiest woman alive. And I will sign a treaty with you, guaranteeing our partnership in trade and war. My sword is yours. My friendship and respect unwavering.”

  Roald’s gaze lingered on Thorolf for a long moment before he looked at Runa again. “He is the man you love?”

  “Aye.”

  “You wish to be a queen?”

  “I am still struggling with the idea.”

  Roald gave her a sad smile. “Borg is far away, Runa. Tis like a different world.”

  “I know.”

  “Have you caught Jarl Skrymir?” he asked Thorolf. “I can taste his blood, I want revenge.”

  Thorolf understood that need. “Winter has hit hard in the high country. We search a wide area day and night hoping to find a trace of the bloody bastard. We’ve had no luck. As soon as the snow melts, I will gather my best men and make war on his mountain stronghold and strip away everything he holds dear.”

  “I, too, pledge my army,” Roald said, offering his arm.

  “Add a hundred men from the temple guard,” the high priest said as Thorolf clutched his brother-in-law’s forearm in friendship and peace.

  “I swear before Odin,” Thorolf said.

  “You have my blessing, Runa.”

  “I do?” She couldn’t believe it. Roald had never given in to anything so easily. “Truly?”

  “Aye.”

  She rushed into her brother’s loving embrace. “Thank you, Roald. I will make you proud of me someday.”

  “I already am.” He lifted her chin and stared into her eyes. “Now hurry, before I change my mind.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  After a very intoxicated Roald had stumbled over to give his sister a last kiss before he went to bed and the high priest had gifted his new wife with a pair of gold goblets to carry to her new home in Borg, that’s when Thorolf could no longer wait to get his bride alone. He’d shared her enough. Watched her sip her wine, play with the meat and vegetables on her trencher, and offer smiles to every stranger that came forward to meet the new queen.

  “I’ve been patient, Wife,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Oh?” she asked, an attractive blush rose in her cheeks.

  “Very.”

  “Surely you can tolerate a little more, we will never have another night like this again. We get one wedding celebration and a lifetime of joy together.”

  “I disagree.” Thorolf nibbled on the side of her neck. “We get one wedding night—which will lead to a lifetime of happiness.”

  “You’ve made this claim many times over the last couple of weeks, but I have nothing to compare it to. I must place my blind trust in you. Would you do the same, Husband?” She arched a brow in challenge.

  “I’ll a
lways follow you, Runa. Eyes wide open or as a blind as an old woman. Tell me what your heart desires at this very moment, I will give it to you as a bride gift.”

  “Anything?”

  “Aye.”

  “Purchase the temple maiden, Haldana’s freedom from the high priest and the guard named Balfer. Let them journey to Borg with us and start a new life.”

  Thorolf couldn’t help but chuckle at his wife’s cleverness. “You tricked me, Runa.” He admired the delicate circlet of gold on her head, embellished with amber and a single ruby at the center—the crown that belonged to his mother. “Spoken like a true queen.”

  “Will you do it?”

  “Temple maidens are as sacred as oaths. It will take more than a king’s share of gold to buy her freedom.”

  “I understand,” she said as she unclasped the gold choker around her neck and dropped it on the table in front of him. “This should cover her ransom, no?”

  “You’d trade your mother’s necklace for the woman?”

  “More if I had all my jewels here.”

  “She means that much to you?”

  Runa nodded. “The friend I always wished for. And the soldier is her lover.”

  “If the high priest knew of her infidelity, he’d slit her throat.”

  “All the more reason to rescue her from this place. Though I respect what the temple symbolizes, I will never ask to come here again. I’ve been wrong all of my life, Thorolf, so determined to live here and serve Odin. I will fulfill my duty by giving you sons who will take up the sword in Allfather’s name.”

  Thorolf leaned close to his wife. “Are you prepared to do so tonight? I wish to put a babe inside your belly now.”

  She shivered, gooseflesh appearing on her slender arms. “Whatever you wish, my lord.”

  He growled, pleased by her response. “I will free the woman and her lover.”

  “Thank you.” She covered his hand with hers.

  “Now, we will excuse ourselves from the hall.” He stood and scooped her into his arms.

  The remaining guests hooted and clapped their hands, raising their cups in salute.