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

by Danielle L. Jensen

And then I threw the weapon. It flipped end-over-end as it arced through the air, sparks trailing in its wake. Embedding with a meaty thunk in the back of Vragi’s skull.

“I’m not sure,” I breathed, feeling an inexplicable desire to touch him to see if he was real or if I was imagining him. “When I saw you coming out of the water, I thought for a moment that Baldur had escaped Helheim, for you couldn’t possibly be human.” “I think your bit of smoke has done its duty, Liv,” Bjorn said. “Best get on with things, right?” “Are you blushing, Bjorn?” The healer gave a sly smile. “I hadn’t thought it possible…” “It’s hot in here.”

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 hurts my feelings when you call me names, Freya.

Bjorn let out a laugh that sounded oddly strangled. “If we are having a moment of honesty, in those last few seconds before you killed the jarl, I had some concerns I might shit myself out of pure terror.” I snorted out a laugh, knowing full well that he was trying to make me feel better. “Bjorn, the only thing you shit is bluster and foolery.”

I’d forever be known to mortals as Bjorn Shitshimself.” My shoulders shook, I was laughing so hard. “I would never tell.”

“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.”

I knew I wasn’t imagining it. Knew that there was an attraction between us that wasn’t one-sided. What I didn’t know was what I should do about it. Satisfying the lust was a stupid risk.

Freyja, please grant Geir and Ingrid love and happiness. And many babies, I added, knowing that this was Ingrid’s wish.

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.

Never in my life had anyone said such a thing to me, and I indulged myself by allowing the words to repeat again and again even as I remembered his touch on my hands. The intensity in his gaze as we’d stared into each other’s eyes. The heat and strength of him as he’d held me against the cold.

I wanted to feel all those things again. It’s just lust, I snarled at myself. Deal wit...

Bjorn’s surprise vanished in an instant, his hands catching me by the hips and lifting me, my legs wrapping around his waist and my shoulders pressing against the tree behind me. His lips found mine again, his breath hot, and his stubbled chin rough against my skin as he consumed me.

“This isn’t enough to dissuade interruption, Bjorn,” I said under my breath. “Make it convincing.” “Gods, woman,” he growled, then his mouth was on mine again, his tongue teasing my lips open as he let go of my arse with one hand. Reaching up, he caught hold of the laces of my dress, pulling them loose with a sharp jerk.

“You gave a very convincing performance.”

WHAT A PRICK

You’re an idiot, Freya.

Sucking in a deep breath, I said, “Why did that work, Bjorn? Why didn’t they demand to see my face?” His grip on my hips tightened, then he dropped his hands. “Because they know I’m not fool enough to cuckold my own father.”

Twisting out of Bjorn’s grip, I took two steps, then froze as he said in a low voice, “It isn’t you who has cause to be jealous, Freya.”

“It’s fine,” I said to him, “I will make no mention of Bjorn Shitshimself.”

“I,” he whispered, biting at my jaw, then my throat. “I, I, I, Freya. You love that word because you relish taking the blame for everything, whether it is your fault or not.”

“I came up with the plan. I kissed you first.” His mouth claimed mine, sucking and stroking and biting. “I touched your perfect breasts.” He pressed my left wrist against my right, gripping them both easily with one hand so that he could run the other up my side, his thumb rubbing over my peaked nipple.

“And don’t you dare tell me that it was respect for my father that you felt pressed between your thighs that night.”

“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.”

Then Bjorn’s hand moved from mine to press between my breasts, over my heart, which skipped at the contact, then sped. “You will not die today, Born-in-Fire, because I will slaughter anyone who comes near you. That is a promise.”

I wanted. But above all else, I wanted him.

“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.

Bjorn snorted, then sat up, using the motion to pull my trousers up over my naked arse.

“You said I wouldn’t die today,” I reminded him. “Besides, once the battle starts, I won’t feel the pain.” “The former was said while very little of the blood in my body was servicing the part that does the thinking,” he hissed. “As for the latter, who the fuck told you that bullshit?” “Probably you.”

“I don’t want to rule,” he answered. “I want you.”

“Prove that I’m what you want.” I ran my hand down his chest, down the hard muscles of his stomach, and cupped his cock. He groaned and I stroked the thick length, liquid heat rushing to my core. “Claim me.”

“If you want me free of your father’s shadow, perhaps you should find your balls and get rid of him yourself.” Bjorn recoiled.

He was silent for a long moment, then said, “Your eyes are red, Freya. Same as they were when you attacked Grindill.” Burning with crimson fire.

“I love my husband,” Ylva said. “But he sees only the glory, not the backs of those he must step upon to achieve it. I see the faces belonging to those backs, and I do not like the expressions I saw on them tonight.”

I held my breath, waiting for a solution from a woman who, I realized now, was more ally than enemy, for many of our desires were the same. “Ride in secret to Selvegr tonight,” Ylva finally said. “Learn what you can from your mother of the goddess whose magic our fates rest upon, then return with haste. I will tell all that you are seeking guidance from the gods and must not be disturbed, as well as delay Steinunn’s departure until you tell her what answers the gods have given you.” She hesitated, then added, “Enlist Bjorn to help you. He’ll know how to get you in and out of Grindill unseen. Will keep you safe on the journey and ensure you return to us.”

“If you are so content with your husband and your future, why do you risk it all by climbing into bed with his son?”

“Don’t lie to me, love. I know the look of a man possessive of that which he believes is his, and the Firehand looks at you that way. As you look at him.”

“It’s that I don’t believe you control Freya’s fate!”

“You think I’m blind? You think that I don’t know lust when I see it? I tolerated you coveting my wife because I believed you loyal. But now I see that you care more about ensuring my wife remains available for satisfying your lusts than you do about her achieving her destiny.”

“Everyone believes we’re dead, Freya, and no one fights to possess the dead. We can leave Skaland without consequence, because Snorri won’t punish Geir or Ingrid for you falling in battle. No one will come hunting for us. 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.”

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.” And I loved him. Loved him in a way that defied reason, words not enough to convey the emotion that burned in my heart. A sob tore from my lips and I buried my face in his neck, inhaling him. Drinking him in because he was mine. And we’d never be parted.

“There is no future where I would regret choosing you.”

“For nearly all my life, revenge for what was done to my mother was all that mattered to me. It consumed my every waking breath and I refused to allow anything else to matter. Then the most fierce and beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on hit me in the face with a fish and proceeded to wind her way into my heart. To make me want a life ruled by something deeper than hate.”

“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.”

“Why wouldn’t you ever let me touch you?” I murmured, leaning back to trace my glowing fingertip over the intricate tattoo of runes on his chest. “Didn’t you want me to?” He made a strangled noise. “Gods, woman. It was for the exact opposite reason to that.” His fingers tightened, digging into the curve of my arse. “Touching you had me on the verge of breaking. Having your hands on me would have snapped my control entirely. And…” He drew in a breath. “I didn’t want to take from you, not knowing if I could return it in equal measure.”

“And now?” “All of me is yours, Freya.” His head was tilted back, eyes closed, the light from my magic casting shadows over the chiseled lines of his face. His beauty was as otherworldly as I’d ever seen it, as though it had been Baldur, the loveliest of all gods, who’d gifted him blood rather than the god of war. “It may not be equal measure to your value, but it’s all I have.” “It’s all I want.” All I could ever dream of.

love you,” I breathed, allowing my magic to dissipate, leaving us wrapped in darkness. “You are all I want.” Bjorn shuddered, fingers tightening around me. “I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you from me.”

see you asleep in my arms in the home I’ve built for you,” he said, breath tickling my ear. “I see you full on game that I’ve hunted for you, baking bread from grain that I’ve grown in our fields after you teach me how, because I don’t know the first fucking thing about growing plants.” I laughed, but he wasn’t finished. “I see you fat with our child in your belly.” He kissed my neck. “See you laughing as you run with her in the snow.” His hand curved over my thigh, slipping between my legs. “I see you growing older, silver hair, face marked from smiles rather than worry, more beautiful with every passing day.” I closed my eyes, drunk on his words, on his touch. “What of Valhalla?” “I shall earn my place killing the little fucks who come chasing after my daughters, who will certainly inherit their mother’s beauty.” He kissed me. “Though if they inherit her sharp tongue, I won’t have to.”