Page 48 of Heart of Fire
Rurik soared backto earth behind Freyja’s barn, his form shrinking and power rushing through his veins as he made the change. Adreki’sbugle to the south had sent him hunting, circling Krafla and looking for the challenger, only to findnothing.
Or maybe that was an excuse. He was still haunted by that moment during their picnic, when something monumental seemed to shift insidehim.
Freyja.
Sighing, he found his clothes where he’d left them, and was about to pull on his trousers when Loki’s terrified barking caught his ears. Rurik froze. It seemed to be coming from within thebarn.
“Little brother?”he asked, his thought-thread tangling with thefox’s.
—angry, snapping at air, took the mistress, hurt her, hurt her, let meout—
Rurik tried to sort his way through the terror and fury.“Freyja? Someone took Freyja?Who?”
Images assaulted him: the bearded giant who rode at Haakon’s side, and a stranger he didn’trecognize.
But it was the image of the third man that made him suck in a sharp breath. A man with sharp, predatory features, amber eyes, and raven-dark hair. A man who held a knife to the little fox’s throat and used the threat to force Freyja tosubmit.
“Magnus,” he whispered, turning his face toward thevillage.
His cousin hadFreyja.
Twelve
THEY TIEDHER to the village green, both of her hands bound and tethered by pegs they drove into the hard earth. A rough strip of black linen covered her eyes, leaving her blind to the nightmare about to befallher.
“Please,” Freyja begged, but without her sight there was nothing for her to work with. She was blind to the world around her, and the ropes they used to tether her had been drenched in blessed water. It itched against her skin, resisting all her attempts to freeherself.
The truth of it stung. They had planned this—no, Benedikt had planned it. He alone knew of the strength of her unnaturalness, and had worked to counterher.
Her heart thundered raggedly in her ears as the crowd fell silent. She could hear the harsh rasp of Benedikt’s breath behind her. Excited. Enjoying her discomposure.Be careful of a man’s pride, my love,her mother had whispered when they’d both noticed the way Benedikt began to watch her.It is a dangerous thing, and unpredictable ifrebuffed.
“Blow the horn,” heinstructed.
The enormous bellow of the troll horn cut through the silence, rumbling across her skin and vibrating in her ears. Freyja flinched. She had never felt so helpless in her life. This was what her mother had warned her of.Choose your battles wisely, Freyja… for you are not invulnerable. Every creature of power had a weakness, even the mightydrekithey were summoning to claimher.
Where was Rurik? She didn’t believe he’d left her. Shecouldn’tbelieve. But if he hadn’t gone, then he would have heard the villagers take her. He wouldn’t just let them do this to her. Wouldhe?
The thought made her breathcatch.
Unless he truly had gone. She shivered as her memory of their words that morning washed over her. “We’re done here,” he had said, a death knell of finality underscoring the statement. Stepping back, bowing his head politely toher.
Rurik!She threw the thought out into the world on an ache of despair.I’msorry!
There was no answer but the wind swirling through her skirts. Then the thundering bellow of the troll horn again. The last time a man had blown that horn had been thirty years ago, when her father and the other villagers called thedrekiforthto forge thetreaty.
“Here he comes,” Benedikt murmured with satisfaction. His voice dropped even lower as he stepped closer. “I’ll see you when you return, mysweet.”
No mistaking the dark intent behind those words. If he couldn’t have her now, then he would take the scraps that were left once thedrekihad finished withher.
Freyja strained at the ropes to no avail. Her shoulders sagged as she heard the villagers moving back, scurrying for the safety of their homes towatch.
She couldn’t see. Yet she felt, more than anything, the mighty thrust of wings through an icy sky; the sudden ache of the pressure his immense presencewrought.
Wind beat down upon her as thedrekiwheeled overhead. Freyja went to her knees, but there was no escape. She was almost flattened by the wind his mighty wings stirred, as the tether binding her left arm was tugged, then fellaway.
The right snatched loose, the rope nearly jerking her arm from its socket. Free? She froze for one tremulous second, gathering her feet beneathher.
“Not free,”thedrekiwhispered in her mind.“Mine.”
