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Authors: Doris O'Connor

Claimed by Her Viking Wolf

BOOK: Claimed by Her Viking Wolf
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Evernight Publishing ®

 

www.evernightpublishing.com

 

 

 

Copyright©
2015 Doris O’Connor

 

 

 
ISBN: 978-1-77233-602-3

 

Cover Artist: Jay
Aheer

 

Editor:
Karyn
White

 

 

 

ALL RIGHTS
RESERVED

 

 

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or
distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.
 
No part of this book may be used or
reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the
case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

 

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters,
and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales,
organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

 

 

DEDICATION

 

To Kimberly,

 

This is for you with thanks for the inspiration and
all the yummy pictures you always post in the chicks. Hope you like 'your'
story.

 

CLAIMED BY HER VIKING WOLF

 

Vikings
Through
Time, 1

 

Doris O’Connor

 

Copyright ©
2015

 

 

 

Chapter On
e

 


Did
you hear that?” Lisa’s shrill voice broke the stillness of the early morning
mist. Kimberly groaned into her coffee, and upended the dregs of it into the
campfire. They sizzled, and her sister wrinkled her nose, whilst inching closer
to her new boyfriend.


The
only thing I can hear is you bitching in my ears,” Kim said. For the umpteenth
time she wished herself far away.

She’d known taking Lisa along on this camping trip
had been a mistake. Her younger, far too flighty, sister didn’t do the great
outdoors. No one had been more surprised than Kim when she’d shown up at her
cottage, with this Sam in tow. He was cute, if you liked the clean-shaven boy
band look, which Kim so didn’t. Apparently Sam fancied himself somewhat of an
explorer. In an effort to impress him, Lisa had arranged for this trip with Kim
as their guide.

After all no one knew the Northumberland National
Park as well as Kim. It was her escape, somewhere where she could immerse
herself in nature, and pretend she lived in simpler times. Annoying tourists
notwithstanding, the tours nicely supplemented the income she made from writing
her historical novels. Right now, Kim sure wished she was back in the past, and
not here, witnessing her sister making a fool of herself over this
boy.

 

No, I heard something growl over
there, I’m sure.” Lisa made an exaggerated arm movement. She glared into the
shrubbery, whilst inching sideways toward Sam, who got to his feet, and
brandishing his
survival
knife swung it through the air as though he was
slaying
imaginary
demons.


I’ll
go see,” he said.

Kim, too, rose, and with a twist of her hand on his
wrist, disarmed the damn fool. The shiny, never used knife embedded itself into
the grass by their feet, and she gave it a kick for good measure.


Don’t
be an idiot. You’ll hurt yourself brandishing that about. I’ll go see, but I’m
sure there’s nothing there.”


You
can’t talk to Sam like that.” Lisa’s affronted tone grated on her last nerves.
Kim spun round to give her a piece of her mind, when she heard it. The low,
pained growl of an animal in pain. It made the hair on her neck stand up to
attention, while both Sam and Lisa took several steps back in horror.


See,
I told you there was something there. You never should have taken us here. God,
we’re about to be attacked by some wild beast—”


Don’t
be ridiculous.” Kim interrupted her. “There are no wild beasts in
Northumberland. Even if there were, they’d have more sense than to come close
to an open fire and especially humans. Or what classes for humans these days.”
She glanced at the lily faced Sam and smirked. Kim laughed inwardly at the way
he puffed out his chest. If that sorry excuse of a male ever came face to face
with any wild animal he would no doubt pee himself.

Her amusement fled when another, much more
menacing, growl came from the undergrowth. Whatever that animal was, it was
hurt, which made it dangerous.


Well,
in any case I think we should leave.” Sam took another step back.


Oh.
Excellent idea. This was fun, but I’m ready to go home now.” Lisa smiled up at
him. When she pulled his head down for a kiss, Kim turned her back on them.
Shame she couldn’t turn her hearing off, too. It had been bad enough last night
listening to them in the tent next to her. She hadn’t needed the audible reminder
that, at least, boy or not, her sister had a sex life. Something that was sadly
lacking from Kim’s existence. With another glance into the shrubbery, she
agreed.


Fine,
I’ll pack up. You two head off.”


We
can’t just leave you here on your own.” Sam disentangled himself from her
sister’s clutches, and Kim had to laugh at Lisa’s pout.


It’s
fine, just go. Lisa is itching to get out of here, I know. Follow the trail
down to the car park. You can’t miss it. I’ll follow when I’m done here.”
Another low rumble made her add, “Or I might just stay a while. There’s
something I want to explore.” Digging into her jeans she pulled out the keys to
her cottage and threw them at Sam.


Let
yourself in. Treat the place as your own.”

When Sam still hesitated, Lisa grabbed his arm to
pull him away.


You
heard her. Kim spends half her life out here. She always has done. You know
with her gone, we can have so much
fun.
” The last bit of that sentence
was added in a dramatic whisper that made Kim roll her eyes. Turning her back
on them, she set to dismantling their tent.


Well,
if you’re sure.”

Kim waved her hand in a dismissive fashion, and
breathed a sigh of relief, when she heard the two of them get ready to leave.


Erm
, the trail is where?”

Giving up all pretense of dismantling the tent, Kim
wordlessly rose to guide them back to the main path. It took much longer than
it should have done, thanks to her companions’ slow progress. She breathed a
sigh of relief when they trundled down it with enough noise for a herd of freaking
elephants.

Finally, peace. Of course, knowing them they might
well get lost on the way down, but there would be enough folks milling about to
turn them in the right direction if they did. Kim could only hope they hadn’t
scared that wounded animal completely. Not that she was exactly sure what she
would do with it when she found it, but that deep growl haunted her.

Something wasn’t right, and she had to find out
what was going on. What she didn’t expect when she made it back to the clearing
was to see a half-naked man sitting by her fire. His long brown hair was tied
back with a strip of leather, and the fire drew patterns over the huge sword by
his leather-clad thighs. Muscles rippled in his bare back, as he stoked the
embers of the fire to renewed life with one arm. The action revealed the swirls
of a tattoo down one side of his torso, some ancient design that made her
throat go dry with an impending sense of doom. She’d seen those before in her
research into old Viking customs. The clothing he wore certainly matched that
era, but that was impossible. There were no Viking re-enactments planned that
she knew of. Plus they sure as heck wouldn’t be taking place here, so far off
the beaten track. So who was this, and why was he here?

The stranger swung his head round when she stepped
on a twig in her approach. The animalistic rumble that rose from his chest, as
he swung his sword in a defensive move, made her heart stop. It was the angry,
weeping gash in his side, however, that made her forget all her misgivings.
Especially, when he staggered under the weight of his sword, and almost took a
step back into the fire.


Jesus, be careful.”

Not caring about her own safety, she grabbed him
‘round the waist to yank him back from the fire. He stumbled again with a muttered
Norse curse, which she recognized all too well, before he slumped to his knees.
The action buried his head in her breasts, and she swayed under his weight.
Somehow she managed to hold onto him, as he lost consciousness. Kim lowered him
down as gently as she could. The man had to be over six foot three of bulky
muscle, and she whistled through her teeth when she took in the myriad of scars
that marred his torso. Not that she could admire those muscles in any detail.
He was losing too much blood from the angry gash in his side that looked as
though he’d been in a sword fight. Judging by the heat emanating from him, he
was running a fever. Sure enough when she brought her hand to his forehead, he
was burning up. Hallucinating, too, if the muttered Norse words she caught were
to be believed.

If he was an actor, then he sure believed in
immersing himself in the part, not that she had time to ponder this at this
moment.
 
A quick check of her mobile
confirmed what she already knew. No reception whatsoever out here. Besides, he
needed tending now.

Ignoring the flutters in her stomach and the
growing sense of unease crawling up her spine, Kim riffled through her back
pack for her first aid kit, giving mental thanks for her foresight in bringing
the more substantial one along. She’d expected to have to use it for Lisa or
Sam, not some Norse god who seemed to have landed, quite literally, in her
bosom.

Using a whole unopened bottle of water to clean the
blood away, she was relieved to see that the cut, while bleeding heavily,
seemed to be superficial only. Having smoothed on antiseptic, she applied a
pressure bandage to stop it bleeding. It would do, until she could get him back
to civilization, but he would need to wake up for that. There was no way she
could even drag this mountain of a man anywhere, so instead she proceeded to
wash the rest of him as best she could,
 
before she put some more
 
coffee
on to brew.

Nothing for it but to wait for him to come ‘round,
and to try not to ogle the unconscious man too much. An action which proved
nigh on impossible.
 
A thick tawny beard
covered the lower half of what seemed to be a proud face. Strong eyebrows,
impossibly long lashes that feathered across his cheeks in his slumber, a thick
neck, huge shoulders, and a torso sprinkled with just the right amount of hair.
Thick leather bands graced his wrists, and the silver ring he wore on one index
finger held some form of crest. His family or village crest no doubt. Kim’s
head came up at the thought.

He isn’t really Norse, you fool.

He couldn’t be, even if all indications led to that
conclusion. Even in his unconscious state there was something far too earthy
and primal about this man, not related to the twenty-first century. His
calloused hands and well defined muscles, not to mention the scars, spoke of a
man used to manual labor, while the coarse stitching on his leggings spoke of
earlier times. No zippers, or other shortcuts she was used to seeing on the
folks who took part in re-enactments. The incredibly heavy and bloody sword
that lay abandoned next to the fire spoke its own tale.

Had it not been for the occasional airplane going
overhead, which seemed to disturb him even in his slumber if his mutterings
about witchcraft were anything to go by, she’d have thought she’d somehow
traveled back in time.

But that was impossible.

So, if she was still here in her time, did that
mean he was displaced?

****

Asger
drifted in out of
consciousness, all too aware of the soft, feminine hands tending to his
injuries. It was her scent that had first alerted his inner beast to her
whereabouts. Through the haze of pain and confusion he’d woken up in, unable to
shift in these strange, cursed lands, it had drawn him like a beacon of hope.
His wolf hadn’t liked that man with her one little bit. The animal’s incessant
growling had eventually drawn their attention to him, come morning.

Had he not been so worried about whatever
witchcraft had dragged him here, he’d have taken the competition out in a
heartbeat, and dragged his
kona
back to his
place—if only he knew where his place was.

So, instead, he’d lain in wait and not emerged
until her companions had left. The fire had drawn him, weakened as he was, with
the promise of food and shelter, not to mention her alluring scent, which
overlaid all else, now that the others had left.

Damn his cursed injury that had made him stumble
and fall into her
brjóst
like a
helpless
barn.
He watched her now from under hooded lids, as she pulled
closer together the flaps of the covering she seemed to have erected over them
against the fine rain that fell and threatened to douse the fire. She inched
closer to him, muttering to herself in that strange language she used. Holding
up the little black box he’d seen her stare at countless times high up into the
air, she cursed and threw it into the back of the shelter. An eerie glow
emanated from it, as though it was some form of firefly, before it went dark.
Definite witchcraft afoot, which would explain why he still couldn’t shift. He
swallowed his animal’s growl, but she must have heard it anyway, because her
head spun around. Green eyes connected with his. A frown marred her pixie-like
features. Despite the pain in his side, his loins stirred, when she flung her
mass of strawberry blonde curls over one shoulder, while she leaned in closer
to inspect his side. The pressure she used hurt like a fucking bitch, and he
grunted.

She mumbled something that sounded like an apology,
then froze when she noticed he was watching her.


Hey,
awoken you’ve last at.”

His eyebrows rose at the jumble of dialects and
words she used, but at least she seemed to have some command of his language.

Asger
tried to answer
her, but nothing but a strangled groan left his lips. She quickly raised some
form of see-through container to his lips. He glared at the odd thing, but
dutifully drank what turned out to be water. This time he managed to form a
response.

BOOK: Claimed by Her Viking Wolf
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