Page 64 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

The berserker had tried to show him what was there the whole time. He’d even given him the power to achieve all he said he ever wanted. But Absolon’s taunt spoke more truth that he would have wished.

He was Ragnar the Heartless, and he had no one to blame but himself.

The realization cleaved him in two.

What had he achieved in chasing old vengeance? It had brought neither him nor Absolon peace. He had run away from the chance for a love that was truly and freely given, despite all the terrible things he’d done, despite the bad treatment and the cursing and the railing against his lot. How had Absolon put up with him? And what had he shown in return except contempt? The anger drained out of him and the need to feed faded.

“Ragnar? Are you all right?” Peder asked.

“I am.” Or at least he would be once he got back to Absolon. “I have to go.”

“But you just arrived.”

Kristina stepped forward. “Are you sure you won’t stay?” Her hand trembled.

Peder showed no encouragement for her words, only confusion at his change of heart. But Ragnar was done with them. They were no longer his family nor his concern. One day they would die, but not by his hand. And he was at peace with that.

“Quite sure. I can see there is nothing for me here. I won’t bother you again.”

No one stopped him leaving, and once outside, he retrieved his peasant clothes and set course for Absolon. He only hoped he could find his way back.

---