A Fate Inked in Blood (Saga of the Unfated, #1)

by Danielle L. Jensen

“Nearly two decades ago, a seer spoke a prophecy to me of a shield maiden who’d been birthed the night of a red moon. She told me that this woman’s name would be born in the fire of the gods, and she would unite the people of Skaland beneath the rule of the one who controlled her fate.” “Fate is woven by the Norns.” My tongue felt thick and I swallowed hard. “They control it.” “All is fated except the lives of the children of the gods,” Snorri corrected. “Your path is unknown and as you walk it, you rearrange the threads of all those around you.”

“Nothing about you is ugly, Freya, least of all the scars you earned defending your honor and family,” he said. “And those tattoos are a sign you have the blood of a goddess in your veins. You should wear them with pride, not hide them as though they were a brand of shame.”

“Not all scars we earn are skin-deep, Freya Born-in-Fire.” He loosened his grip, my hand sliding through his. Though my scarred palm was numb, I swore I felt his fingers trail across it, and the sensation caused me to shiver. “There is no less honor in them.”

“I vow to serve no man not of this blood.” “I vow allegiance to him who is of this blood. I vow to protect, at all cost, him who is of this blood. I vow to speak no word of this bargain except to him who is of this blood.”

“She, the unfated, she the child of Hlin, she who was born in fire must give sacrifice to the gods on the mount at the first night of the full moon else her thread will be cut short, the future that was foreseen unwoven.”

“It is hard to keep one’s wits when faced with a woman as beautiful as the sight of shore to a man who has been lost at sea.”

“Freya Born-in-Fire, child of two bloods, we see you.”

“I wanted you the moment I first set eyes on you. I wanted you in Fjalltindr. I want you now, and tomorrow, and all the tomorrows, Freya.”

“You’ve never been alone,” Bjorn said, his voice so soft that no one but me would hear over the wind and my weeping. “I will be at your back until I cross the threshold to Valhalla, Born-in-Fire, whether you want me there or not.”

“You will not die today, Born-in-Fire, because I will slaughter anyone who comes near you. That is a promise.”

“You are mine, Born-in-Fire. Even if only the two of us know it.” I was. Gods help me, but I was. And for the first time in my life, it felt like I wanted for nothing.

“How is it that the part of you that I hate the most is also the reason I love you?”

“You’re mine, Born-in-Fire,” he answered, reaching out to take my hand. “And I’m yours, even if only the two of us know it.”

“You should go while you can.” Bjorn lifted a hand, his fingers curving around my face as he bent down and kissed me. “Never. I will stay at your side, whether in life or as we walk through the gates of Valhalla. I swear it.”

“Where you go, I go,” he said, hauling me back upstream. “And I’m not letting you go to Valhalla without me at your side.”

“No oath is worth your life. No amount of vengeance is worth your happiness. I’ll let the past burn to ash, Freya, because you are my present. My future. My destiny.” He lifted his other hand to cup my face. “I love you.”

“I used to dream only of fire and ash,” he whispered, running a thumb over my cheek as I lifted my face to meet his gaze. “Now when I close my eyes, all I see is your face.”

“I love you, Bjorn,” I whispered. “And the only future I wish for is the one with you by my side.”

Hel’s curse wouldn’t work on those with magic. The roots had attacked Tora, Skade, and Bjorn, but they’d been able to repel them with magic. But why was Harald alive? Digging deep into my memory, I replayed the moment, feeling the thrum of power in me again as I watched the roots explode from the ground. Yet none had gone near the king of Nordeland. Why that was, I couldn’t begin to explain.