He turned his back to me and lowered his head to expose his neck. His height kept me from getting a good look, so I rose back onto my knees, holding his hair to one side and leaning close. “More light.”
“Demanding,” he murmured, but picked up his axe, holding it high to illuminate his skin.
Not unexpectedly, the tattoo was shaped like an axe, the blade etched in incredible detail, though the rune representing Tyr was what drew my eye. Like my own tattoo, the crimson inkwork pulsed with the beat of his heart, and, beneath my scrutiny, it seemed to throb faster. “Nervous?”
“My neck is exposed to you, Born-in-Fire,” he answered. “I’m fucking terrified.”
Smiling, I traced my left index finger over the thin red lines. He shivered beneath my touch, and his reaction stoked the embers of desire in me that felt impossible to extinguish. Swallowing the dryness in my throat, I said, “You’re the one holding the weapon.”
“And yet I feel entirely at your mercy,” he said under his breath, lowering his axe back to the ground. Bjorn turned to face me, and on my knees as I was, we were at eye level. Breathing the same air, though the tension between us was so thick I felt light-headed.
“Satisfied?” he asked, green eyes rendered black by the shadows.
I wasn’t. Not even a little bit, but the things it would take to sate me were so very forbidden. “It’s good work.”
Bjorn inclined his head without breaking our gaze, and I suddenly found I couldn’t breathe at all. We were alone in these tunnels, which meant there was nothing to stop us but ourselves, and I felt my will to do so waning.
I wanted him.
Wanted his lips on mine. Wanted to feel his hands on my body. Wanted to touch the hard muscles and taut skin beneath his clothing and mail until I knew every inch of him.
He’s your husband’s son, a voice screamed in my head. Nothing good could come of this!
Husband in name only, I screamed back at the voice. A sham of a marriage!
That doesn’t mean you aren’t bound! That doesn’t mean you won’t pay if you get caught!
The thought rattled sense into me, and I looked away. Lowered myself down so that my back was pressed against the wall, my eyes again fixed on his axe. As my desire faded, so did the adrenaline that had come with it, and exhaustion pressed down. Cold leached into my legs, into my back, and I shivered.
“Come here.” Bjorn’s voice was low and rough, and I didn’t resist as he pulled me against him, the heat of his body driving away the chill. I rested my head against his chest, so painfully tired but unable to close my eyes. Unable to relax because the misery in my heart refused to let me.
“What’s it like in Nordeland?” Perhaps no better a topic than his murdered mother, but I needed to fill the silence with something heavy. With something that would pull me down and down until I finally fell asleep.
Bjorn cleared his throat. “Colder. Harder. It makes Skaland seem like soft living by comparison.”
That was hard to imagine, though I didn’t doubt that he was telling the truth. “What are the people like?”
“The same. Yet entirely different.” He hesitated, then added, “It’s hard to explain, but if you were to go there, I think you’d understand.”
Nordeland was Skaland’s greatest enemy, the most vicious of raiders, and I struggled to reconcile that truth with his words, for all I saw were monsters who slaughtered families and burned villages, stealing everything of value. “They treated you well?”
“Yes. Very well.”
His voice was tight, but I pressed anyway. “Snorri wishes to make war against them. Will that be difficult for you? To fight those who raised you?”
Bjorn didn’t answer, but I kept quiet, waiting, and eventually he said, “No matter how I feel about the people, vengeance must be had against the one who hurt my mother. I’ve sworn an oath to take everything from him, and anyone who stands in the way is nothing more than a casualty of war.”
A shiver ran over me, and I started to turn to look up at him, but his grip tightened. Holding me in place, he murmured, “Go to sleep, Born-in-Fire. In a few hours, we’ll finish the climb to the summit and see just what the gods have in store for you.”
“Freya, wake up.”
I groaned and pried my eyelids open, my body protesting movement as I straightened. “How long was I asleep?”
“Only a couple of hours,” Bjorn answered, climbing to his feet. “But we can’t stay any longer. It’s already midday and you need to be at the temple for the full moon.”