Oath Breaker (Sons of Odin Book 3) (11 page)

He thrust a final time, breath ragged, then stilled beneath her. Selia floated in the netherworld for several heartbeats before finally sinking into the solid warmth of his chest. She nestled against him, replete, stunned at the feeling of peace inside her.

Quenched, the hollow ache of her soul.
At last.

Chapter 18

Ulfrik sat with Selia in his lap, his arms wrapped around her slender form as their bodies chilled in the sharp evening air. He felt her soft breath on his skin and the beating of her heart against his chest, slowing to a quieter rhythm.

So tiny, so fragile; she triggered a protectiveness in him as no other woman ever had. He inhaled her scent, remembering it from the last time he’d held her in his arms, as verdant and lush as new grass. Selia smelled like springtime.

He would stay like this for the rest of his life if he could, entangled body and soul with the woman he loved. Even now he sensed the beginning of her and the ending of him had been blurred.

Had she experienced it too? The sensation of being torn asunder and reassembled? Of somehow joining more than their bodies? Ulfrik felt as though they’d wed tonight, in a way much deeper than marriage. After what he’d just endured, the fear of losing her again ripped through him, a shock like death itself, causing Ulfrik to break out in a cold sweat.

“Marry me, Selia,” he whispered, cupping her head close where she nestled against him. Her hair had grown in a bit, now curling over the dent in her skull. He pressed his lips against it, eliciting the memory of a small tousle-haired child collapsed on the floor of a smoke filled cottage. “Marry me, now. We’ll find Oengul and do it tonight.”

She looked up to meet his gaze. Her eyes were pools of quicksilver, her expression dazed, awestruck. She’d felt it too, then. This spell, whatever it was, had ensnared them both.

“Yes.” Her voice came forth softly. “I will marry you, Ulfrik.”

He released a profoundly relieved breath, then rose to his feet, loath to let her go, and helped Selia smooth her gown before he fastened his breeches. He pulled off his shirt to don the new one she’d made for him.

It fit nicely, warm against the chill that blew through the unfinished house. She gave him a shy smile, and his heart swelled in his chest.
I love you
.

He reached for her and she placed her dainty hand in his. A happiness such as he’d never felt before settled over him, like warm sunshine breaking through the clouds. Ulfrik would marry the woman he loved tonight. And spend the rest of his life in her arms.

The last faint rays of the sun glimmered against the sea below, as Ulfrik rapped his knuckles on the door of Oengul’s tower. Bahati opened it a moment later, her surprised eyes traveling down to their entwined hands then back up to Selia’s face. The woman broke into a grin, the expression lighting up her delicate features, and Ulfrik realized it was the first time he’d seen her smile.

Selia blushed as Bahati pulled her close and whispered something in her ear. Selia nodded and the woman beamed at her.

Bahati turned to Ulfrik now, her smile fading into her typical scowl. “If you hurt Selia I will kill you, Northman. I will slit your throat when you sleep. Do you understand?”

Ulfrik raised his eyebrows at the threat, but was nevertheless pleased she had called him
Northman
instead of
Norse Dog
. That was progress. “I understand, Bahati. Where is the priest?”

“I am here,” Oengul called from within. Bahati threw the door wide as the man descended the tower ladder.

“Selia and I wish to marry,” Ulfrik said. “Tonight. Can you come to the cave?”

The priest blinked as if momentarily confused. “Have you received word your brother is dead, then?”

Selia blanched beside him, and Ulfrik fought off his impatience. “No. But that marriage wasn’t legitimate—Alrik was never baptized.”

Oengul approached cautiously. Something about the look on his face made Ulfrik feel physically ill. “I thought you understood. When a Christian marries, it is for life. If Selia’s husband is still alive, she is not free to wed another.”

The words were like a blow to his gut. He heard Selia gasp, and her fingers dug into his hand. Desperation clawed at him. “My brother is not a Christian,” Ulfrik growled.

“No matter.” The priest nodded toward Selia. “She is.”

A stifled sob escaped Selia as she pulled her hand from his and turned as though to run away. Ulfrik stopped her, standing in front of the door as he glared furiously at Oengul. Never had he wanted to kill anyone so much as he did this man. What right did Oengul have to deny them their happiness?

“Her husband is a monster, priest,” Ulfrik spat, towering over the smaller man. “You would have her stay with the man who nearly killed her? Who nearly killed her child?”

Oengul raised his hand as if to respond to Ulfrik, when Bahati stepped between them. She barraged the priest with a furious outpouring of words. Ulfrik couldn’t understand most of what she said, but the condemnation in her tone and body language was clear. Oengul shook his head at her, and Bahati stomped her foot. She turned from him in disgust.

“Oengul does not understand love.” She gazed intently at Selia, whose expression reflected devastation. “What use do you have for his blessing? Be with your Northman, my friend. Forget this priest and his empty words.”

Selia’s lip quivered as she glanced at Oengul, then quickly away. Ulfrik saw the guilt on her face, the shame of committing what the priest would consider an unforgivable sin. “I . . . can’t.” Her voice broke.

He curved his arm around her, leaning over to catch her gaze, and spoke intently. “This changes nothing, Selia. No words said by a priest could make my love any stronger. I am bound to you, body and soul—not even death itself could quell what I feel.”

Selia’s eyes welled with tears as she pressed a shaking hand against her mouth. “Eithne,” she whispered through her fingers. “She will never accept it.”

Ulfrik frowned. The woman had been Selia’s childhood nursemaid, but he knew she loved her as a mother. The anxiety of bringing Eithne’s disapproval upon them was clearly written across Selia’s features.

“We don’t have to tell her just yet,” Ulfrik assured her.

“You don’t understand. She’ll never accept us being together.
Ever
. Unless Alrik is dead.”

Then I will kill him
, Ulfrik vowed to himself.

“It will be all right,” he said aloud. He turned to the priest, leveling a gaze upon him that made the man’s face drain of color. “No one will tell Eithne.”

The next fortnight was a miserable blur. The devastation of Father Oengul’s words had ripped a hole in Selia’s short-lived happiness. As much as Ulfrik tried to convince her that Eithne would come around to the idea eventually, Selia knew the truth. She could never marry another as long as Alrik was alive. And to live openly with Ulfrik as husband and wife was a mortal sin.

To continue to tryst with him in the forest was just as great a sin, of course, except Eithne didn’t know about it. Each time she succumbed to temptation, Selia vowed it would be the last time. She must tell Ulfrik they could no longer meet. How long could they keep this up? How long could they hide their love from a woman who missed very little?

But she couldn’t bring herself to end it. Since admitting her feelings to herself, Selia’s desire for Ulfrik allowed no reprieve. Her eyes longed to gaze upon him, her hands to touch his flesh. Her body ached for him. The craving to be near Ulfrik was maddening, and the knowledge that Eithne was always watching even more so.

Selia knew it pained Ulfrik just as much as it did her to hide their feelings for each other, sneaking away like the guilty adulterers they were. She had a strong suspicion Ulfrik planned to travel to Norway in the spring and try to kill Alrik, although he denied it when she questioned him.

It wasn’t fair to either of them to have to live like this. And she couldn’t allow Ulfrik to get himself killed by trying to eradicate her husband.

Lost in thought, Selia broke the thread as she hemmed Geirr’s new tunic. He was growing again, his wrists now peeking out from beneath the sleeves of his shirt. Selia had begun the construction of a new outfit for him as a way to keep her mind occupied, but still found her thoughts swirled around the hopelessness of the situation with Ulfrik.

She cursed under her breath, and Eithne’s head shot up from the other side of the cave. The woman had hearing like a dog.

“Selia,” she reprimanded. “Watch your tongue, child.”

“I am not a child,” Selia snapped. “I suppose I can curse just as well as anyone else.”

Eithne frowned, hands on her ample hips. “Little miss, I’ve a mind to cuff you. Carrying a babe is no excuse to be testy to everyone. And it’s no excuse to speak words not fit to cross a woman’s lips.”

Selia rose, folding the tunic haphazardly. She’d endured enough of Eithne’s scolding. “I’m going to take a walk, then. I can’t be in this cave with you for another minute.”

She felt the woman’s glare burning into her back as she tied her cloak, then rushed out into the frosty air.

Selia headed directly to the house. She would collect some firewood on the return trip to try to convince Eithne this had been her purpose all along, but that could wait. Right now, she could only focus on one thing. Ulfrik. She felt as though she would crawl out of her skin if she couldn’t see him.

As she rounded the path, Selia heard the sound of male voices. Ulfrik and Ainnileas. She bit her lip in indecision. Her brother didn’t know of her newfound relationship. As far as she knew, Ulfrik hadn’t told him either.

“Sister,” Ainnileas called out as he spotted her. They were nearly finished with the house, now working on the front door. The only thing the dwelling conspicuously lacked was a finished roof. The shingles they’d painstakingly split lay in a pile under a nearby tree. They’d laid thin, supple strips of bark as a watertight foundation for the wooden shingles, and all that remained was to affix the shingles themselves on top. The house would be complete very soon.

Selia gave her brother a weak smile, then, almost against her will, her gaze shifted to Ulfrik. He wore the gray tunic she’d made for him. Despite the chill in the air, his hair was damp and mussed from the work of lifting the heavy oak door into place while Ainnileas fastened the hinges.

His smile made her knees go weak. She had to look away.

Unfortunately, Selia’s gaze landed on Ainnileas. He stared at her closely, then turned to Ulfrik, and finally back to Selia. She felt a hot flush creep over her skin.

“Well, well,” Ainnileas chuckled. “I see you took my advice, Selia. It’s about time, I must say. When can we expect a wedding?”

Selia’s cheeks burned hotter and she couldn’t answer. Ulfrik spoke quietly. “Oengul says we can’t marry. Not until Alrik is dead.”

Ainnileas gaped at him. “That’s absurd. He’s a heathen. The marriage wasn’t lawful.”

“Not according to Oengul,” Ulfrik retorted. “And Selia can’t bear to disappoint Eithne. So there is nothing to be done for it.”

Ulfrik and her brother exchanged a long, calculating look. A look that spoke there
was
something to be done for it. Selia frowned at them. “Stop, both of you. I won’t see either of you hurt by trying to kill Alrik.”

Ulfrik kept his own counsel, but Ainnileas gave her a forced chuckle. “Don’t be silly. You’re imagining things, sister.”

She searched Ulfrik’s face but couldn’t read his expression. An ugly feeling of anxiety washed over her. The thought of losing him was overwhelming.

“Perhaps,” she said to her brother. “Perhaps not. I’m going to collect some firewood.”

Ainnileas turned his attention back to the door, and Selia met Ulfrik’s gaze again. He nodded at her, almost imperceptibly.

She heard Ulfrik speak to Ainnileas as she walked away.

“I think we’ve accomplished as much we can on the house today,” he said. “I’ll leave for Dubhlinn in the morning so we can finish.”

Just the thought of Ulfrik returning to Dubhlinn again made her queasy. Why couldn’t he go somewhere else? Surely he could find a merchant elsewhere who sold what he needed. Why Dubhlinn? It seemed like asking for trouble.

And why did it have to be Ulfrik who had to go, for that matter? Why not Ainnileas? Yet Selia frowned at the thought of her brother accosted by Gunnar’s men. She doubted he could win a fight against one of them, much less three.

Her thoughts churned as she waited for Ulfrik.

Chapter 19

Anxious and shivering with the cold, Selia sat in the trysting spot, a small clearing halfway between the cave and Oengul’s dwelling. Far enough from the path to afford some privacy, it was blocked on three sides by several large boulders and by thick brush on the other. They’d stashed a blanket in a dry spot under the largest boulder.

The sound of Ulfrik’s footsteps made her stomach tighten in anticipation. He strode into the clearing and Selia let out a shaky breath.

She went to him, pressing her face in his chest. “I thought you would never come.”

He held her close. “I’m sorry.”

Ulfrik offered no explanation as to why it had taken him so long. But Selia wasn’t a fool. Obviously he’d been hatching a plan with her brother to kill Alrik.

Selia squashed the fear and anger that threatened to rise to the surface. Their time together was too precious to wait arguing.

She took hold of the neckline of his shirt to pull his face down to her. Selia kissed him hard, taking her frustration out on his beautiful mouth, and curved her arms around his neck so he couldn’t stand without taking her with him. Ulfrik lifted her and placed her on one of the boulders.

The kiss deepened. Ulfrik was very skilled at the art of love, with an intuitive understanding of what Selia needed. So unlike his brother. Ulfrik could ravage her with intensity, or make love to her slowly and carefully, depending on her mood. The man had incredible self-control. But at the moment, Selia didn’t want self-control.

His mouth was hot, possessive, and she twined her fingers in his hair as his tongue sought hers. He lifted her skirts, sliding his hands over her flesh, parting her thighs without hesitation.

He seemed to know exactly what she wanted from him—complete obliteration of worry and fear. Unadulterated lust. She gripped his powerful body as he entered her, craving oblivion.

There were times when Selia recognized the beast behind Ulfrik’s eyes at intimate moments, just as she’d seen it in those of her husband for so many years. But Ulfrik never allowed the leash to snap. Although he walked the line carefully on occasion, he was the master of the beast, not its slave.

The realization had been a surprising one. She was living with yet another Viking berserker, albeit one who hid it very well. But strangely, knowing the beast paced inside Ulfrik gave her hope for Faolan’s future. If Ulfrik had tamed his volatile nature, who better than he to teach her son to do the same?

Ulfrik’s thrusting increased now, and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. He placed his hand over her mouth as if he knew she was at the end of her control, and she gratefully screamed into it. Her body shattered around him, and Ulfrik groaned, then stilled inside her.

He released her mouth but didn’t pull away. He folded her in his arms, cupping her head against his chest, his heart hammering against her ear. Such a comforting sound. She had never felt safer than she did in his arms.

“I love you, Selia,” he whispered.

She nestled closer, but didn’t respond immediately. She hadn’t returned his professions of love yet. It terrified her to say the words. Selia’s feelings were so new, so fragile, and to put them into words seemed much too ominous.

“Don’t make me say it, Ulfrik. You know it frightens me.”

He stiffened and tried to pull away. She held on so he couldn’t. “Is it a greater sin if you say the words?” his voice sounded tight.

Selia sighed and pressed her face into his chest. Why did he insist on making her say it? And why couldn’t she explain to him that what she felt for him was so powerful it stole her breath? That it was
because
she loved him so profoundly, she was unable to speak what was in her heart?

She met his gaze, swallowing hard. His blue eyes seemed to pierce her soul, drawing the truth from her lips. “I’m afraid if I say it, you will be taken from me,” she admitted.

Ulfrik stilled. “Taken from you?”

How to explain? How to describe the icy, irrational fear that gripped her whenever she thought about losing him?

He had converted to Christianity for her, an act most Finngalls would consider unforgivable. The Norse gods themselves were petty. Selia hadn’t forgotten about the raven in Norway, turning its beady black eyes her way when she’d refused to sacrifice the rabbit to Odin. The vengeful god had then tried to take her son for his own when Alrik marked the child with the shadow spell, binding him. But Odin had been thwarted by Ulfrik, who now worked with Faolan every day on how to keep the beast in check.

What better way for a jealous deity to seek his revenge than to steal Ulfrik from her? Selia couldn’t lose him. It was already torture enough to have to sneak around, hiding their relationship from Eithne and the children. How much more could she bear?

“Who do you think could ever take me from you?” Ulfrik prodded.

Selia looked away, shaking her head. Her eyes caught movement, a black fluttering of wings, and for a moment she feared a spell was about to come upon her. But Ulfrik turned too. She could tell by the way he looked at it that the raven was real, not a figment of her damaged mind.

The bird stared, its gnarled feet gripping the barren branch. It cawed once, but didn’t move. Another raven settled on the branch beside the first, flapping its wings.

Fear and rage flooded her body. She pushed Ulfrik aside to clamber down from the boulder. “Leave us alone!” she cried, picking up a handful of rocks. She threw one at the birds. It missed, bouncing off the tree branch. The ravens cawed again, and Selia threw the entire handful at them. The birds finally flew away.

She dissolved into tears, sinking to her knees. Ulfrik crouched beside her. “Selia. Please tell me what’s wrong.” He gripped her shoulders to force her to look at him.

The words spilled from her mouth of their own accord. “I promised Odin a sacrifice to bring Alrik home to me safely,” she sobbed. “But he set a storm upon them and killed Alrik’s men . . . killed Olaf. So I denied Odin the sacrifice.” Selia took a deep, shuddering breath. “And ever since he’s been stalking me. Trying to take what I love most. He tried to take Faolan. And I’m afraid he will take you.”

Ulfrik held her as she wept, held her until she was empty and still. He stroked her hair tenderly. “Look at me, Selia,” he urged.

Hitching back a sob, Selia raised her head.

“There is no power in this world or any other that could take me from you,” he vowed. “What I feel for you is stronger than fear. Stronger than death. I am yours, always. I will love you, always. This time with you has been the happiest of my life. If loving you brings some sort of misfortune upon me, so be it. I have no regrets.”

“Ulfrik! Don’t say that!”

“Why? It is the truth. I will go to Norway as soon as the seas allow, and I will finish this. Alrik must die for what he did to you.
That
will be Odin’s sacrifice. Then we can marry.”

“No! It’s too dangerous.”

Ulfrik shrugged. “I am not afraid of my brother. I know his weaknesses. It has to happen, Selia. You know this in your heart.”

“I won’t let you do it. I won’t let you go. I can’t lose you—”

“And are we to live like this forever, then—sneaking into the forest to be together for a few stolen moments? And all the while you fear Odin’s wrath? Fear you’re sinning against the Christian God? We both know what must be done. And I will do it.”

The sound of a child’s scream burst in the distance. Selia quieted, turning sharply.

Eydis?

They both stood at once. Selia dashed in the direction of the sound, gaining a head start from Ulfrik, who had to tie his breeches. Her fear was heavy, all encompassing; her heart beating so hard against her chest she thought it would explode.

Had Alrik found them? Or Gunnar?

Eydis was at the edge of the cliff, screaming for help. The child leaned over the side, her back to Selia, appearing to be pulling desperately at something. The thought of what she could be pulling at was so unimaginable, it took Selia a moment to comprehend what was happening.

She sprinted, leaping toward the cliff to grab Faolan’s ankle where it was hung up on the rocks. If not for his shoe getting caught, he would have gone over already.

“Faolan,” she panted. “I have you!”

“
Mamai
,” came Faolan’s small, terrified voice. “I can’t hold him—”

Selia realized with horror that Faolan gripped his brother’s hand. Geirr dangled in mid-air, the churning sea white and angry below him.

“Don’t let go!” Selia pulled with all her might. She managed to free Faolan’s ankle, but the two boys were too heavy for her to pull up. She screamed in panic as they all slipped a bit farther.

Suddenly Ulfrik was there, leaning far over the edge. He grabbed Faolan’s shoulder, pulling him up enough for Selia to get a better grasp on his leg, then he managed to reach Geirr. Ulfrik hauled him upon the rocks as Selia did the same with Faolan.

Time stood still as Selia gripped her children, sobbing, unable to think clearly enough to form words. She had nearly lost them. Both of them in one fell swoop.

Ulfrik put his arms around all of them. “Are you all right?” he asked hoarsely.

“Do you see now?” she finally gasped. “Odin will take them! He will take what I love most—”

Ulfrik grasped her firmly. “Odin did not do this.” He turned to Faolan and Geirr. “
Boys
. Look at your mother. Look at what you have done to her with your actions. You almost killed her—she would have gone over the edge before she let you go.”

“I got too close. I’m sorry—” Geirr began, but Ulfrik cut him off.

“
No
. An apology will not make this right. You are too old to behave so irresponsibly. Your mother gave up everything to keep you two safe, and this is how you thank her? Go back to the cave, both of you. And stay there.”

Sniffling, both boys slunk away in the direction of the cave. Selia rose to follow them, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath. Exhaustion swamped her. How could she go on, fearing that at any moment a vengeful Norse god might rip away what mattered most to her?

“Selia . . .” Ulfrik began, then trailed off, staring at the ground. “Whose blood is that?”

Selia saw a few drops of blood on the rocks. She stepped aside, revealing several more red drops directly below where she’d been standing.

“It’s mine,” she whispered.

Ulfrik swept Selia up and carried her back toward the cave, despite her protests. There was no pain, no cramping as there had been when she’d nearly bled Faolan out. Just a few drops of blood.

There had been blood after Einarr had attempted to force himself on her, too. But she hadn’t lost the babe. Indeed it seemed healthy and vigorous, kicking frequently.

But Ulfrik hurried, nearly running, with a sobbing Eydis following behind. They met Eithne at the cave entrance. The woman wiped her hands on a rag, her face pinched with worry.

“By all the saints, what’s happened now? The boys won’t tell me what’s going on. But they are both pale as death.”

Ulfrik swept past her with Selia in his arms. “They went over the edge of the cliff. And Selia nearly went over herself trying to pull them up.”

Eithne gasped as she crossed herself. She marched over to where the boys cowered near the cave wall, then cuffed their ears soundly. “What were you thinking?” she demanded. “Fools, the both of you!”

Geirr stepped in front of his brother. “Don’t punish Faolan. It was my fault.”

As Eithne continued to squabble at the boys, Ulfrik laid Selia on her pallet. She saw fear in his eyes. Was he so worried she would lose the babe—a babe that wasn’t even his own? A babe whose very existence was inconvenient for him, to say the least?

“Don’t worry,” she whispered to him.

Ainnileas knelt beside them. “What’s happened?”

Ulfrik stood, as though realizing the intimacy of him crouching next to Selia wouldn’t go unnoticed by Eithne. “She’s bleeding.”

“The babe, you mean?”

Ulfrik nodded. Ainnileas pursed his lips at Selia, then looked away with a guilty expression on his face. It was clear he thought it would be best for all involved if Selia did bleed the child out.

She glared at her brother. True, early on she had herself wondered if it would be best if she lost the child. But that was before they had settled on the island. Things were different now that she knew she had a safe place in which to birth a babe and raise it. Ainnileas had no right to hope for anything otherwise.

“A fine uncle you are,” Selia hissed, placing her hands over her belly protectively. Ainnileas’ flush deepened as he gained his feet to stand beside Ulfrik.

Eithne shooed both men out of the cave. The boys shuffled their feet awkwardly, looking back and forth between Eithne and the cave entrance. “Go on now.” Eithne was adamant. “I must examine your mother.”

“Ulfrik told us we couldn’t leave the cave,” Geirr mumbled. He’d yet to call Ulfrik “Father.” And Ulfrik hadn’t insisted.

“Well.” Eithne crossed her plump arms. “Be that as it may, it’s not seemly for you to be in here at the moment.”

“Come here, boys.” Selia held her hand out to them.

They obeyed, both sheepish, and knelt beside her. Despite Eithne’s fussing, she sat up to pull them close. Selia breathed in the scent of them: wood smoke, fresh air, and their familiar boyish sweat.

“I love you,” she vowed. “I love you both more than I love my own life. The thought of losing either one of you rips at my soul, and I nearly lost you both today. What exactly were you doing?”