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

by Danielle L. Jensen

“Perhaps it is you who is doing it incorrectly, husband. That’s certainly how it feels.”

He’d refused further explanation of why Hlin’s blood made me uniquely coveted among the children of the gods, yet I’d taken him at his word with the blind faith of a child who trusted her father above all others. Yet, also like a child, I hadn’t fucking listened.

When I closed my eyes, the vision of him coming out of the water filled my mind’s eye, all tattooed skin and muscle, not a spare ounce of flesh on him. Every bit a warrior, and that face…Mortals shouldn’t be allowed such beauty for it made fools of everyone else, his silver tongue making it all the worse because even if he’d been ugly as a pig’s arse, Bjorn was bloody charming.

“We shall see who makes it to the end of the lesson without getting wet.” Then he winked. A fiery hot blush raced up my chest to my face. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not some simpering maid whose thighs turn slick just because an idiot man winks at her.” One of the servants walking by heard my words and gaped. Bjorn gave her an apologetic smile. “I was talking about the fjord, Freya.” Then he shook his head. “Such a filthy mind you have. I think I’ll be most corrupted by our time together.”

“I have a troubled life,” I finally answered. “Those troubles find their ways into my dreams.”

How can a man control your fate when he is not even the master of his own?”

“If you’ll excuse me,” Bodil said. “I must go speak with Ylva. She is much consumed by fear for her home and Snorri has a man’s ability to offer comfort, which is to say none at all.”

It wasn’t fair. Which was perhaps a childish thing to think, because nothing about life was fair, yet I was so sick of seeing those who were powerless harmed by the actions of those who were supposed to protect them.

“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.”

She is your wife. Don’t you care about the pain she’s enduring tonight?” Snorri sat unmoving in the darkness. “I think, my son, that you care enough for both of us.”

“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.”

It was easy to take risks when one faced death but far more difficult to take them when one faced life, and that was what he promised.

“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.

“They say being given the blood of a god is a gift,” I whispered. “But it’s a curse.”

“Apologize.” Bjorn’s voice was like ice. “You’re the one who should apologize.” My mother tried to pull free, but Bjorn’s grip only tightened. “You’re the one who made her like this. Freya used to be a good and loyal woman.” “She still is. You’re just no longer worthy of her loyalty.”

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

We can choose where we go and what we do, and no one, not even the gods, can stop us, because we are the unfated. We make our own destiny. Together.”

“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.”