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Chapter no 34

A Fate Inked in Blood

I ‌woke to dawn light peeking in through the branches Bjorn had used to cover the entrance to the cave, my ears filled with the sounds of trickling water, birdsong, and Bjorn breathing in my ear, still asleep.

A giddy smile grew on my face, the purest form of happiness expanding my chest, and if not for the press of my bladder, I’d have allowed myself to drift back to sleep. Sighing, I gently lifted the heavy arm wrapped around my middle, the fact that he didn’t so much as twitch speaking to the depth of his sleep.

Outside, dawn had already come and gone, the sun well above the horizon and the summer air warm. Only a faint breeze stirred the trees, while the chatter of squirrels scolded me for disturbing the morning peace. Taking care of my needs, I slipped back into the cave to find Bjorn still sleeping, his eyelashes dark against his suntanned skin, his hair a tangled mess.

So was my own.

Frowning at the disarray of my braids, I stepped into the pool and found a rock to sit on while I carefully unraveled them, making sure to place the ribbons on the bank so they wouldn’t slip downstream and reveal that I hadn’t perished in the falls.

No one must know we are still alive.

A sharp pang hit me as I thought about the news of my fall reaching my brother and Ingrid. Despite their flaws, I knew they loved me, and learning of my supposed death would hurt them.

Though perhaps for the wrong reasons.

With me dead, Snorri’s bitterness might lead him to exclude my brother from his war band. But Geir and Ingrid would survive, able to forge their own path.

Still, I wondered if they would mourn my death or resent it.

My chest tightened, and I tried to push the thoughts away as I finished unraveling my braids, my hair floating long and loose in the water. But the weight of what Bjorn and I were leaving behind was hard to shake, and my mind turned to thoughts of my people. How had they fared after the battle? Did they still follow Snorri? Or had they scattered after my death?

It’s not your problem, I told myself firmly. They don’t need you.

Yet guilt gnawed at me, for I was abandoning them for selfish reasons. What if word spread that Harald hadn’t abandoned the battle with my death? What if Harald now ruled our people? Could I bear to learn that I had left them to such a fate, or would that knowledge fester and corrupt my happiness, growing into a consuming guilt?

“They don’t deserve you.”

I twitched at Bjorn’s voice, ripples brushing against my skin as he waded into the water and pulled me close. “What do you mean?”

“I know that look when you’re feeling guilty,” he said, kissing my throat. “And I also know that everyone you feel guilty about leaving behind used you like a thrall, caring nothing for your happiness. If your absence causes them hardship, it’s their own fault for not treating you as you deserved.”

“They’re your people too,” I said, even though I agreed with his sentiment, it was more complicated. “They relied on you to protect them, and now you’re gone. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“They lived happily without me for many years.” He kissed my lips. “They’ll manage again, for they will no longer be a threat to Nordeland.”

Not for the first time, I sensed that Bjorn didn’t truly consider himself Skalander anymore, as the time he spent in Nordeland seemed to have left a mark on him. But his newfound sense of relief that Skaland was no longer a threat troubled me.

I pulled away from his embrace. “We should go soon.”

I felt his frown as I stepped out of the pool, but neither of us spoke as I dressed in clothes that smelled strongly of smoke from drying near the fire. I was acutely aware of Bjorn’s gaze on me with every movement I made.

Did he care? Did it matter to him what happened to those we left behind? I knew his relationship with Snorri was strained, worsened by Ylva, but what about his brother? His friends?

What friends?

I bit my lip, recalling his interactions with other warriors and people in Halsar. They had been minimal, as if either he or they kept a distance.

Liv—he was friends with Liv. There had been genuine grief on his face when the healer died, far beyond what would be expected for a stranger. The reminder eased some tension in my chest, though I couldn’t fully understand why these thoughts troubled me so much. “Will you miss your brother?”

Bjorn paused, then finished pulling on his trousers. “Of course I will. But with me gone, Leif will become Snorri’s heir. He’ll be jarl one day, and honestly, the people will be better for it.”

“Why do you think that?”

Bjorn’s eyes narrowed, and he was silent for a long moment before saying, “Because he’s one of them in a way I never will be.”

Unease churned in my stomach, but I kept silent.

Exhaling deeply, Bjorn sat on the floor. “I spent too many years in Nordeland, and it left its mark. In the way I do things. In the way I speak. In the way I think. Whereas Leif is Skalander through and through, and that makes the people like him better. Ylva was right to want him to lead the clan.”

I needed to know. “Are you a Skalander?”

He tensed slightly, then shook his head. “Soon neither of us will be, Freya, so I don’t see why this matters.”

“Because you don’t seem to care, and I want to understand why.” Accusations were bubbling up inside me, my temper flaring, though it shouldn’t be.

Why was I so agitated? So angry?

“It’s complicated!” Bjorn stood abruptly. “My past is complicated, Freya. Nothing is simple, but what I don’t understand is why you feel you must dig into it now.”

“Because I want to know the truth about the man I’m abandoning everything for,” I erupted. “Especially since you’ve practically admitted there are important things you haven’t told me about yourself.”

“Freya.” He reached for me, but I stepped back. “I love you. All I want is to be with you somewhere safe. To build a life together away from my past.”

Dread pooled in my chest. If it were nothing, he wouldn’t be so evasive. He’d tell me to calm me down. “I want those things too.” My voice was strained and strange, my head throbbing with tension. “But…but I can’t go until I know everything. If you won’t tell me the truth, then I’m going back.”

All color drained from his face. “You can’t go back.”

“Yes, I can.” I felt as though I couldn’t breathe. How had everything unraveled so quickly? How had I gone from absolute certainty in him to…this? “I can tell them I escaped the falls. No one ever has to know.”

“You don’t understand. If you go, he’ll—” He reached for my arm, but I leapt backward, almost falling as my feet snagged on a rock.

“He’ll what?” I demanded. “What will Snorri do?”

“It’s complicated.” Sweat beaded on his brow. “Freya, I’ll explain everything, I swear. But we need to leave. We need to run.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” I spun on my heel, storming out of the cave, my eyes burning. But I only made it a few steps before stopping abruptly, terror gripping my chest as I came face-to-face with King Harald of Nordeland.

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