Heart of the Bear

RIVER OF TIME : HEART OF THE BEAR

…“I didna pull ye from the water expecting anything in return,” he murmured, caressing her earlobe. “I know. I wasn’t expecting anything either.” She sighed, her hands balling into fists around his shirt as she drew herself nearer. “But ye want it?” he asked, his lips against her ear. “Yes, I want it. I want you.” Immediately she smelled him, a mixture of seawater, sawdust, and his own masculine scent. Her breath hitched as Birgir’s soft lips pressed against hers, a slow, tender kiss that left her knees weak. She was surprised at how soft his goatee felt against her skin, his whiskers tickling her and piquing her senses until all she wanted to do was unravel in his arms. A little sigh escaped as Birgir grazed his thumb along her jaw from her earlobe to her chin. Lips parting slowly, Teri deepened the kiss and tasted him. Her hands explored his defined chest through his soft cotton shirt, fingers pressing to muscle. He had the body of a laborer, his arms strong, shoulders sinewy and chest rock hard, begging to be licked and kissed. “Say it again,” he said against her lips. “I want you,” she told him. Birgir kissed her hard, his breath hot against her face as her hands slipped under his shirt and touched the light dusting of hair along his midsection. His stomach tightened as her

fingernails skimmed down to his belt. Pressing her torso to his, Teri moaned as Birgir’s long, thick fingers massaged the back of her skull. With no space left between them, she felt his cock pressed high against her belly, stiff and ready…

ALSO BY GABRINA GARZA Adeno The Catah Circle Circle Of Friends: All Fired Up Circle Of Friends: All Wet The Countess Of Suburbia Hot Phoenix Nights Jax and the Giant’s Bean Stalk One Last Kiss The Pagan King Phantom Desires Sex Between Strangers Take Me Out Wide Open Spaces River Of Time: Dreamwalker

RIVER OF TIME: HEART OF THE BEAR BY GABRINA GARZA

AMBER Q UILL PRESS, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com

RIVER OF TIME: HEART OF T HE BEAR AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2007 by Gabrina Garza ISBN 978-1-60272-256-9 Cover Art © 2007 Trace Edward Zaber

Layout and Formatting provided by: Elemental Alchemy

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

For Milla.

RIVER OF TIME: HEART OF THE BEAR

PROLOGUE Through the shrouded mist, Wir saw it, the tiny vessel in a sea of shadows and lapping water over black, jagged rocks. He knelt by the edge and listened to the shrieks of centuries past, the howl of wind, the crackle of thunder, and the age-old clash of metal against metal. “Come to me,” he said under his breath, his hand extended. “Leave Hel’s cradle and come to me, my child.” A heap of a man lay facedown in the boat, and Wir secured it on the shore. He stood and inhaled sharply as he waited for his son to stir. “Rise, my son, and see the life I have restored to you.” He shook him when the young man didn’t respond. “Do you 1

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remember this place? This world? St. Vincent,” he said, urgency in his voice. “Remember St. Vincent.” The man lifted his head and stared up at his father, his eyes weary but his face twisted in a smile that matched his mother’s cruel grin. “I have arrived,” he said. “Whom shall I find for you, my father?”

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CHAPTER 1 Edinburgh, Scotland Present Day “Excuse me, sir? Are there any tours to Inchcolm Island today?” Territory—or Teri as her friends called her—stood before the high counter and pursed her lips. Her hands were hidden in the green sleeves of her favorite sweater, her wavy blond hair, which she could see in the mirror behind the counter, windblown from the North Sea. The robust man squinted at her, his fleshy red face threatening to swallow up his small, watery gray eyes. Teri 3

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quickly looked away once she noticed his lazy eye staring at the door. “No, young miss. Weather won’t permit, and I’m afraid you’re tae late as it is,” he said, scratching his chest beneath his suspenders. He thumped the piece of paper that looked as though it had been taped to the desk a hundred times. “Can ye read the sign?” “I didn’t see the sign. Tomorrow? Is there an early one?” She did a quick once-over and saw there were only afternoon tours. “So I’d have to come back tomorrow if I want to see the island, right?” “Aye, just like it says. Tomorrow is another day, isn’t it, lass?” he said before he turned his back on her and sat at a computer that looked as old as he did. Her stomach growled as she walked out of the little stone building and dragged herself toward her waiting Renault Megane. She’d been lost from the moment she set foot on Edinburgh’s Royal Mile. The map proved useless. She had no sense of direction, and couldn’t tell one shop from the next as she stumbled over curbs and across bumps in the street. She could almost hear her father’s voice, telling her to quit, “yapping on her goddamn cell phone” so she would know where she was going. Earlier in the day she had reached a section of the road that had proven impossible to traverse. Forced to abandon her car, she walked downhill and wandered until she forgot where her car was—other than near a pub. Or was it a tavern? She couldn’t ask any of the locals because she couldn’t understand 4

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a damn thing they were saying and most, like Mr. Friendly at the tour desk, didn’t want to be bothered. This trip was supposed to be an adventure. Now her rental car was lost in the unknowns of Scotland. Not even a Tennent’s Lager—which was revolting—made Territory feel as though she belonged. But she was here, and in the Hail Family one did not bow out or roll belly-up to admit defeat. Hails trudged through no matter how much they preferred kicking and screaming. Besides, there was nothing she could do. She was stuck in Scotland for another ten days on the trip of a lifetime, the adventure that could very well be her untimely demise. “Stuck,” she mused. She was the only person in the world who would consider a two-week trip paid in full by her dad and stepmother a bleak and dreadful situation. Territory sat in her recovered rental car and stared through the windshield at the island and castle slowly disappearing in the dusk. The little fishing boats she’d seen when she entered the office building were now gone, while the pudgy man behind the counter locked up for the night, pausing long enough to sneer at her before he got into his vehicle and drove away. Digging into her bag, she grabbed her father’s digital camera—the one he had handed her with trepidation—and headed toward the wooden pier. On her schedule, she couldn’t really afford to wait until tomorrow afternoon to tour the castle. She had a laundry list of sites to see and places to visit crammed into every second of her vacation. Missing the last 5

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boat for the night wasn’t on her agenda. Come to think of it, she’d done a lot of things she hadn’t intended, like lose her car and her sense of direction. The planks were already wet from the incoming tide, and she stood rigid, treading lightly. She squinted in the dim light as she held her arms out for balance, knowing she must look like a blind dancer slowly inching forward into the unknown. “No wonder the rest of the world hates us,” she muttered. “Stupid, freaking Americans doing stupid, freaking things to get pictures of stupid, freaking castles.” Cars sped across the Forth Road Bridge above her head, and a train approaching the nearby rail bridge, the Forth Rail Bridge, cleverly enough, sounded its horn, startling her as she turned on her camera. For being so far away from the rest of civilization, it wasn’t quite a serene setting. It sort of reminded her of her old apartment in Chicago when she’d lived quite literally ten feet from the El train’s Red Line. At least she could tell her dad she had made it to Inchcolm, the place where her father had proposed to her mother some thirty years ago. While she navigated her way to the end of the pier, she concocted her story. Traffic in Edinburgh had been bad, she had run to get a ticket on the boat and had accidentally forgotten her camera. The only picture she could take was from the pier at dusk. From where she stood, it was indistinguishable from the rest of the Fife coast. There was no need to mention the blue-eyed bartender who had invited her to his flat after his shift that evening. Or the cute man, a few years older than she typically looked at, who 6

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had asked her to dinner. That was the good thing about being a tourist. Batting her eyes and scrunching her nose worked wonders for meeting handsome local men. They commented on her “charming” accent and offered to show her around their city. The twinkles in their eyes told her that their plans included showing her their bedroom ceilings. Unfortunately, every guy she met would end up as nothing more than a fling, and with college behind her, Teri was ready to grow up and join the world. As soon as she returned to Middle America, that is. What was the point of having a two-week trip, all expenses paid, and a credit card at her disposal if she couldn’t have a few flings? Nothing bad, of course, but if this was to be her only trip to Scotland while she was still in her twenties, then she may as well make it memorable. It was what her grandmother would have wanted, and Grandmother Clara was the reason she had crossed the Atlantic. Well, that and her eccentric parents’ wishes for her to become a little more cultured. That was supposed to help her find a better husband, which she needed just as much as she needed a hole in the head. Teri inched farther and farther out until she felt the seawater lapping against her shoes and new socks. Her nose began to run and she tried to reach into her purse and pull out a tissue. Cursing under her breath, she knew she’d made a mistake. She did have one more day in Edinburgh, and if it was absolutely necessary to photograph this island, she could always get up at dawn and photograph it before she went on another tour. 7

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“Or I could do it now and get some more sleep.” She fumbled with the camera just as her purse strap slipped off her shoulder and down to the crook of her elbow. A travel guide, several maps, wallet, change purse, car keys, and her bullet vibrator, which she considered way more important than American Express, threatened to topple her. Teeth gritted, she steadied herself on the wet boards and randomly pressed buttons with cold, stiff fingers. A red light blinked twice, but before she had a chance to congratulate herself, a blinding camera flashed directly into her face, filling her vision with stars. “Damn it!” she muttered. “Who the hell designs a microscopic camera with two thousand buttons on it?” At last the viewfinder sputtered to life. She wiped her face with her sleeves when the saltwater burning her eyes became too much. Looking through the screen, she tried to orient herself, though the darkness had blanketed the horizon before she realized it, and her only sense of direction was the bridge. Aggravated, she turned to leave, deciding she’d settled for a postcard. The pier rocked, shifting her to the left, then the right, and she felt the air turn colder, heavier than before. Unable to see, she tiptoed forward, but it was too late. Salt burned her eyes and water filled her lungs. A second, larger wave crashed over the pier and she lost her balance to the wall of icy cold sea water. The darkness disoriented her, the lights on the bridges offering only a glimpse of her surroundings as she fell to one knee, her purse wrapped around her wrist. Another wave struck the pier, causing her to drop the 8

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camera. Cursing again, she frantically searched for it, hoping that it would still work. With a mouth full of saltwater, she struggled in the dark. Her eyes stung and her fingers grew numb and useless, unable to hold onto her belongings or the safety of dry land. She choked as another wave knocked her onto her back and pummeled her without mercy. The pier disappeared beneath her, and before she was able to gather her wits, she was floating, sinking—somersaulting through the inky waters. Her hands grasped for something, anything, but all she found was seaweed tangle around her wrists dragging her farther down. With her last breath she screamed, hoping her voice had strength enough to be heard above the turbulent waves and traffic on the bridge. She prayed someone would hear her in the darkness that overwhelmed her and swallowed her whole. *

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*

Birgir rubbed his hands together, savoring the salty air. He had been born on a frigid night, his sister Ava had constantly told him, and the air in his lungs was always meant to stay cold. She said it was because his heart was made of fire. It kept him balanced. His father would have said that with such a hard head, nothing would keep his most stubborn son properly balanced. Or at least those were his brother Erik’s words. Through Ava and Erik he knew his parents, loving and firm, as hard as the rocks on which he stood and as peaceful as the sound of the 9

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ocean. He had no recollection of them to call his own, nothing that an infant could retain into adulthood. For all he knew, they had never existed in the first place, or at least that’s what his records in the orphanage claimed. Lost, wandering, found alone. He, his brother, and his sister had been found huddled together with nothing to call their own save the raggedy clothes on their backs. “Peace be wi’ ye,” Birgir murmured as he turned to secure his boat. He caressed his hammer-shaped amulet and wanly smiled as he glanced back at the smooth shoreline. “And the Aesir as well.” Another backbreaking day of moving the furniture he had built left him weary, his dark blond hair tangled and refusing to stay pulled back in a ponytail. His hands hurt from the cold, and he couldn’t wait to build a fire and read for the evening. Finally solace, finally a moment to stretch out and unwind from a day filled with demanding customers. Just like the figures he carved into head boards and shelves, he read about dark tales of embattled giants and gods, selfish dwarves and foolish mortals. One by one he brought them to life, allowing them an opportunity of glory in a time where electronics entertained. He picked up a jagged stone and hurled it into the sea, thinking he could have used a giant to help him haul his boat and return home. Among the craggy rocks protruding from Mortimer’s Deep, he’d constructed his secluded stone house, completely 10

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invisible from the shore, just as he’d wanted. A hermit’s paradise, he had mused, built with his own blood and sweat. As he gathered his rope and moored the vessel, he wished he’d taken his bartending friend Craig up on his offer and had stayed in Edinburgh for the evening. With the sea becoming rougher and the days much shorter, he wouldn’t go to town often. He had food enough to last him for weeks and enough books and household upkeep to preoccupy him until he went ashore. One last night of drinking and seducing women would have been a world better than sitting alone, but he’d chosen solitude to the rest of society. “Sometimes ye look as though ye emerged from the dark ages, Bir,” Craig told him before he left the tavern and returned to the pier. Craig enjoyed calling him Bir simply because Birgir threatened to punch him if he continued calling him stout, lager, or ale. Most of the locals called him Bir, or Red Beard when his goatee grew out and his dark blond facial hair turned coppery. While Birgir nursed a whiskey and ignored his bartending friend, Craig finished wiping down mugs and set them on the counter. “It’s not going tae kill ye if ye stay away from the sea for a few days. You’d be surprised at how much better looking women are than puffins and seals.” Another sullen glare. By now, Craig would have usually given up and left to ask the pretty girls if they needed anything else, but tonight—being a Friday—he felt the need to get his friend laid for what would probably be the last time in a good three months. 11

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“The words ‘brooding artist’ are so seventies.” Craig paused, waiting for Birgir to reply. “Christ, man. The 1970s? You remember those, right? Forget it. Girls dig the aloof, moody artist once in a while, which ye have doon tae a bloody science.” “Woot do ye ken about women? I didna think ye liked them.” Craig had leaned farther over the bar. “I like them, I just don’t want tae sleep with them. Honestly, ye need more than that. Stay here tonight and we’ll have some fun. Come on, it’s been ages since ye and I have done anything.” “I’ll think aboot it,” Birgir replied, tipping Craig better than usual before he walked out of the pub and nearly clipped some girl with her nose in a map and an oversized bag that could have been used as a weapon. Craig was right. Birgir smiled wryly and decided that tomorrow he would stay in town. He knew Craig would offer up his flat as long as that out-of-towner he was ogling wasn’t in his bed. Knowing Craig, he’d probably say the bed was big enough for three. Shaking his head, Birgir turned and saw what appeared to be a seal disappear into the dark water from the corner of his eye. He turned to see if he could find the animal again, but it was gone. “Selkie,” he murmured. “Ah, well, bet ye weren’t goodlooking anyhow.” He looked back at his boat one last time and saw a flash from the shoreline near the old pier used for boats heading out 12

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to the castle. At first he passed it off as lightning, since the air had smelled like rain all day. But lightning never screamed.

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CHAPTER 2 It felt like being stabbed to death with little, tiny needles penetrating every inch of flesh while dozens more turned her lungs into a pincushion. Each time Territory’s face broke the frigid water’s surface, she gasped for breath, spitting and sputtering the saltwater from her mouth before she tumbled into the ocean’s depths again. She stubbornly attempted to hold onto the camera as she struggled to find the pier, the rocks, the shoreline, anything at all. Periods of submersion grew longer, her chances for another breath denied as the icy waves pushed her farther and farther from the shore. Suddenly, her shoulder collided with something solid, her 14

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numb fingers clawing, desperately clinging to her only chance to survive. Locks of hair lashed across her face, her eyes blinded by saltwater and seaweed that wrapped around her neck. She gagged, attempting to crawl up as the waves beat against her. Upon forcing her eyes open, she realized there was no place to go, no way to pull herself up. Her breath created steam in the chilly October night, and as she gasped she saw the lights in the distance. Her mind refused to work, but somehow she knew she couldn’t survive much longer submerged up to her neck in freezing water. Her teeth chattered so hard she thought they might chip. “Someone,” she whispered, her voice captured by the night. “Someone, please.” The ocean knocked her against her only refuge, threatened to crack her ribs on the unforgiving rock. Waves crashed over her head, blinding and suffocating her until she thought for sure she’d sink to the bottom. Her body no longer hurt, the cold numbing her inside and out. She released a soft moan, the only sound her body felt capable of making. In the back of her head she felt like screaming, arguing that she couldn’t give up, not like this. Not here. Not on a trip her mother had wanted her to take. Not without doing something with her life. “Help,” she said, her voice strained. She tried to pull herself up, but she could barely move. It felt as though ice would encase her, leave her in a clear casket for the world to see, frozen to Scotland. 15

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And then suddenly she heard a voice calling out, riding the waves that threatened her life. Territory screamed back, her words emerging so hoarse she could barely hear herself. But it was a scream and it was all she had against the night. A dark, shapeless form crashed through the waves several yards away like a monster breaking the water’s surface. Her eyes strained to make out the object from the darkness before the waves dragged her down again. This time she fought harder, knowing it might be her only chance to survive. A strangled scream left her mouth, though she had no idea if it came out as anything more than a squeak. Once again she saw the sea monster lurch forward, and this time she realized it was a small boat with a man standing at the helm. He looked almost as large as the boat, a giant of the sea come to rescue or mock her. “Let go o’ the rook,” he shouted over the hum of the motor. He leaned forward, his arm extended toward her even though he remained a good twenty feet away. The flashlight in his hand glimmered, the bulb flickering between life and death. Territory had no choice. Her hands were raw and numb, her body beaten into a bloody submission. With one last gulp of air, she did her best to fling herself into the ocean, hoping she would find the surface again. *

*

*

She disappeared into the dark waters as though she’d never existed at all. 16

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Birgir counted the seconds, a rope in one stiff, painful hand and a dying flashlight in the other. Five seconds. He had hoped to toss her a line and haul her to safety once she let go of the rocks, but the moment she chose to abandon her perch, the sea swallowed her down in one ravenous gulp. Fifteen seconds. “Come oon,” Birgir whispered, balancing on the helm of his little boat anchored dangerously near the rocks. “Don’t ye dare drown oon ma!” All he’d seen was a half second of her face, the terror in her eyes of being swept beneath the ocean. She was the source of the flash he’d seen and the scream he’d heard, and now that he’d found her, she’d disappeared on him. “Show yourself, selkie,” he muttered. “And for the sake of the gods do it now.” It was impossible to find her—whoever this woman was who had fallen into the water. At night the North Sea became a behemoth’s gaping black mouth, the rocks jutting from the surface like rotting fangs. There was nothing he could do but wait and hope he could snatch her from the water. Twenty-five seconds. Birgir shook the flashlight, increasing the light for a few meager seconds. He did it again and searched the water, attempting to find the nameless woman. Just before the beam dimmed, he caught a glimpse of something pale in the darkness and reached for it without thinking. Cold and limp, he gave a tug, feeling the fine bones 17

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of her wrist and the dead weight of her motionless body. The waves pushed her up, catapulting her toward his watercraft. Ignoring the threat of capsizing, he leaned over the edge and dipped his arm elbow-deep into the sea, feeling the needle-like sting race up his flesh. For a moment he grappled wi th the sea as Aegir relented a moment, then reclaimed his victim. Teeth gritted, he forced himself to hold on a moment longer, past the burn of exhausted muscles and the pain in his lower back from a day of hard labor. This was more important than comfort, more important than himself. This was another person’s life. Leaning over the edge, his fingers closed around fabric and he tugged, pulling her from the water. “I’ve got ye,” he said. Her head rolled forward as Birgir knelt in his boat and grabbed her under the arms, dragging her in beside him. The waves tossed them about, but the sturdy little vessel bobbed and refused to be taken by Aegir. The god of the sea would have to wait for another victim. At last he steadied himself and blew on his hands to warm them. The flashlight had died completely, leaving him with little more than shadows. Her body lay still and heavy in his grasp, a dead weight he wanted to revive at once. “Can ye hear ma?” Birgir frantically asked as he tapped the woman’s cheeks. Her eyes rolled open and she groaned, her teeth chattering so violently she couldn’t answer. Gasps left her mouth as though she were about to turn from a woman into a fish out of water. 18

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He grabbed her by the chin and squinted, attempting to see if her pupils were dilated. As long as she breathed she was still alive, and though he could only feel her shallow breaths, her body trembled, shivering in waves—a dismal sign of her health. Years spent by the sea and he knew what was happening to her. She needed to get warm and dry fast before she succumbed to hypothermia. “I’m taking ye some place safe,” he told her. She clutched his wrist, her hold so strong it startled him. Wide-eyed in the darkness, she stared into his face, silently pleading for his help. “Hold oon. I’m going tae save ye if ye stay with ma,” he said under his breath as he covered her in his bearskin cloak and steered the boat toward his home, knowing she would be dead before he reached Edinburgh. *

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Birgir cradled the woman in his arms and began to shiver from her soaking wet clothes penetrating through his shirt. Carefully moving along the wet rocks toward his stone façade house, he asked her if she could stand, but knew she couldn’t. All the way toward the island he’d questioned her merely to keep her awake and responsive. She didn’t need to answer him, as by the firelight he noted her pallid skin and dilated eyes. With each heartbeat she turned lethargic and her shivering ceased as her body began to shut down. She was dying on him, just as he’d told her not to do the entire boat ride home and up to the door. 19

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Laying her on the floor, he knelt over her and removed her shoes and socks. Her pink toenails were in stark contrast to her blue feet. Her blood had rushed to her torso, protecting her vital organs as best they could. “Listen, love, you’re going tae freeze tae death in these wet clothes.” Curled up into the fetal position, she nodded and exhaled a barely discernable groan. He didn’t know what it meant and he didn’t care. He couldn’t wait to decipher her words. “I’m no’ going tae hurt ye, but I need tae get ye oot of your wet clothes before ye freeze tae death,” he said, flexing his hands to increase his own blood flow before he began unbuttoning her jeans. She was teetering, he knew, between consciousness and sure death, but her eyes remained fixed on him. He wasn’t certain if she could comprehend what was happening—and truthfully Birgir didn’t know what was happening either—but he couldn’t wait for her permission if she was to live. He had to undress her and bring her body temperature up or he’d be returning a corpse to the shore. Gently he pulled her jeans down her hips and thighs, careful of where he placed his hands. Her flat belly quivered, her legs trembling ever so slightly. He hoped it was a good sign. “Good girl,” he said, meeting her eye as he pulled her panties down and crumpled beside her jeans. He kept his gaze trained on hers, attempting to give her as much privacy as possible. If she lived—and she wasn’t going to die without a 20

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damn good fight—he didn’t want her slapping him for his efforts. “Stay awake and listen tae ma.” Once he stripped her of her wet clothes, he wrapped her body in a thick, wooly blanket, one his sister-in-law Storm had mailed to him for his birthday, all the way from South America. He told the woman in his charge about his snakewrangling sister-in-law as he lifted her from the floor and carried her to his bed. He swept frozen strands of hair away from her face and touched her forehead. “She’d know woot tae do for ye,” he said. “She’s like that.” He left her for a moment to gather towels for her hair. Though he sweated, he added more wood and a few peat pellets to the fire, all the while keeping an eye on her as he maneuvered through the crowded studio, scooting chairs back into place and stepping over piles of books and half-finished canvases of a time he didn’t remember. “Stay awake for ma, love,” he said, seeing her eyes flutter shut. The woman groaned again, and Birgir returned to her side, rubbing water from her long, dark blond hair. Her lips were still blue, her face colorless as though a mask had been painted over her features, a twisted, paralyzed expression of fear. He could tell she wasn’t warming fast enough, at least not to his liking. Still lingering on the brink of death, he couldn’t let her waver a moment longer. She would need more than just a blanket to raise her temperature. 21

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Taking a deep breath, Birgir unbuttoned his shirt and set it aside while she looked on, terror in her gaze as he walked toward her. He sat on the edge of the bed and carefully drew back the blanket, his gaze trained just over her shoulder. “I won’t do anything tae ye. Ye have ma word,” he mumbled as he lay down beside her and placed one arm beneath her body, feeling her smooth, ice cold flesh. She sucked in a breath and released a soft groan, and for the first time since he’d pulled the blanket back, he met her eye. Swallowing hard, he thought he saw permission flicker through his eyes, understanding that he only wanted to help her. With a nod, he drew her closer, shivering as her chilled body settled against his warm flesh. Belly to belly, her eyes rolled back in her head and her lips parted, allowing him a feel of her warm breath. He didn’t know for certain, but it seemed like a good sign that she remained warm on the inside, the last of her heat contained where she needed it most. As he grew used to her feel, he pulled her closer, rearranging her arm to fit beneath his and her legs to nestle close to his. Holding her tight, he realized how long it had been since he’d held a woman like this, quiet and gentle, a lazy serenade of breaths and sighs. She finally rested, which he knew she needed, and he took comfort in seeing her at ease. “I won’t let ye go,” he promised. “Not unless ye ask it of ma.” Her eyes flickered open one last time as Birgir set his free hand against her cheek and warmed her face. For a heartbeat 22

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he thought he saw a smile, a sweet and silent acknowledgment. “Ye can’t leave ma,” he murmured, brushing his fingers down to her jaw, wanting to talk to her for a lifetime and discover just who had fallen into the ocean. It wasn’t every day he happened upon selkies, and this one seemed much more interesting than the ones in stories. Rather than him taking her skin, she’d taken his heat and part of his life. What she’d do with it he didn’t know, but he saw determination in her gaze. “No, ma love, ye can’t leave ma. Not without first giving ma your name.”

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CHAPTER 3 Life pulsed into Territory, each thrum of blood restoring her vitality. It felt as though sunlight filled her belly and covered her back, a tide of contentment rolling over the bitter cold escaping through her fingertips, her toes, and the ends of her hair. Slowly waking, she became aware of fizzles tickling her insides, warm and pleasant as though someone held a plastic bubble wand and sent soapy orbs through her veins. Her mind floated to childhood memories, to visions of her mom sitting on the front porch with her hands between her knees and a pink bandana around her hair, the one she always wore while cleaning. 24

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Memories and warmth reassured her that she was safe, that the dark water and the jagged rocks were gone. Her muscles relaxed and her legs slowly stretched from being tightly curled in the fetal position. One by one, her senses became increasingly acute, starting with the taste of the sea on her lips. Wood smoke stung her nose and the back of her throat, followed by the scent of peat, which she’d smelled throughout her journey in Scotland. The crackle of a fire and wind howling through the shutters made her tense, but endless warmth comforted her. She swallowed and allowed her shoulders to relax as she listened to her own steady breaths. Opening her eyes was always the most difficult part of the morning, and she took her time to adjust to the low light and surrounding shadows. Her fingers clasped soft, dark fur of what she thought may have been from a chocolate Labrador. Confused, she lifted her head and the gentle pressure on her abdomen, which she hadn’t noticed, shifted to her hip and immediately stilled her. Skin touched her bare skin, and a warm breath blew against the exposed nape of her neck, startling her to full consciousness. Territory struggled to the edge of the bed with a strangled yelp and forced her bruised, stiff body into action. She misjudged her distance and toppled over the edge, taking the blanket with her in a flailing heap to the stone flooring. A pair of the biggest boots she’d ever seen greeted her beneath the bed as did stack after stack of books. She’d been kidnapped by a literary giant. 25

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The bed creaked and she looked up into the face of a bearded man with light, hooded eyes and a mess of hair spilling from his ponytail. His expression mirrored the fear and concern she felt inside, though she could barely hold his gaze. The rest of him proved far too inviting, a buffet of defined abs and a hard chest, a feast for hungry eyes. “Easy noo,” the half-naked man said as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Large, masculine feet rested beside her outstretched hand, and she followed his perfect calves up to his wide, muscular thighs. Knit boxer shorts briefly cut off her view, though she’d seen enough to make her cheeks burn with a blush. She forced her gaze up to a silver amulet hung around his neck, an intricate design surrounded a round stone in the middle. An antique, she thought, something only an artist would possess. He didn’t seem to notice how she stared at him, which she considered a good thing. His deep blue eyes appeared groggy as he wiped his face with his hand and stifled a yawn. “Good mornin’ tae ye,” he said in a deep, raspy voice. “Who the hell are you?” Territory asked, struggling to wrap the fur blanket firmly under her arms. It grossed her out that it was real fur, especially since she’d gone vegan two years ago, but she had no choice other than sit naked in front of him. “Ma name is Birgir Thorsson.” He held out his hand and she moved away, which made him nod. “I’m not going tae hurt ye,” he said, his tone velvety soft. His voice gave her goose bumps, though she wasn’t sure why. Everyone in 26

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Scotland had a burr, though his seemed sexier than the rest. Or maybe it was the sight of his powerful arms and shoulders she wanted to bite that had started to turn her on even though she should have been searching for answers. Once he buttoned his shirt, he leaned further over the bed and picked up a dark blue sweater from a stool. He shook it out before handing it to her, his gaze fixed several inches above her head as though he didn’t want to creep her out by ogling her. All the warmth she had felt was instantly sapped and her teeth began to chatter as she sat on the stone floor. Pain started to return, resonated through her midsection and shot down her arms and legs. She glanced down and saw the bruises forming up and down her arms. Her legs, which she tucked under the blanket, were scraped raw and bruised. Golden threads tangled between her toes, and as she moved to brush them away, they turned into droplets of water. She blinked twice, feeling goose bumps on her arms. “Ran,” he said quietly. “She almost had ye.” “Excuse me?” She looked up to meet his eye. “She must have tired of catching sailors in her golden net and thought her hall might need a brighter jewel,” he replied. “I wouldna blame her for wanting something better.” “Some sort of Scottish legend?” He shook his head. “The way of the Norsemen.” “Oh, I get it. You’re some sort of folk storyteller.” Birgir sat back and scratched his head. “Not really.” Tension pulled at the back of her head in what she knew 27

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was the start of a killer headache. The bubbly, warm summer day feeling she’d woke with had faded into a harsh, cold Scottish autumn. “What happened? Where am I? How long have I been… with you?” Birgir remained seated. Hands clasped, he rested his forearms on his thighs and looked her over as though he needed to gauge how ready she was for the truth. Another fucking story, she told herself. First some B.S. about sailors and golden nets. “How do ye feel?” “I think you should be answering me.” His fingers tensed, the column of his throat tightening noticeably. “It’s been aboot two hours, I’d say. I didna look when I found ye tae see woot time it was, love.” Teri stared at his hands, at the scratches and old scars speckling his knuckles. There was something intriguing about a man who obviously used his hands, especially one who spoke softly and was gruff by appearance. He had a broad nose and strong jaw, his cheekbones set high and eyes hooded. Handsome, yet appearing stern and unwavering, like a man who could equally tame the sea as he could fight it. Each time she looked at him she found herself drawn to the intensity of his gaze. “Why did you undress me?” She felt as though she were slowly emerging from anesthesia to turn fighting mad. He nodded as though expecting her question. “Necessity.” “Oh, really?” 28

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“Aye, love. When I fished ye oot o’ the water ye were hypothermic. The blankets weren’t warming ye fast enough and I, well, I feared I’d lose ye if I didna do anything. I told ye everything I was doing, though I suppose ye don’t remember that part.” Vaguely she did remember him through a cloud of terror and certain death. She remembered the dull glow of a flashlight, the monstrous figure in the boat, and how she’d been unable to communicate how she felt. She followed his gaze to her soaking wet clothes piled in the center of the room and remembered her first aid classes. They were mandatory at her old job, though she was never quite sure how half of the information would apply to her while she worked in an office building. “Skin-to-skin contact,” she said. He nodded and rose to his full height, which made Territory draw in a breath. With his back to her, she pulled the sweater over her head and shimmied into the wooly warmth, feeling sufficiently heated but not at all as warm and cozy as she had before she’d opened her eyes. “So you saved my life,” she said. He shrugged. “I kept ye from freezing tae death, maybe.” “Did you see me fall into the water?” “I thought ye were going for a swim. I didna ken ye fell.” “Is that supposed to be…funny?” “Aye, supposed to be.” Uncomfortable silence filled the room and Birgir tossed two more logs into the massive stone fireplace while she 29

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looked on, unsure of what to say to him. “Thank you,” she said meekly. “Just don’t do it again.” She smiled at his words and nodded. “I’ll do my best.” Sparks flew up around him like tiny orange fireflies dancing, twirling over his head, then diving to the ground. He rearranged the wood in the hearth a moment before he turned, glancing at her from the corner of his eye as though he wasn’t sure if he could look yet. “I’ll find ye something to wear in a moment. Would ye fancy tea, love?” The fire warmed his features, illuminating his lips and giving his dark blond hair a golden hue. He stood with his shoulders hunched and his head slightly tilted down, which made him appear shy and respectful, a bear of a man but a gentleman at heart. Even though she told herself to look away, she stared at him. This was the very essence of what Territory and her girlfriends constantly searched for in bars, clubs, and gyms. It was all too easy to find good-looking men who were pushy and self-absorbed, and even easier to find geeky guys who didn’t have the confidence to talk to a woman. But a guy who was handsome, sweet, and a little shy? He was like the Holy Grail. “Love?” Birgir tried again. He was staring at her fully now, his intense blue eyes catching her unaware. “Tea would be great,” she said at last, feeling her face flush when she noticed him struggling to hold back a grin. It had been a long time since any guy had made her feel like a 30

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giggling, bumbling idiot, but that’s how he made her feel, and for some reason it just seemed right. She patted the fur throw and frowned. “I think I lost everything.” “Not everything,” he replied with a knowing smile. “Well, yeah, but I think I lost my passport and my dad’s new camera, which might be equivalent to my life.” He nodded and signaled for her to hold on a moment. “Ye had your purse with ye. I’ll get it for ye.” “Where is it?” “In the boat. I’ll start the water warmin’ and step outside,” Birgir said as he placed a copper kettle on the wood burning stove. Striding toward a long dresser at the end of the bed, he half-smiled and draped sweatpants over the footboard. “There are some slippers under the bed if the floor’s tae cold for ye. Knock on the door whenever you’re ready or when the kettle whistles.” And with that he grabbed a heavy fur coat off a hook by the door and left Teri to herself.

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CHAPTER 4 Eyes closed, Alaric listened to the stone’s pulsing rhythm, to the beat of something ancient his father had only told him about in the dead of night when they strolled through the darkest places of the world. His travel down the mystic river had stolen his memories, repaved them with heavy bricks of the present. Evil still existed as strong as it had in years past, buried in the hearts of men who knew nothing but vile deeds and bloody, mass slaughter. Standing against it were mortal gods and their brewing powers, though none of it would last forever. The end would come and swallow them up into nothingness. 32

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With any luck, he and his father would kill it all very soon, very soon indeed. And take what Thor had to offer. Erik Thorsson had been fortunate, though he was stronger and more cunning than Wir had first realized. The murmur of time swelled, almost lost in the churning of an angry sea and howling wind, of grass and reeds and evershifting sands. He clenched his hands, studied it as he had on his journey through centuries, nursing from the very teat of honor and revenge. The beat slowed until he almost lost it, but it was there nevertheless, still waiting to be discovered and rescued from its dormant state. Alaric just needed to find where it was located and make it his own—and that of his father. “Cousin,” Alaric whispered before he turned away from the sea. “It’s been far too long, Birgir, far too long indeed.” *

*

*

The moment Territory stood, she thought she would double over in agony, but with a few choice words muttered between her teeth she managed to steady herself. The worst pain came from her right hip, which she discovered had a fist-sized purple knot. She grimaced at the sight of it before threading her legs through Birgir’s sweatpants. He stood at least a foot and a half taller than her, which left her swimming in his clothes. The drawstring couldn’t possibly hold up the pants, but she cinched it as tight as possible and tried to roll the fabric over to keep it in place. 33

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When she finally finished, the body she’d worked for months to tone at the gym before her big trip lay hidden beneath baggy layers of a man’s clothes. “I look like an elf,” she muttered to herself, turning to examine her new outfit in the mirror. Her butt was nonexistent, her runway perfect thighs shapeless in droopy sweatpants faded by washing. “An elf wearing a giant’s clothes.” Before retrieving Birgir, she scanned the fire-lit room, trudging through piles of books and boxes while holding up her baggy pants. Her head pounded and body ached, adding to her increasing misery, though she couldn’t help but be a little nosy. With a stone fireplace taking up half the wall, the room looked like a museum exhibit for an arcane homestead. There were ships and warriors, great swans and long houses carved into the mantle, each motif intricately detailed. On the shelf he had miniature ships and armor clad warriors with axes and round shields. Her nephew Ian would have loved playing with the wooden figurines, creating battles and devising plans. She picked up a wooden figure larger than the rest and traced her finger along the lightning bolt in his hand. “Thor.” She smiled to herself and placed him back on the mantle beside a boat with three children clinging to the sides. Territory ran her fingers over the carvings, marveling at the workmanship until she heard the wind beating against the door and thought she’d better call Birgir back inside before her hero froze to death. 34

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With a deep breath, she hung her soaking clothes near the fire and placed her tennis shoes by the woodpile, hoping they’d dry in a few hours. As she stood on the inlaid stone flooring she shivered, then loped across the room in search of the slippers he’d mentioned. She grinned to herself the moment she found two woollined slippers nearly twice the size as her own feet. They may as well have been skis. “Men with big feet.” She sighed before she pushed the door open and called out to Birgir. *

*

*

He still didn’t know her name. Wrapped in a bearskin cloak, Birgir sat on a rock near the island’s edge and felt the sea spray against his face. He swore he heard Ran cackle, telling him he’d won the lady back now, but at any time she might attempt to steal back her prize. He crossed his arms and followed lines of traffic from the bridge, the fog swallowing up most signs of life. Like most autumn nights it was cold and crisp, and Birgir found he welcomed the sting of icy water against his skin. It cleared his mind, which was far too easily muddled by a woman on his island, the first in many, many years. With a handful of pebbles, he skipped them along the waves, barely watching where they went. He couldn’t possibly keep his mind on anything but her, whoever she was. His only purpose was to keep her alive, but lying against her with his face in her hair had conjured up intense emotions he hadn’t 35

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intended. It didn’t much matter. By morning, he would take her back to the pier, offer her a warm breakfast, and never see her again. The lack of an accent assured him she wasn’t from Edinburgh, much less Scotland, so he had no fear of bumping into her again. There was no denying what needed to be done, but he felt something wrenching inside him. This girl was different than any he had met in the past, though he knew he could easily pass it off as the way he’d met her. He couldn’t describe what it was, but he had felt it the moment he had pulled her from the water, a bond he’d never felt with anyone. Nothing from the mainland had stirred his senses the way she had done—but then again he’d never saved anyone’s life before. He felt as though he needed to know a little more about her, especially since he’d undressed her and placed her in his bed. “Necessity,” he reminded himself. If he hadn’t done it, she’d most likely be dead. But now that she was alive, he wanted to know where she’d come from and how she’d ended up here. That would be enough for him, at least until she was gone. Few had braved the sea to step upon his little island and into his home. It had always been his preference to live alone ever since the children’s home had stuck him in a room with his brother Erik and five other children they didn’t know. Ava had been separated from them, forced to live with the girls in the dormitory across the grounds, though she’d never been one to follow rules and had sneaked across to visit her brothers and share stories of what they remembered, evilness the nuns 36

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would beat all three of them for spreading. There is only one true God, only one true faith. Say it. Say it! After he’d run away, he’d decided not to share his space with anyone. For a long time he’d hated Erik for not coming with him, and wouldn’t speak with Ava, who could survive in a new world without anything holding her back. Where they’d flourished, he’d shrunk away, busying himself with woodwork and carpentry, which he’d realized was ironic considering he’d turned his back on a religion based on a man who’d been a carpenter. He’d always wanted to be left alone, but seeing her in his home made him almost willing to abandon his hermit’s house. Almost. Solitude was what he knew best. Rowing out to the mainland only reassured him that he was different, that the time for men such as he had passed long ago. Birgir turned when he heard the door creaking open and saw the nameless woman pad into the darkness. He stood, watching her as she surveyed her surroundings. He couldn’t tell if she was uncomfortable or wary. She only seemed curious, not at all judgmental as others had been. “How do ye feel?” “I’m okay. The clothes don’t really fit, but it’s better than…the other thing.” “Ye cannae be walking around in a rug,” he said. She gave the faintest hint of a smile. “It’s not really my type of fashion.” He scratched the back of his head and looked away. 37

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Conversation wasn’t his strong point. Looking at her, he wasn’t sure he had a strong point. “You live on an island?” she asked. “Aye. Doesn’t everybody?” She smiled, wandering closer to him, which he considered a good sign. He didn’t like taking the boat out at night unless he had to, and with how choppy the sea appeared he knew it would be a rough ride back to shore. “Not where I come from.” “An’ where woo that be?” “Minnesota,” she answered. He nodded and looked her over. “An American, then?” “Yep, a stupid American falling into the ocean.” “Do they have oceans in Minnesota?” “No, but there are enough bodies of water where I should have known better.” He grunted and gave another nod. “I thought ye were a selkie.” He swore he saw a hint of her nipples through the loaned sweater, hard and pebbled, waiting to be suckled and bitten. He felt his cock twitch, desire heating his blood. He’d purposely ignored touching her breast when he’d had her pressed up against him, but now he couldn’t help himself. Now she wasn’t a victim but a woman. A very real, very alive woman standing before him. Birgir cleared his throat and removed his cloak. He stood and extended it to her. “Cannae risk ye again, love.” She eyed it warily. “Aren’t you going to be cold?” “No’ as cold as ye,” he answered, finding it nearly 38

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impossible to keep his eyes from her the outline of her breasts. With one stern look she thanked him and took the wrap. He looked away as she swaddled herself in his cloak and leaned against the rock where he had been sitting. “So what’s a selkie?” He turned toward her and smiled. “Some people think a storm is the most dangerous thing the sea has to offer, but only the most experienced ken it’s the selkie.” She grinned, chuckling to herself as she listened. “It sounds like I need to know more.” “Aye, for your protection I’ll tell ye woot they are so you’re on the look out for them.” “Be specific,” she said, winding a strand of hair around her finger. She turned her head to the side and looked at him, her bright eyes dazzling and seductive. Just one look at her and he nearly forgot what he was about to say. “They’re seal-folk from Orkney. Have ye been tae Orkney?” “Not yet.” “Then let this be a warnin’ tae ye, love. They’re dangerous, beautiful, mischievous creatures tha’ come ashore tae seduce the regular folk. One look into their eyes an’ any mortal man is smitten, caught by their ravishing beauty. There’s no chance tae escape—unless the poor dolt manages tae steal the selkie’s skin.” “Steal it? Do they just leave it lying around?” “Aye, they leave it on the beaches and steal the hearts and minds of all who see them. It’s only fair tae steal something 39

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back.” “So they freeze to death?” “No, no and don’t ye be feeling sorry for the buggers.” She grinned. “Okay, okay. Then what?” “Ye see, the selkie can’t return tae the sea unless it has its sealskin, and if it’s stolen…the selkie is no longer free.” “How do I know you’re not a selkie?” Birgir raised a brow. “Tha’s a good question, love.” “This could be your selkie skin,” she said as the wind tugged at her wavy hair. With a grin, she disappeared into the furry hood. “Aye, it could be, but I’ve nivver heard o’ bear-folk roaming the ocean.” “Not quite as intriguing,” she replied as she glanced at him and smiled before training her gaze on the sky. Birgir sat beside her and watched waves crash over the rocks, the sea’s white hands stretching upon the island shores before slinking away into darkness. For the first time he relaxed and enjoyed comfortable silence in the presence of another person. Excursions onto the Royal Mile were normally lubricated by pints of lager and shots of whiskey, consumed mutually by him and the women who would inevitably lean in and ask if he wanted to go someplace quieter. “Oh, ehm,” he said, reaching down between them. “Your bag.” He reached for the strap. “I don’t ken if it’s the water or if your bag weighs more than these rocks we’re sitting on.” He fumbled, attempting to hand it to her while she struggled to grab it from him. Before she took hold of the wide 40

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strap, he let it go and they both dodged to grab it before it hit the ground. Her head slammed into his shoulder and he grabbed her, keeping her from falling to her knees. The contents of her bag scattered along the rocky shoreline, a cascade of womanly items straight out of a department store glass case. “I didna mean—” “It’s not your fault.” She picked up a slender black tube that he thought was the stuff girls put either on their lips or their eyelashes. “We’re just a pair, aren’t we?” He knelt beside her and picked up a bottle of aspirin, a soggy bundle of papers, and a long silver bullet with a black end. “So ye hunt werewolves, too, eh?” he asked. She glanced up, her lips shaped like an O in question. Slowly her gaze dropped to his outstretched hand and horror passed through her expression. “Um,” she said, her lips working without sound. “A silver bullet.” He twisted the end and the tiny piece of silver plastic began to vibrate in his grasp. Startled, he immediately turned it off and stared at it, realization coming far too late. “Ah, Christ.” He stared at the vibrator a moment before he turned his head away and dropped it back into her back. “I’m—I’m sorry.” “I don’t know who could possibly be more embarrassed right now,” she said, scrambling to retrieve the rest of her possessions. 41

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“I’m going tae pretend I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said. “So that you don’t feel embarrassed?” “Aye.” He started to reach for something, anything, but she’d already put everything back into her bag. With nothing else to do, he swept his hand over his hair and pursed his lips. He shouldn’t have been imagining her naked and sprawled out on his bed, but his mind refused to leave the image. “There’s, ehm, one thing I dannae understand.” She took a deep breath and looked at him, obviously attempting to be mature and reasonable given her stiff expression. “And that would be what? Why I have it?” “No, I ehm…” He shifted his weight, knowing he should have come ashore more often for basic conversation. “I dannae understand how it still works after it was…wet.” “Because it’s…” She brought her hands, still disguised by her sleeves, up to her mouth. For a moment he thought she might burst into tears as her body stiffened, her shoulders hunched and eyes hidden from view. “Never mind,” he said. “None of ma business.” Laughter pealed from her like music he’d never heard before, and she leaned forward on her knees, her forehead pressed against his shoulder. Her body jiggled with uncontainable laughter, her breaths warm as they penetrated through his shirt. “Because it’s waterproof. Oh, Birgir, please tell me this isn’t happening,” she said when she finally caught her breath. He smiled down at her, lips inches from the top of her 42

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head. If he bent just slightly he could kiss her, turn an awkward moment into something sweet—or something much more awkward. “That was ma fault,” he said. She looked up at him and shook her head. With another smile, she bit her bottom lip. “You can’t keep taking full responsibility for me.” “You’re right. I dannae even ken who ye are yet. May I ask woot your name is, love?” “I’m sorry, I should have introduced myself earlier, well before I introduced my vibrator.” “Believe ma, it tells ma a lot about ye.” She lowered her eyes. “My name is Territory Hail,” she said, looking at her bag. He noticed how she kept her hands concealed within her sweater sleeves, using the length as mittens. This intrigued him, and he would have studied her forever if she hadn’t spoken. “Some of my friends call me Teri.” “Which do ye prefer?” Territory shrugged, leaning so close that he could feel the warmth of her body beside him. She hunched her shoulders and grimaced. “It doesn’t matter.” “Then I’ll call ye ma selkie.” Her eyebrows rose as she tilted her head to the side. “Because I’m dangerous and mysterious?” “Aye, but you’re forgetting the most important part.” “Irresistibly gorgeous?” “Aye, it’s part of their intrigue.” 43

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She laughed out loud and playfully pushed against his arm, childish but welcomed, as though she’d known him his entire life and could walk into his soul. Her fingers brushed against his forearm, warm from the depths of her sleeves. “Smooth, Birgir.” He stared at her hand, still touching his arm, before looking into her eyes. He’d never heard anyone pronounce his name the way she did. Her American accent was endearing, if not completely wrong. Even his sister-in-law Storm at least attempted to roll his name off her tongue, but Teri said it without an ounce of effort. As though she’d said it a hundred times in her own way. He smiled as he stood, feeling the wind against his arms. “Come on, Selkie,” he said, nodding toward the door. “You’ve been in the cold long enough tonight.”

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CHAPTER 5 Damn, if he didn’t have the sexiest accent she had ever heard and the ability to make her forget everything in the world. Not even a completely humiliating moment could stop her from lusting over him. Hell, even as he held up her vibrator she wanted to imagine him using it on her, sliding it along her slit and around her clit until she begged him to fuck her. Thoughts like these were going to make her soak her sweatpants, especially if he continued talking. “Woot is your island like back home?” he asked. “It’s a one bedroom apartment in uptown Minneapolis. It’s actually the upper floor of a house I’m renting. It’s about a 45

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hundred years old, a little drafty, but it’s the first place I’ve ever had to myself.” “Ye live alone then?” “I have six people living below me.” He offered a smile and steeped the tea, leaving her to watch him. It was perfect, she thought, as she watched him pour a mug of hot tea. What a fantastic story it would make when she got back home and told her girlfriends how this handsome, eccentric man took her back to his island home off the coast of Scotland and made love to her all night. She could leave out the near-drowning bit. They’d razz her endlessly if she said she was messing with a digital camera and fell into the water. Actually, they probably would have a difficult time believing she wasn’t on her cell phone or BlackBerry. “Walking fine, I see,” Birgir commented as she joined him at his crammed kitchen table. “Yeah, but I have a knot like this,” she said, making a fist to demonstrate, “on my hip.” “I never knew selkies could bruise.” “Apparently we do.” He grunted. “Are ye hungry?” He placed a ceramic jar of honey on the small, round wooden table and sweetened his tea. “A little, but I could wait,” Territory replied, slinking closer. Still dressed in sweats and a sweater, she wasn’t at her seductive best, but she had a feeling it wouldn’t take much. Her engine had already been revved and she had a feeling he 46

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wasn’t far behind. As he stirred his tea he looked her over, and Territory was slightly disappointed when he didn’t reply. He had flirted with her just a moment ago, hadn’t he? “Are ye traveling alone?” he asked as he seated himself in a chair and gestured for her to sit on his bed. “Yeah, I guess.” “Ye aren’t sure?” “I don’t consider it traveling alone,” Territory answered. She tucked her sore legs beneath her and grimaced. “I consider it an opportunity to meet different people.” With a grunt, he watched from the corner of his eye as she continued to rake her fingers through her hair. She lost hold of her sleeve when she set her empty mug on the bedside table and the dark blue fabric fell down to her slender wrist. “She does have hands,” Birgir said under his breath. “What did you say?” she asked, scrunching her nose. “I said ‘she does have hands,’” Birgir replied as he sat forward and nodded to her left hand still hidden in her sleeve. “Or at least one.” Shifting so that her feet were on the floor, Territory stuck out her right hand and showed him that the scrapes from her ordeal were virtually nonexistent. “May I?” he asked before touching her. She nodded and watched as he clasped her hand, the size of his fingers and the width of his hand easily swallowing hers up. Despite the rough pads, he ran his index finger over her knuckles and nodded in approval, the sweep of flesh against 47

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flesh stealing her breath. The fizzy warmth she’d first experienced bubbled to life, gave her that sunshine and warm summer day feeling all over again. “Fast healer,” he murmured. She flexed her hand, surprised when the pain vanished. “Yeah, I guess so.” “Good tae see ye still have your hands. I thought for a moment ye had stumps.” “My Grandmother Clara once made me a sweater with extra-long sleeves. I guess it’s just a bad habit.” Tucking her hair behind her ear, Teri’s eyes flashed to the fireplace where her clothes were drying. “That’s the sweater, actually. It’s in terrible condition but I love it.” Birgir grunted again, and when Teri turned she caught him staring at her face. His eyes instantly locked on hers. He didn’t say a word, but his finger still caressed the back of her hand. “What have you seen in Edinburgh?” he asked, his voice low and smooth. It took a moment for Territory to recover her senses, which were slowly dripping through her bloodstream and heading straight between her legs. Scratching her head, she shrugged and looked away, feeling her face flush. God, she wanted him touching her everywhere, not just her hand. “Touristy things.” “Like woot?” “Like, uh, Holyrood Abbey, which was cool” she stammered. “And Tron Kirk, which I think is a little bit overrated and commercialized. But hey, that’s why they call 48

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them tourist things, right? I should have been expecting it…” Her voice trailed off when she realized she was rambling. “You’re a local. What should I see?” With a shrug, Birgir leaned forward and ran his thumb up and down the length of her index finger, then her middle finger, then her ring finger. A shiver of pleasure chased the length of Teri’s spine as he caressed the tip of her thumb. “Depends on woot ye fancy,” he replied, his eyes fixed on her hand. “There are plenty of churches, shops, pubs…castles.” His gaze lifted and met hers. “Have ye noticed we have castles here?” Teri chuckled. “Only one or two.” Birgir grinned back and grasped her fingers. “There are probably more castles in Minnesota than here.” “Yeah, there’s one in the middle of every lake.” “Aye.” He nodded. “Thought so.” “Then you’ve heard of Minnesota.” “In another lifetime I may have been in Minnesota.” She looked him up and down. “As a Viking warrior?” “Not as a warrior. A shipbuilder.” He circled her knuckles with his thumbs. “Paying very close attention to every detail on her.” “Her?” “The ship. It’s always a she.” “Right.” Her voice threatened to disappear as she felt their bodies slowly leaning forward, drawn together. With her eyes still locked on Birgir’s blue-gray gaze, Territory sat forward until their knees touched. Her heart was 49

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pounding as she felt the moment slowly inch from casual conversation to something wordless and much more heated and primal. She wanted him closer, his arms around her, her fingers in his hair, his lips to hers. “I should get some extra blankets,” Birgir said. He cleared his throat and squeezed her knee gently, then immediately apologized. “I forgot about your bruises.” Teri rose with him. “It’s more my hip than anything,” she said, looking down. Her tangled hair fell over her shoulder, her lip catching a few strands. This was crazy. She was acting like she hadn’t got laid in six months, which may have been true, but she didn’t need to act like it. Birgir reached up and brushed Teri’s hair back from her face, his fingertips teasing the shell of her ear. His gentle action garnered her attention, and in one steady gaze, Teri knew he wanted her with greater urgency than his actions revealed. “I didna pull ye from the water expecting anything in return,” he murmured, caressing her earlobe. “I know. I wasn’t expecting anything either.” She sighed, her hands balling into fists around his shirt as she drew herself nearer. “But ye want it?” he asked, his lips against her ear. “Yes, I want it. I want you.” Immediately she smelled him, a mixture of seawater, sawdust, and his own masculine scent. Her breath hitched as Birgir’s soft lips pressed against hers, a slow, tender kiss that 50

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left her knees weak. She was surprised at how soft his goatee felt against her skin, his whiskers tickling her and piquing her senses until all she wanted to do was unravel in his arms. A little sigh escaped as Birgir grazed his thumb along her jaw from her earlobe to her chin. Lips parting slowly, Teri deepened the kiss and tasted him. Her hands explored his defined chest through his soft cotton shirt, fingers pressing to muscle. He had the body of a laborer, his arms strong, shoulders sinewy and chest rock hard, begging to be licked and kissed. “Say it again,” he said against her lips. “I want you,” she told him. Birgir kissed her hard, his breath hot against her face as her hands slipped under his shirt and touched the light dusting of hair along his midsection. His stomach tightened as her fingernails skimmed down to his belt. Pressing her torso to his, Teri moaned as Birgir’s long, thick fingers massaged the back of her skull. With no space left between them, she felt his cock pressed high against her belly, stiff and ready. Shifting her weight, she reached down and ran her hand up and down the front of his jeans, the wetness between her legs increasing when she realized his girth. She almost swore, but Birgir cradled her head, steadied her as his tongue explored her welcoming mouth. His kiss made her willingly surrender and his deft fingers sent her mind reeling one stroke at a time. Teri imagined what it would feel like to have those fingers stroking her between the legs, his tongue flicking her clit to 51

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life. Large, callused fingers accustomed to creating furniture would slide into her cunt and easily glide along her labia. Those hands that painted would send the lightest strokes across her shivering flesh, delving slowly into her wet pussy until she shook with desire. She desperately wanted Birgir to discover how wet he made her with just one kiss, how she wanted to feel his hands all over her body and his dick inside of her. “Tell ma tae stop now,” he growled against her throat as she knelt on his bed. His hand grabbed her ass, roughly pressing her further against the outline of his straining cock. “Or I won’t be able tae in a moment.” “I don’t want you to stop,” Teri breathed. He planted a lingering kiss full on her lips, their tongues barely touching. With both hands cupped around her face, he pulled back and searched her eyes as his thumb brushed over her kiss-swollen lower lip. His tenderness made her feel secure in his presence, his strong hands turning her joints to liquid. Territory looked into his light eyes fringed with long, dark lashes and felt something she’d never experienced with anyone else. It was because he had saved her, she told herself. That was why she felt as though he was her sanctuary. Brushing her hair over her shoulders, Birgir lay her down on his bed and knelt alongside her. Teri’s hands trembled with anticipation as she hastily unbuttoned his shirt and ran her thumb over an erect nipple. With her hands lost in his hair, she moaned to his soft 52

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kisses along her neck and shoulder. He kneaded her breast through her sweater, immediately finding her hardened nipple. He stole her breath again as he pulled her sweater up and allowed her to watch him tease her with the palm of his hand, circling her breast so that the heel of his hand dragged over the hardened peak. When her breaths turned to pants, he lowered his head and circled his tongue around her nipple, exploring her erect, pebbled flesh. He played with her, kissing and sucking, then gently biting her until she felt pleasure settle in her belly, begging to be released. She tangled her hands in his hair while he plucked at the tip of her breast, his body settled between her legs. She groaned, barely able to stand it a moment longer even though she wanted him to continue. He sucked her harder, his tongue flicking in quick rhythm as she lifted her hips, wanting to feel him inside of her while her womb started to contract. “Just like that,” she breathed, drawn closer and closer to orgasm. Birgir rolled one nipple between his thumb and forefinger as he sucked the other one, creating pleasure she hadn’t felt in a long time, pleasure she deserved to feel. Not enough men realized the sensitivity of a woman’s breasts, how sucking on her nipples only made her hotter for sex. She balled her hands into fists, afraid to lose the moment she wanted desperately to feel. Each stroke of his tongue encouraged her, and unable to contain herself, she felt her vagina contract, her body opening 53

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to him. Another harsh breath escaped past her lips, and Teri’s stomach tightened as he straddled her. His belt came loose in her grasp and she heard him sigh in anticipation as she struggled to remove his shirt. His necklace fell from his opened shirt and dropped onto her chest with a heavy thunk, the contrast of something cool against her warm flesh making her suck in a breath. “What’s this?” she asked as she ran her finger over the amulet. The leather was thinning where the bale rubbed against the string. Teri was careful not to pull on the silver piece, lest she destroy it. She studied it a moment and brushed her thumb over the green-blue stone with red veins threaded through it. She was about to ask him again, but Birgir stole another kiss. “Family heirloom. I’ve had it for as long as I can remember,” he answered. Territory helped him struggle out of his pants, her fingers groping along the definition of his trim hips while he pulled her sweater over her head. She shivered as the cool air hit her skin, but Birgir’s wide hands covered her sides and ribs, warming her inside and out. His eyes lingered on her stomach, and Teri inhaled when he drew a circle around the little silver ring piercing her navel. “You look as though you’ve never seen a belly button ring before,” she murmured as his finger traced around the braided silver. “I haven’t seen it on ye before.” His lips made a languid 54

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trail up her stomach and ribs, making her moan each time his goatee brushed her sensitive skin. He kissed her so tenderly along her breasts and neck that she wanted to weep. She felt like a goddess, honored, served and satisfied. “I need you,” she whispered when he looked into her eyes. Raising her head, she found his lips and pulled him close, her legs cradling his hips as he swept one arm beneath her body. The heat of him startled her, the weight of his body like a missing piece she’d craved. He lowered his hips against hers but didn’t enter her, and for one agonizing moment they remained tangled, tongues tasting, hands exploring. Birgir supported his weight on his knees and stroked between her thighs, groaning when he discovered how warm and wet she was and how she couldn’t stop herself from crying out when his finger slid into her. She shuddered in pleasure when he found her clit, hard and smooth and ready to react to each stroke. Teri spread her legs wider and reached for him, finding it impossible to fit her hand all the way around his erection when she stroked him. She’d never been with a guy this big before. In truth, she’d only thought sex toys came this thick and she’d been a little wary of them, preferring the more life-size toys to the super sized ones. But this was real, and she wanted him. He pinned her down with the weight of his body and tapped his fingers against her clit until she stifled a groan. Gently he cupped her pussy, rubbing against the wet heat of her body as she spread her legs wider, needing the pressure from his touch. 55

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He brought her to a mini-climax that left her panting but hardly sated. Seeing the gleam in his blue-gray eyes, she knew he wanted to hear her scream out. With a sly smile, she patted his chest. “Woot?” She kissed his chest, slowly moving down the length of his body with her tongue, lapping and sucking his nipples as she made her way to his stomach. His cock stood tall and thick against his belly, the large head resting just above his belly button, the foreskin rolled down to display the throbbing head. A large, ruddy sac begged to be kissed and touched, fondled as she sucked his cock. But she wanted to make him wait. She licked her way around his dick, hearing a breath hiss past his teeth as she explored his navel with her mouth and caressed his sac. It gave her a moment to study him and fully appreciate the exotic look of an uncircumcised man. She’d only seen one before, some kid in college that she’d given a hand job to at a party. It hadn’t impressed her nearly as much as Birgir did, and she couldn’t wait to have him in her mouth, feeling him with her tongue. He shuddered, his hand finding her shoulder. She wanted him to take the initiative, to command her with his palm to the back of her head. Even a gentle giant should have demanded a good blow job. “You want me to suck your dick?” she asked, gazing up the length of his body to meet his eye. He looked as though he couldn’t bear to utter a word, not 56

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even if his life depended on it. Just the way she wanted him, helpless and wanting her. “Tell me,” she said, running her tongue from his balls up to the damp head of his cock, following the prominent veins along the underside. “Aye,” he said, his voice strained. She smiled, feeling his hips rise as she lapped semen from the tip, tasting the bitter, salty flavor of his seed. She kept her gaze locked on his, watching the lust in his eyes and the way his nostrils flared. Slowly she took him into her mouth, her tongue sliding back and forth down the length of his cock. She fondled his balls, cradling the weight of his sac with her fingers. Every breath became a low, shuddered hiss of pleasure for him and complete empowerment for her. She ruled his flesh, every thick inch of him under her command until she brought him release. “Holy Christ,” he muttered as his penis disappeared into her mouth. She rolled her tongue along his cock, tasting the salt of him while she felt her way between his thighs and gently stroked behind his balls. His head rolled back, his testicles tight and ready to spill his seed in the back of her throat. She felt his muscles bunch, his body stiffen as she played with him, kissing and licking him up and down. She knew he was close, which made her horny as hell. Squeezing her thighs together didn’t do an ounce of good, and she kissed her way up his torso, leaving behind a damp trail on 57

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her way to his mouth. Birgir rolled onto his side and cupped her face, holding her steady as his tongue surged into her mouth. For one brief moment they lay tangled together, bare flesh against flesh, their words reduced to mutual groans of pleasure. “Here,” he murmured as he reached into the bedside table and handed her a condom. He shrugged out of his shirt, allowing her a lingering moment to study his well-muscled torso. “What happened?” she asked, her eyes drawn to a thin scar down the length of his abdomen. “Ma brother,” he answered. “Greatest swordsman under the age of eight.” Teri smiled and ripped open the foil packet. “Lie on your back,” she instructed. They changed places, Birgir running his hand up and down her spine as she rolled the condom down the length of his rock hard dick. “I want to be on top.” He partially sat up, his lips parting in surprise at her request while hunger filled his eyes. It surprised her as well, but she wanted control of the depth he penetrated her, not knowing if she could take all of him at once. Nodding in agreement, he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her deeply, carefully avoiding pressure to her hip. She giggled at his playful aggression and felt his hands run up and down her sides, tenderly grasping her as he eased back and watched her. Teri arched her back and felt him guide her onto his erection, allowing her to test him. Her chin touched her chest 58

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as she squatted over him, rubbing the head of his dick against her swollen labia. She groaned as the head of his cock slowly impaled her, opening her with each inch of him. His fingers tightened the hold on her sides, gently easing her down. She couldn’t contain herself and moaned loudly, surprising herself at how good he felt sinking into her, gliding deeper and deeper. Slowly she rose, pulling him out almost completely before she settled back down on his hips, feeling the stretch of her body accepting his. He gazed up at her and cupped her breasts, his hips lifting to meet hers with shallow thrusts that brought him deeper. She leaned forward, putting pressure on her clit, and rocked against him. While he watched her, she stroked his cheek and he turned his head, kissing and sucking on her index finger. It electrified her insides and she bore down harder than before, allowing him to fill her completely. Birgir ran his fingers down her stomach, tracing around her belly button to her soaking wet slit. Her gaze followed his hand and she watched, intrigued by the show. “I want tae feel ye come again,” he said. “Right now.” Teri bit her lip and nodded, wondering if he knew how close she was to another orgasm. She rode him harder, straining to keep her eyes open and watch as he fingered her clit, rubbing and circling the stiff little mound that had only been serviced by electronics lately. He abandoned her waist and grabbed her ass, making her groan louder than before. Her pace started to slow as pressure coiled in her belly, ready to explode at any moment, but he let 59

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her know immediately that he wasn’t done with her yet. He thrust hard from beneath her, sending waves of pleasure through her in hard, unexpected currents. She tried to brace herself and reached for the headboard, leaning over his outstretched body. Lifting to meet her, he caught her nipple between his teeth and unraveled her, consumed her with pleasure inside and out. She cried out, giving herself fully to him, wanting him to know exactly how he made her feel. His arms wrapped around her and he grunted, giving another hard, penetrating thrust that kept her unable to think or breathe. His breath turned ragged, his rock hard cock buried deep inside of her. He cursed softly and clung to her, cradled her in his arms as though he couldn’t bear to let go, not yet. Possibly not ever. She clung to him as well, unwilling to give up what she’d experienced. Greedily she ran her fingers down his spine and felt him do the same to her, touching and loving her well past their mutual satisfaction. He kissed her shoulder and panted, arms wrapped around her back, fingers tangled in her long hair. His heart hammered against his chest, a strong, steady rhythm that pounded as fast as the blood in her veins. With one more kiss full on the lips, he said everything Teri wanted to hear.

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CHAPTER 6 Craig Connor said good-bye to the other two bartenders on duty and grabbed his charcoal gray pea coat. He scanned the pub one last time for the cute American girl before giving up. The last he had seen her she had been staring at a map and muttering to herself, her finger tracing along the city grid. Damn it if Birgir wasn’t long gone for the day, always missing out on the action. His aloof customer would never have acted on it, but they could have exchanged eyebrow waggles and lewd, muttered comments all evening long. “Ye run into any trouble, ye give ma a nod,” Craig told her as he brought her a soda to replace the Tennent’s she hadn’t touched. 61

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“Thanks, I will,” she replied before an older man with a beard pointed to one of her brochures and gave her some advice. Craig was still thinking of the little blonde when he lit up and jogged across the street. He was halfway across when he heard someone behind him yell, “Bartender!” With a roll of his eyes, he turned to face a man with the visage of a skeleton, his dark eyes sunken into his head, his wide mouth pursed tightly shut. The part down the middle of his long, dark hair made his features look longer than they were and his thin nose looked as though it had been carved hastily onto his face. “I’m off duty,” he said. The man gave a twisted smile and held his coat closed with an unusually broad hand. “I don’t mean to bother you, sir, but I was wondering if you could help me.” Craig turned in the middle of the street to fully face the stranger. “With woot?” he asked with his cigarette dangling from his lips. “I’m looking for a man by the name of Birgir Thorsson,” the stranger said. He shoved his hands into his trench coat pockets and danced around in the cold. “I was told you might be able to help me.” “Sure, I ken him. Been ma best mate for a long time,” Craig answered. “And who would ye be?” The dark-haired man gave an easy smile, one that seemed to change the shape of his face from long and haggard to square and handsome. Craig rubbed his eyes, thinking his long 62

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night was becoming longer. He hated the weekends where he didn’t get out of work until four in the morning, but sometimes just a midweek schedule threatened to bury him. “We’re old chums. I think he’d be surprised to see me again, to say the least, and I’d love to see him again.” “Aye?” The man looked him over, a twinkle in his eyes and a smirk on his face. “Though I don’t mind seeing you right now either.” Craig shifted his weight. “Woot do ye want?” “That depends on what you’re offering. I’ve been known to be very greedy at times when it comes to men.” A driver honked his horn and sent Craig leaping out of the center of the street. He bumped the stranger in the shoulder and felt the man instantly wrap his arm around him. “Woot the hell are ye doing?” Craig demanded as he stormed across the street, his hands shoved in his pockets. From the corner of his eye he scanned the streets to make sure no one had seen, knowing his reputation at the bar with the female clientele was at stake every moment he was off the clock. Women tipped him well, and he couldn’t afford to lose his money or his flat to some guy on the street claiming to know Bir. “It’s cool, it’s cool. I forget sometimes that not everyone shares our interests.” “And woot bloody interests would those be, mate?” “Call me Billy.” Craig eyed him. He didn’t have to call him a damn thing. 63

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“Do I really need to explain, or would a moment of your time suffice?” His black eyes sparkled in the streetlights. “Trust me, I can make it worth it for you.” Once again Billy bumped up against Craig, this time allowing his hand to slide down Craig’s spine to his ass. The gentle caress threatened to stir him, send his cock rigid and straining against his jeans. “Great line,” he mumbled. “Give me something else to do with my mouth and I won’t have to use stupid lines, Craig.” Seduction and danger lurked in the man’s dark eyes, and Craig swallowed hard. He’d had an HIV scare a year ago, something stupid and completely preventable, which had made him swear off all one-night stands. They reached the other side of the street where Craig had parked his car just through the alley, which had become his shortcut. He braced himself, his heart hammering in his chest like a beast waiting to be unleashed, his dick growing hard as they approached a shroud of shadows. Nothing said danger quite like an alley where the rest of the world was just steps away. He’d given and received favors in alleys since he was a teenager, with both men and women. Billy gave him no time to think. They moved from meager street lamps to darkness and the stranger grabbed him by the shoulders, roughly pushing him against the brick wall. “I know what we both want,” Billy said. Craig shuddered, feeling strong, wide hands against his chest. He strained to see, but all he caught was the silhouette 64

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of the man unzipping him. He reached out, fingers sliding through a mess of thick hair as his jeans loosened around his hips and his cock sprang free, directly into the hands and mouth of the man kneeling before him. “Do you and my cousin do this?” “Cousin?” “Birgir Thorsson.” “Fuck no,” he answered, though he’d once imagined what it would be like to have Birgir to himself. He knew Birgir wasn’t gay. Sometimes he wondered if he was anything since all he ever did was stop in to eat and drink before he went back to work on his island. Billy took Craig into his mouth, sucking and pumping him furiously as though he couldn’t wait to drink his seed. People walked past the alley, women laughing, men calling each other names and arguing over the latest football game. The thrill of being caught undid him faster than he would have liked, and he reached down, bracing Billy’s head, forcing him to swallow. It took a moment for Craig to realize what had happened, how he’d considered saying no and walking away and then…he had no fucking idea what the hell had happened. Billy rose to his feet and straightened his shirt. “Be sure not to tell him I sucked you off in an alley.” “Trust ma, it won’t come up in conversation.” “Good, I’d like him to have a good impression of me. I’m the only family he has left.” 65

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*

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*

“I’ve got a carrot,” Birgir said as he bent and stared into his refrigerator. “And woot’s this? A potato. I reckon that’s a selkie stew recipe, don’t ye? Territory lay in bed with her hands behind her head and grinned, watching him hold up various fruits and vegetables. They had spent an hour lying in bed, her head resting on his muscular arm as they talked and kissed and laughed. Teri couldn’t remember anyone—man or woman, friend or family—who she’d felt so completely comfortable with at once. She remembered her grandfather once talking about being a war veteran and how close troops became when one man saved another man’s life. That’s all it is, she tried telling herself. I feel close to him because he saved me from drowning or freezing to death. “You need to go shopping,” Teri said as she investigated his walls. Despite all the canvases lying on the floor, there were only two paintings on the wall, both of Viking ships on the sea. Beside one was a thin metal cross, slightly crooked and terribly rusted. “I just did.” “Well, you need someone to go shopping with you if all you have in there is a carrot and a potato.” “Ye need to eat what I have,” Birgir replied over her shoulder. Teri snorted. “How long are you going to rip on me for being a vegetarian?” “As long as it takes until ye try ma beef stew.” He paused 66

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and glanced over his shoulder, seeing her frown. “Seriously, Selkie, I’ve got a carrot, a potato and some biscuits, but those are a few days old. I could make ye spaghetti, but I only have meat sauce.” “I’ll take a stale biscuit and a baked potato,” she said as she sat up and reached for her discarded sweater. “Ye sure?” “I’m sure.” “You’ll be starvin’ in five minutes.” He pulled several containers out of the refrigerator and set them on the counter. Together they ate crackers with peanut butter and baked potatoes, which Birgir told her was because he felt guilty eating beef stew in front of a vegetarian. Not exactly the ideal dinner, but she had no desire to complain. She found herself comfortable in his presence, both in and out of bed, and though she tried not to think about it, Teri thought it was a shame that after she left Scotland she’d never see this man again. “My whole family eats meat, and my ex-boyfriend used to order veal and lamb because he knew how I felt about it.” Birgir raised an eyebrow. “A respectable gentleman.” “Hence, ex-boyfriend.” “Your family treats ye better, don’t they?” “Yeah, it was a little weird at first because they convinced themselves I’d starve without eating dead animals, but they got over it. And obviously I’m not starving.” “Not yet. But I’m watching you, Selkie, be sure of that.” Teri nibbled a cracker and wondered if anyone in her 67

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family had attempted to contact her. She was never without her phone and she didn’t travel without her laptop, which made it all the more ironic that a digital camera had been her bane. When she thought about it, she suddenly noticed Birgir didn’t have a regular phone let alone a cell phone. Or a computer. She took a drink from her bottle of water and changed the subject, deciding that fling or not, he didn’t need to know about her dating past or her crazy family. Talk about her overly protective brother, her worrisome father, her stellar cast of aunts and uncles, and he’d be rowing her back to the mainland before she finished eating. “Did you carve the pictures on the mantel?” He followed her gaze to the other side of the room and nodded. “Aye, took ma several years and quite a bit of ma own blood tae complete it.” “I’ve never seen anything so detailed carved into a mantel before.” Birgir shrugged and continued eating with his head modestly lowered. “It could have been better.” “It’s amazing. How can you say that?” “Because it’s mine.” Teri reached out and placed her hand over his. “I’m serious. Do the pictures have special meanings?” He shrugged again. “Tae ma.” “And you’re not going to tell me, are you?” He grinned as he lifted his mug of hot tea to his lips. “I wasn’t intendin’ tae, no.” 68

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“Why not?” “Why would I?” “Because it’s intricate and begs to be explained.” “Does it?” “I took two years of psychology. Don’t answer me with questions.” Birgir studied her face as though he were contemplating what he should tell and what should be left secret. He rapped his knuckles on the table top and sighed, turning into a shy, elusive craftsman who didn’t want to brag about his talent. “Woot do ye want tae ken?” “Did you do it all yourself?” “Aye.” “Then I want to know everything.” His brow furrowed and he took another sip of his tea. She held his gaze, unwilling to abandon her romantic fantasy. What a great story he made, the quiet, bear of an artist sharing his home and his work with her, showing her what he could do with his hands both to nature and to her. “We can sit here as long as you like,” she said. Scooting his chair back, he nodded and took her hand. “Come on, Selkie.” She clasped her hands and gave a triumphant grin as he stood and helped her to her feet. The moment she stood he placed his hand at the small of her back and smiled down at her, at last appearing comfortable. Territory looked into his eyes and smiled back faintly, her heart tugging her along. Every minute of him would be a story worth retelling, but she 69

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didn’t want it to end. She wanted another chapter of him, another juicy moment of having him all to herself. The smile on her lips faded, and she knew she was going to have a hell of a time leaving him when the time came to say good-bye. *

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Women from the Edinburgh pubs were rarely willing to get into a boat and row to an island for sex. They were even less willing to make the excursion in order to see half-finished oil paintings and wood carvings, so when Territory seemed interested in hearing about the mantel, Birgir felt a surge of excitement and overwhelming dread. Eight years of work would at last find an audience. Albeit one, but it was enough…or perhaps too much. “Woot do ye ken aboot Norsemen?” Birgir asked as Teri leaned forward and studied the carving closest to the top of a man with a lightning bolt for a walking stick as he strolled through a meadow. There were trees ahead of him, and through the intricate details of leaves and brush Teri found wicked eyes and a thin, clawed hand wrapped around a slender tree. Territory gave a crooked smile. “I’m from Minnesota. I know a little. Do the people have names?” “That’s the god Thor.” “You have a lot of depictions of him.” “Aye, he’s important.” “I see that.” She followed along, searching each detail. 70

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“Who’s this with all the horses?” Birgir rolled his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “Ma brother Erik. He and his wife own a ranch in Texas.” “You must not like his wife much,” she commented. “Why would ye say that?” Teri pointed at the carving beside the one of Erik. “Isn’t she the snake?” “She studied them in South America. Whenever I think of snakes I think of Storm.” “That’s cute.” Before she asked, he pointed to the biggest carving on the left side of the mantle. “Ma sister Ava. She demanded big when she last saw ma. I think it’ll do for her ego.” “What does she do?” “The better question is woot doesn’t she do.” “Are you the youngest?” “Aye, the wee lad in the family.” Territory turned and looked at him curiously. “Did you use people in your family for inspiration?” Birgir nodded once before explaining how he made other mantels, which he sold in his studio just off the Royal Mile. He commissioned his work to people all over the world and made all sorts of carvings from saints to naked women to beloved hunting dogs. Whatever they paid him to do, he did, normally in less than three months. “So let me get this straight. You do most of your work here, then haul mantels onto a boat your friend Craig’s cousin owns, and take them back to Edinburgh? Even when you’ve 71

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had a studio there for the past six years?” Territory asked, arching a brow. “Aye, a whole fifteen minutes across the water and another fifteen tae Edinburgh. Takes up most of ma day,” he answered as he scratched the back of his head. His grin widened. “Woot do ye do when you’re not floatin’ around Mortimer’s Deep?” “I majored in computer technology, but I mostly work for my dad, which isn’t nearly as glamorous as it sounds.” “Woot’s your father do?” “He plays with antique and muscle cars, and I help him and my brother sell or trade cars and parts online and over the phone. I’m pretty much their receptionist and bookkeeper. And I look better in a skirt than they do, so I’m also on my dad’s commercials.” He nodded. “Famous, Selkie.” “Not quite, though I get recognized at Wilde Roast every time I’m in there,” she said, holding back a yawn. “Woot’s that?” “A gay coffee house in uptown.” “You are truly a woman of mystery.” She chuckled. “I’m hoping to do something a little more big business when I return home. Getting recognized by gay men really doesn’t pay at all, aside from the occasional cup of coffee, which I could use right now.” Birgir nodded and walked to his bed where there was an old trunk. “Let ma grab some extra blankets for ye. I’ll take the floor if ye want,” he said, attempting to be chivalrous and respectful. He wasn’t sure if there was a protocol for things 72

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like this, but he thought it best not to seem presumptuous. Teri shook her head. “I don’t mind sharing if you don’t mind.”

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CHAPTER 7 Teri was almost asleep in Birgir’s warm, cozy bed when she felt the cool whoosh of blankets being drawn back. She opened her eyes when he sat beside her and drew his shirt over his head. “Those pants are a hideous shade of green,” she murmured, scooting over. “Aye, and warm tae boot.” He settled in beside her, a warm, hard body that smelled like toothpaste and sea salt, which made Teri grin. Extending her hand, she ran her fingertips down his spine. Birgir arched his back when her touch skimmed past the small of his back where Teri felt a thin ridge. 74

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She lifted her head as Birgir turned off the light and she caught a glimpse of a scar before the room went dark. The jagged, puckered mark ran diagonally across his spine and disappeared beneath his waistband and out of sight. He lay down beside her, taking her hand, which was still on his side, and brought it up to his chest. “Did you have surgery when you were little?” she asked as she snuggled in close. Birgir grunted, and Territory felt his hot breaths on the back of her hand. “No, why?” “Isn’t that a scar on your back?” He turned and Teri saw his blue eyes studying her face in the dark. “Parochial school,” he said as he lay on his side and put his arm around her. “Didna quite agree with ma.” “How long were you there?” she said, giggling to herself. “Woot’s sae funny?” “I make it sound like prison.” “You’ll get no argument from ma. I was there for three years and in the custody of the state for ten. They locked the doors tae keep ma there, but I opened the window and left.” “You’re kidding.” “No. Hated every minute of it and I think it hated ma as well.” “So you have a scar on your back from going to Catholic school.” He nodded. “Ruler from Father McCleary.” “Your parents should have sued.” He hesitated a moment, his lips parted as though he were 75

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about to make a joke and pass it off as nothing, though she saw the hurt in his eyes. There was a lot more to the story, she guessed, but he only shrugged. “Did ye go tae Catholic prison as well, Selkie?” Teri smiled. “I was home schooled from preschool through fifth grade. My mom was the suburban anti-Christ,” she said, her fingers gently running through Birgir’s chest hair. “She was the pagan among room moms and Girl Scout leaders. I hated having her pick me up when I was younger, and then…I don’t know. I turned thirteen, I was looking to be myself and I felt like I understood her or something. She was a lot cooler than I thought and then…I didn’t have time to appreciate her.” Running his finger along her lower lip, he asked, “Woot happened tae her?” Teri felt her throat tighten. She didn’t make it a habit of telling people about her mom’s death because it made her weepy and weak. “Car accident. A guy fell asleep at the wheel after a double. He walked away from the scene, but my mom died in the car before they could get her out. They said she hemorrhaged and that was it, nothing they could do.” “How old were ye?” “Thirteen.” “I’m sorry.” “Are your parents nearby?” “I’ve never seen them before.” “Did they both die?” “My mother died when I was a wee baby. I’ve never seen ma father before.” 76

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“At least you were with your brother and sister, right?” “Until I left, aye. Then I traveled here and ma brother went tae Texas. Ava’s in Australia as far as I ken.” “You’re not close to them?” “The world is a very big place, Selkie.” “You could call, email them, send a text message—” “I have,” he answered, his voice giving her an indication he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. They lay together in the dark, arms wrapped around one another and the heady smell of peat scenting the air, covering the lingering wood smoke. Teri closed her eyes, held between dreams and reality as Birgir ran his fingers along her scalp. Turning her face, she kissed his wrist, her pulse racing as his gentle, lulling touch turned into a slow, rolling boil of passion. Eyes closed, she groaned softly as his rough hand touched her cheek. He allowed her to suck on his fingertip, his breaths coming faster, his free hand pressed firmly to the small of her back. When she could no longer stand it, Teri struggled out of her sweatpants as Birgir caught her lips against his and plunged his tongue into her mouth. “I want ye more than I’ve wanted anyone, Selkie,” he said, his voice a deep growl in her ear. A moan escaped past her lips as he rolled on top of her, lips trailing kisses down her neck. He lifted her shirt and kissed her breasts, his tongue gently flicking along her skin, his teeth grazing her hardened nipples. Teri gasped when she felt his lips slip past her navel, past 77

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the curve of her stomach leading between her legs. She hesitated a moment, unsure of whether or not she wanted something so intimate. Sensing her hesitation, Birgir ran his thumb along her swollen flesh, teasing her with the promise of relief. “It’s ma turn tae play with ye,” he said. Her mind was made up for her the moment Birgir kissed the inside of her thigh and sent a wave of undeniable pleasure surging through her nerves. With a gentle push he parted her thighs and nuzzled her, planting soft, heated kisses, each one harder and more urgent than the last. “You’re so smooth,” he murmured as his finger ran along her slit, petting her as though he could draw out the torture all night long and enjoy every moment of it. His tongue parted her, split her open softly, gently as though he needed to ease her with the shape of his body. Eyes closed, she tossed her head back and forth, tormented by the feel of his breath between her open legs, the soft hair on his chin brushing against her and his softer, satiny lips planting wet kisses along her tender flesh. “I love the way ye smell tae ma, Selkie,” he said. His voice vibrated through her and she cried out, her hips lifting off the bed as his tongue circled around her throbbing clit, testing her reaction. Her hands balled into fists around the sheets, forehead beaded with sweat as he drew her stiff, aching clit between his lips and flicked his tongue faster. “Ye like that?” She nodded and groaned. 78

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“Tell ma.” “Y-yes,” she panted. “Ye want more?” Suddenly she realized what he was doing, how he wanted to dominate her the same way she’d controlled him. Her gentle giant wanted to turn her into a begging pet, and she found herself craving his total control. “I want more,” she said, trying to steady her breath. Birgir teased her with his fingers, stroking her, smooth, slick outside and tempting her with shallow, slow penetration, his curved fingers filling her tight cunt. He explored her with his mouth, blowing warm air against her flesh that heated her inside and out. “Open your legs,” he ordered, his weight shifting. Metal clashed against metal, a belt buckle or some other small object that only half caught her attention. She belonged to him now and did as he told her, an obedient, greedy little pet. Immediately he began licking and sucking on her enlarged clitoris, holding her, paralyzing her with needed relief. His tongue replaced his fingers, thrusting into her with long, steady strokes. She reached down and ran her fingers along his scalp, following his movements, losing herself to pleasure. His hand cupped her ass as she lifted off the bed and helped him fuck her with his mouth. Just when she thought she couldn’t tolerate more, he massaged between her cheeks, the rough pads of his fingers gentle but insistent. She knew what he wanted, what she wanted. A few guys 79

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had tried to craftily work anal sex into their relationship, but she didn’t do that. No. Nuh-uh. Never. But no guy had ever buried his face between her legs, groaning as he lapped moisture from her pussy and made her into a sexual goddess. Her body tensed despite her need. Birgir gently petted her, eased her with loving, reassuring caresses. She parted her lips and breathed through her mouth, each soft groan opening her further. He circled around her clenched sphincter, the new sensation curling her toes. Damn, it felt good. Forbidden, yet good, better than she’d ever expected. Back and forth he played with her, massaging his way into her while he continued pumping his tongue into her pussy. She knew she soaked the mattress, scented the air and his breath with her arousal. “Please,” she panted, feeling herself scoot down the bed to feel more of him. He inserted his finger into her ass, a tight, perfect fit that made her sigh in total pleasure. She felt herself relax, accepting the slow, easy thrust and release, the sensation of being filled completely. Her hips moved with him, allowing him greater penetration. “I want tae see ye,” he said, lifting his head. Her eyes slit open and she caught a glimpse of something silver in his hand. Before she could ask, she heard the buzz of her vibrator, then the sensation of it against her soaking lips. He removed his finger and focused solely on her drenched pussy, the vibe replacing his lips and tongue. He knelt over her, watching as she writhed, her legs trembling as she urged 80

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him closer and closer to her clitoris. Teri clawed at him, wanting to feel his prick inside of her, filling her rather than leaving her empty. Her hands clenched and unclenched, eyes closed as he ran her toy back and forth, gliding it along her sensitive lips and circling it around her waiting, aching clit. Suddenly she reached for his hand and showed him what she wanted, running the rounded tip over her clit in quick, sharp movements. He did exactly as she wanted and spoke to her, his tone hoarse and commanding. “Come for ma, Selkie. I want tae see ye. Now.” With a scream she could barely contain, her walls contracted, though she had nothing to hold inside. Her body shuddered with pleasure and stars appeared behind her closed eyes. She felt a surge, complete overdrive of her senses, that left her whimpering and limp to his touch. Arousal flooded from her, soaking the sheets and Birgir’s fingers that still caressed her, allowing her a moment of rest. When her breathing steadied, he turned off her toy and kissed her shuddering body again, mindful of her sensitivity. He nuzzled her, lapping at the moisture between her thighs. “I want to touch you,” Territory managed to speak over the growing urgency building once again. Birgir chuckled against her thigh, his goatee rough against her smooth flesh. “There’s no one nearby.” “Yeah?” “I want to hear you,” he murmured, tongue flicking against her engorged clit as though he couldn’t wait to see her climax 81

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again. Territory’s eyes squeezed shut. “You want me to scream?” He gave an “mmhmm,” that vibrated pleasure into her nerves. He was going to make her scream, she knew. He was going to leave her bone-weary in bed, begging to feel his thick cock between her legs and his hands all over her ass. But she wasn’t the only one who was going to be begging. With a smile she shifted in bed until her head rested beside his knees, her every intention set on making him writhe with pleasure for as long as possible. “Selkie,” he whispered, shifting so that he could kiss the inside of her leg, his fingers once again teasing her as she aroused him further. She offered no answer and ran her thumb over the head of his cock, feeling it stiffen in her grasp. Spreading her hand, she rubbed her palm over the tip in wide, circular motions. He exhaled hard, his hands gripping her thighs in response though otherwise he remained still, enjoying the sensation. Slowly she nudged his legs apart and rubbed her thumb lightly over his ruddy sac, stroking the soft, thick covering of hair that cushioned his testicles and penis. Just as he’d done with her, she massaged her way back, exploring his puckered flesh as she listened for his permission. His breathing turned harsh, a growl of breath that told her he wanted to feel her stroking his ass. Reaching between her own legs, she coated her fingers with her moisture, making sure she was slick for him before she played with him. 82

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He groaned between her legs, offering little swipes of his tongue and gentle, languid kisses, just enough to keep her heated as she took her time with him. Bending her fingers just slightly, she found the hardened bulge of his prostate. His cock twitched against her lips and she flicked her tongue along the ridge until he muttered curses. “Selkie,” he said again, his breaths unsteady. “I’m not the only one who’s going to be screaming.” Birgir chuckled to himself and kneaded her breasts, his lips kissing the apex of her thighs until she couldn’t bear to be without him a moment longer. She squirmed, but he held her by the hips and sucked on her clit, the hard and unexpected attention catching her by surprise. Teri groaned, unable to stop the burgeoning pleasure filling her insides. The sensations rendered her senseless, leaving her crying out with each little earthquake that curled her toes and made her head fall back. “Oh, my God,” she said, unable to believe he’d done it to her again. She couldn’t even keep track of how many times he’d brought her to orgasm. Caught in ecstasy, she didn’t realize he’d shifted positions and had started to crawl up her body, his thumbs flicking against her nipples, his legs nudging her thighs apart. He’d given her more than she thought possible and he still wanted her to feel more. Any moment now she would spontaneously combust in his arms. “I’m not done with ye,” he assured her, brushing her hair from her eyes. 83

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His kisses were fierce, claiming her as his own if only for the night. Each thrust of his tongue made Teri acutely aware of how much he needed to satisfy himself, to bury his thick, hard cock deep inside of her. Thighs parting, she grabbed his hard, round ass and urged him to fill her. He’d barely unrolled the condom when she reached for him and lifted her hips. Even though she had felt him inside of her already, it still came as a delicious shock when he slid into her again, this time from a different position. A ragged sigh left his lips as he kissed her forehead, his hips grinding slowly against hers. He was trying to hold back and make love to her, but Teri didn’t want slowly. She just wanted him, as fast and as hard as possible, filling her, pounding her without stopping until he was satisfied. And she told him, somehow finding her voice. Hands tangled in his hair, she pressed her lips to his ear and told him exactly what she wanted him to do. “Make me scream,” she hissed as he pumped her. ”I want all of you, Birgir, don’t hold back on me.” Birgir responded with a growl as her fingers pressing into the long, corded muscles of his back. He pulled her close and used his weight to entice her throbbing clit, pleasuring her with long, steady strokes. When he discovered how she reacted to him pulling out completely and entering her again, he teased her, allowing his dick to slide in and out, then angling himself so that he rubbed against her clit before penetrating her again all the way to the hilt. Another climax came moments before she felt his entire 84

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body tense. Legs in the air, she closed her eyes and held her breath, knowing that the buildup of overwhelming pleasure was about to shatter within her. Each stroke was deeper, and as she tilted her hips upward Birgir stroked against her, finding a sensitive spot no man had ever discovered. “Harder,” she begged, clutching him, bringing him deeper. “Scream for ma,” he told her, the bed rattling beneath them. She did scream, just as he wanted. A scream of pleasure she knew she’d never experience again in her life. Arms wrapped around his torso, she buried her face in his massive shoulder and held him tight, wanting to memorize the way he felt inside of her, the way his arms felt around her and the way his chest heaved in satisfied exhaustion as he lay atop her. She wanted to remember the way he smelled when her body aroused him, the way his kisses felt warm and lazy against her neck and hair. And those hands, callused and strong but able to lay the softest caress where she needed it most. After a while he caught his breath and kissed her forehead softly. He rolled onto his side and took her with him, pulling her in close so that she was warm and comfortable at his side, able to feel his heartbeat and soft, even breaths. Squeezing her close to his body, Birgir found her eyes in the darkness and ran his fingers along her cheek. “Goodnight, Selkie,” he whispered. Teri merely smiled and rested her head on his chest, snuggling in close until she could hear the rhythm of his heart, a lullaby only played for her. She closed her eyes and listened 85

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to him breath. It was all she could do to keep from saying, “I love you.”

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CHAPTER 8 Birgir slipped out of bed and decided to take a shower before Teri woke. She murmured in her sleep when he pulled his hand from beneath her body, but he shushed her and she fell asleep again, rolling onto her stomach with her hair draped over her face. She smiled in her sleep as he smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead. “Where are you going?” she murmured. “Shower,” he whispered. He couldn’t resist caressing her shoulders and spine before he pulled up the covers and left her to sleep. The fire had gone down during the night, so he added more wood pellets to the hearth. The pellets burned longer and 87

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didn’t produce as much smoke, which he liked because it was more eco-friendly—which his sister Ava told him was a good thing. Once his hands were warmed from the fire, he pulled the leather cord over his head as he always did and examined the worn string that had always held his pendant. He ran his thumb over the weakened leather and frowned before he left his amulet on a bench beside Teri’s shoes. If he didn’t lace another strand of leather through it soon, he’d lose the silver hammer, the last, small trinket between himself and the past he didn’t remember. A shudder rattled through him once he removed the jewelry. He knew it was from his parents, despite the nuns telling him that it was an evil pagan symbol. He’d worn it proudly each day of his life, ignoring the stern lectures and the occasional thwack of a ruler across his knuckles. Even the thin scar on his back—the result of a paddle breaking and lacerating his skin—was worth keeping the silver pendant. He would do anything to preserve the memories of the people he loved, even if they weren’t his own memories. With a frown he ran his fingers along the mantel and studied the images, wondering if he’d ever see Erik and Ava again. He missed Erik the most, longing for the days when they could sneak off together to the river and go fishing with poles they’d made themselves. If only for an hour, he enjoyed the company of having his brother around, no matter if they spoke or not. Bittersweet memories returned as his gaze darted from one 88

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image to the next. He wasn’t an outsider in his family, but Birgir had always been the loner. He’d grown up tall too fast, and his size made him an easy target. He’d been hit with rocks at the children’s home as he walked from his studies, his head down to the crowd, always acting as though he didn’t feel pain and didn’t hear their words. Few said anything to him aside from his brother and sister and the occasional boy who also found himself an outcast for whatever cruel childhood reason. For the most part he’d chosen being alone because it was easier than facing bullies. “May the Aesir in Asgard be with you, Brother,” he whispered tapping the snake with his fingers. Storm would probably yell at him the next time he called and complained about how he didn’t keep in contact enough. “And may it protect ye from your wife as well.” Hearing Territory rustling in the blankets, Birgir returned his attention to her. She yawned as she turned over in bed and rubbed her eyes. A slight smile played at the corner of her lips as she sat up and swung her legs over the edge. She arched her back like a cat before cocking her head to the side and grinning. “Ye look mighty suspicious tae ma, Selkie.” She blinked innocently before she laughed to herself. “I was just wondering if there was hot water left.” “You go first. I’ll make ye beans and toast for breakfast.” She rose from bed wearing his sweater, which was long enough to just cover her thighs. Watching her pad across the floor was a form of torture, as Birgir couldn’t stop himself 89

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from thinking about their night together. He loved everything about her, from the way her skin felt buttery smooth to the way she responded to his touch. Territory came up behind him and snaked her arm around his waist. “Whatcha doing?” “Thinking.” She plucked his amulet from the bench and looked it over, her gaze switching back and forth from the carvings to the object in her hand. “You gave them all one?” she questioned. Birgir nodded. “We all have them.” “That’s an interesting tradition.” He grunted and put his arm around her, rubbing her lower back. “My father gave them to us when we were born as a sign of protection. I’ve nivver been without it.” “What did he want to protect you from?” Birgir went silent for a long moment as he rested his chin on the top of Teri’s head. “He never said, and as far as I know Erik and Ava don’t ken either.” He stared at the images that had taken him hours to create. “I miss them. We’ve been separated for a long time.” “You should take some time away and visit them,” she suggested. He grunted but didn’t give her anything more. “The loo is all yours,” he whispered in her hair. “Come with me,” she murmured against his chest. “You’re a hard woman to keep satisfied,” he replied, 90

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grasping her hand. Walking away, Teri shot him a seductive smile, her eyes half-open. “I wasn’t talking about you satisfying me.” *

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It was late morning when Territory and Birgir left his island home. Dressed in his bear cloak over trousers and a mock turtleneck, Birgir looked ruggedly handsome navigating the rocky shoreline, like some sort of sailor fantasy she’d never imagined having. He kept his hair tied back, and as he walked through the dense fog, she followed, mesmerized by his presence. There was something tantalizing about a man who looked so fierce but treated her with tenderness and chivalrous respect. Men like him were the remnants of a bygone era, more myth than fact. “There really isn’t anything around you, is there?” she asked as she scanned the choppy water. “Water and seals.” Watching Birgir work sent a tingle up Teri’s spine as she thought about running her soap-slick hands up and down his chest, her mouth around his hardened shaft. Remembering how the steaming water cascaded down his muscular frame made her want him again. He’d pulled her up to his lips moments after he climaxed, and as his tongue pushed past her lips he groaned against her mouth. “Watch your step.” 91

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Startled from her daydream, Teri smiled as she negotiated her way along the damp rocks. Her clothes weren’t completely dry, but at least they fit her shape. “You have all this to yourself?” she asked as she stood beside the rowboat. The larger vessel he had used to save her was docked within view, the helm bearing a figure of a topless maiden holding a shield. She stared at it, feeling as though someone were watching her even though there were no boats in sight. Her skin still prickled, her heart beating a little faster than usual. “Aye.” Birgir pushed his boat into the sea and reached for her hand, his grasp pulling her out of her fear. “Come on, Selkie, I thought ye were hungry.” “You’re the one who’s hungry. I need to get to my hotel before I sit down to eat or I’ll clear the restaurant.” She wrinkled her nose. ”My clothes smell like Scottish water and I need to check my messages.” “Scottish water?” he questioned. “Yeah, like the sea.” He grinned in return. “Around here, Selkie, Scottish water is whiskey.” Teri cocked her head to the side, her mouth watering for a taste. “I could use some real Scottish water.” “It’ll put hair on your chest.” “Just what I needed.” Birgir helped her into the boat and draped his cloak around her, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze. She squirmed a little once it rested on her shoulders, and he gave her a 92

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questioning look. “I’m not one for fur,” she said before he asked. He nodded as he rowed them toward the pier. “It’s not what ye think.” Teri’s eyes narrowed. “What’s not what I think?” Birgir said no more. He glanced at her before committing himself to rowing, and Teri decided not to question him further. His eyes were plagued with sorrow, his lips drawn tight as he kept his gaze on a distant point. “How come you don’t get cold?” Teri asked suddenly. Birgir rested a moment and tapped his fingers on his chest. “Fire…I’ve a heart of fire.” “Who told you that? Your brother?” He hesitated and Teri saw his troubled blue eyes silently debating something. She wondered if she’d said the wrong thing to him, if she’d opened an old wound. They rocked back and forth in the boat, the oars bobbing as he sat and stared past her. “What is it, Birgir?” “You’re carved within me,” he mumbled before he pushed them further toward the shoreline.

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CHAPTER 9 Craig was walking to work in the middle of the afternoon when he passed the Scotsman Hotel and saw Birgir sitting at a brasserie table in the corner. There was no mistaking someone of Birgir’s height and girth, especially when he insisted on wearing a fur cloak like some barbarian reenactor. “Woot the bloody hell is this?” Craig said as he punched Birgir in the arm and straddled a chair. “Living like a king on dry land now, are ye?” Birgir glanced around. “We were just on our way to see ye down at the pub.” “We? Ye and the puffins again?” “Oh, aye, ma and the puffins,” he answered sardonically, 94

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nodding toward the back of the brasserie where Teri had just walked out of the loo. Her long skirt flowed around her, turning heads, and a coral-colored twin set, tight enough to show off the size of her perky breasts, left every man in the dining area staring at her. She wore her hair tied back, and Craig’s gaze was drawn to her shiny, full lips. “None of the pretty ones have taste, do they?” Craig said as he rose alongside Birgir and waited for his friend to introduce him. “You’re interested in women again, are ye?” “This one at least. Is it too late tae change her mind? I did see her first,” he said as she approached. Birgir pointed his thumb at Craig. “Ye know him, Selkie?” She furrowed her brow. “I don’t think I do.” “I’m Craig. Ye dannae care for Tennent’s.” Recognition registered on Teri’s face the moment he elaborated, but she smiled and shook his hand, saying nothing of how he had practically fallen over himself to hit on her the previous afternoon. If nothing else, he made a good show of pretending to be straight and women always seemed to fall for it. “This is your selkie, eh? I hope your selkie doesn’t have an older brother.” “I have a younger brother,” Teri answered. “But he’s home with my dad.” Craig winked at her and turned back to Birgir. “There’s someone looking for ye, Bir. Dark-haired fellow named Billy or something. He says he’s family.” 95

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“Ma brother’s name is Erik. Ye ken that, no?” “Aye, but he said he’s family. I didna question him, Bir. Caught ma coming out of the pub and asked ma tae tell ye, so I’m telling ye.” He straightened, recalling the rest of their encounter, how an alluring rendezvous had left him feeling disgusted. “Is he from St. Vincent?” “Why in the hell are ye asking ma?” “Because ye saw him, ye bugger head.” “Aye, that I did. Didna ken I was your PR now.” He nudged Bir in the shoulder and saw the pretty young lass shake her head. “Ye pay shite.” Birgir eyes narrowed but he nodded. “Did he say how tae contact him?” “He said he’d find ye.” Craig shrugged. Looking toward the window, Birgir nodded. “We’ll be off to the pub in a wee bit. I promised Teri I’d show her the rest of my woodwork.” Birgir shot Craig a warning look when Craig snickered. “If ye see him again, tell him where he can find ma.” Craig punched Birgir again before shaking Teri’s hand. “Don’t fall for any of his lines, lass,” he teased. He pulled Birgir in before he jogged off to work and whispered. “Whoever he is, I didna trust him when we parted ways. Watch yourself, Bir.” *

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Day turned to dusk by the time Birgir and Territory made 96

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their way from North Bridge back to the Royal Mile. They cut across to a winding street not far from St. Giles Cathedral and ducked into a little storefront with wide windows and a narrow front door painted bright red. Her feet were killing her, and she sighed in relief as he ushered her into his storefront and told her to put on the tennis shoes she’d lugged around in her backpack all day long. Valhalla Furnishings looked exactly like she expected. Birgir had crowded every inch of flooring with richly designed chairs, tables, hutches, and mantels. There were carved and painted likenesses of people and animals displayed along the exposed brick walls, all of them staring down at her with their blank eyes. Once again she felt as though something or someone watched her, though she knew it wasn’t the artwork. While Birgir turned on lights and gathered paperwork into piles, she gazed around the store, half expecting to find a prowler escaping out the back door. Lack of sleep thanks to mind blowing sex had apparently made her paranoid and she shrugged off the feeling. It wasn’t like anyone was going to get through Birgir and kidnap her. “Amazing,” Teri said to herself, her mouth agape as she wandered through the storefront while Birgir walked into the back to turn up the heat. He left her with his cloak, which she draped over a chair. “What’s Valhalla again?” “The hall where great warriors rest and battle one another when they die,” he called out from the back. “And watch your step. It’s a wee bit crowded.” 97

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“A wee bit?” she muttered. “Okay, and Valhalla comes from what? Norse mythology, right?” “No, Selkie, that’s the honest to gods’ truth.” He appeared a few moments later with a small cardboard box, which he placed on a finished table for her and stepped back, a crooked smile on his face. “What’s this?” “Woot’s the fun in giving someone a box if you’re just going tae tell them woot’s in it?” She chuckled and opened the top, peering inside to find a wooden seal with the head of a woman. She turned it over in her hand, admiring the details on the small figurine. “Artistic interpretation,” he said as she turned it over in the palm of her hand. “It’s for ye…if ye have room in your luggage.” Teri scrunched her nose. “I don’t know if I can squeeze it in there,” she teased before she stood on the tips of her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’re too sweet.” With a shrug, he tossed the box under the table, which made her frown. “You’re one of those people who can just throw things anywhere and find them again, no problem.” “Aye. Come on.” “Where are we going now?” “I want tae show ye the rest of ma work before it’s shipped.” *

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From across the narrow street Alaric watched his long-lost cousin open the door and enter a little storefront lost among the crowded shops. A grim smile crossed his lips, satisfaction coming in his find. The man he’d been sent to kill was preoccupied, too preoccupied with fucking a woman to realize the danger. “Do you remember me, cousin? Wilson Alaric Howard. What a wonderful, everyday sort of name, wasn’t it? Perfect for the children’s home. I do hope you remember me after all these long years. If not by name, perhaps by how I taunted you.” With darkness as his cloak, he brazenly crossed the street and watched through the window as the woman at Birgir’s side browsed the shop, her long, slender fingers running over polished high back chairs and soft velvet cushions. Birgir handed her his bearskin, which made Alaric raise a brow. He still recalled the day when he’d slunk through the woods in pursuit of his loner cousin, disobeying the nuns who wanted to keep everyone herded together. The giddiness in his belly reemerged as he thought of how he’d found Birgir wandering deeper and deeper into the old woods surrounding the fifty acre grounds. The good sisters warned of coyotes and bears that would drag off children and eat them alive, but Birgir only shook his head. In secret he walked the old forests, his footfalls silent for such a giant, and sought out the very beasts they said would kill him. He’d sit for hours and watch bears forage for their meals, having no fear toward any beast. 99

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It seemed manchild and creature were equally dumb, and now that the bears had been finished off, it was only a matter of time before the man followed. He closed his eyes and inhaled, sensing Birgir’s emotions. The uneasiness of an awkward boy had faded, though he was still not accustomed to his own skin. The bearskin cloak was all a ruse, a way to appear large and dominate when inside he was a mere lamb prepared for slaughter. “That’s it, Birgir. Remember how weak you were long ago. You haven’t changed much at all, dear cousin.” He opened his eyes and grinned. “You make this far too easy, you ignorant fool,” Alaric said before turning away to find Wir. *

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“How do people find you?” Teri asked as she looked around the backroom, which even he had to admit was a complete disaster. Saying a cyclone had gone through the building was putting it kindly. It looked as though a cyclone, a wild herd of pigs, and an army had all torn through, scattering paperwork, empty boxes, and tools among finished products. “Word of mouth, mostly,” he answered, crossing his arms as he sat on a folding chair, the only thing in the store he hadn’t made. “These are really amazing. I haven’t seen anything so beautifully detailed since last visiting a museum.” Birgir merely shrugged. He held out his hand and brought Teri onto his lap, where he folded his arms around her, keeping her close. “Ye realize woot time it is? Ye missed 100

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Inchcolm Island again, Selkie.” With a sigh, she nodded. “Yeah, I had a feeling that would happen. Oh well, there’s always tomorrow.” She twisted around and cradled his head in her hands, kissing him softly on the lips. “And then I’m off to St. Andrews.” Birgir grunted as he ran his fingertips up and down her spine. With a grin, Teri closed her eyes and leaned against him, inviting him to explore her further, in the way he’d wanted to ever since they’d stepped onto the mainland. He tightened his grasp on her and kissed her again as his hand swept along her inner thigh and slowly stroked between her legs. Her skirt was thin enough to feel the heat of her body and trace her curves with his long fingers, and her breath responded to the pleasure he silently promised. “With any luck, you’ll never see it,” he said. “Is that so?” “I could keep ye occupied a while.” She chuckled. “I think you’re right.” Turning her face, Birgir kissed her hard on the mouth, wanting to convince her right then and there that he could give her all Scotland had to offer and then some. She groaned against his lips while his hand traveled up her belly and under her shirt. His firm touch sent a shiver of pleasure through her as his palm brushed past her nipple, the contrast between her satiny bra and his rough hand almost too much to bear. She straddled his right leg and yanked his shirt over his head, barely able to break away from his kiss as he did the 101

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same to her. Flicking her tongue against his nipple, Teri felt his back arch in response. She couldn’t resist nipping him gently to hear him suck in a breath through his teeth. Drawing her lips to his, he inched her long skirt up her legs until it rested mid-thigh. There he stopped and moved his hand beneath the fabric, turning his wrist so that he touched a sensitive spot on the back of her leg. Teri’s eyes closed as he caressed her through her damp panties, his touch so light and teasing that it made her legs part. A groan escaped her lips as he traced along her cleft, his touch turning firm as he felt her desperately lowering against his hand, greedily inviting him to pleasure her. When he didn’t do it himself, Territory took the initiative and pulled her cotton bikini aside for him to feel her. She shifted, spreading her legs wider while unbuttoning his trousers and stroking him to life. She didn’t want to climax without him filling her this time, and she showed him how much she wanted to feel his thickness pumping her by groaning in his ear. Birgir allowed her one heated moment of his fingers sliding into her before he circled her clit and drew back, leaving her moaning in frustration. “Don’t make me wait,” she whispered as she nibbled his earlobe. She kissed his neck before she slunk from his lap and knelt on the floor. Birgir panted and watched her play with him, his breaths coming fast and hard when she stroked his testicles, supporting the weight in one hand while she stroked him 102

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faster. His head rolled back once she sheathed him and sucked on the tip of his uncut cock, his legs spreading wider as he strained to keep from climaxing. Teri surprised herself, as she was never one for giving head, but everything was different with Birgir. She wanted to experience every part of him, to touch and tease and bring him the same ecstasy he’d given her. When he could barely stand it a moment longer, Birgir sat up and gently grasped her shoulders, pulling her to her feet. Once she was standing he placed his hands on her hips, set her on a dining room table and lifted her skirt. Teri lay back, moving a “sold” sign that had caught in her hair while Birgir bent and kissed her between the legs, his tongue tickling her through her panties. She struggled out of them and scooted herself closer to the edge, wanting to feel every inch of him throbbing inside of her. He positioned himself between her legs and entered her slowly, his palms pressed to the table and his pants still around his ankles. As he gradually filled her, Teri felt her walls grip him as he sent a sharp exhale of breath hissing past his teeth. Her legs clasped around his back, drawing him closer and making her tighter. In this new position, his arousal filled her at an angle that made her whimper with pleasure and sent him gripping the table’s edge. His thrusts were slow at first, allowing her to feel every thick inch of him. His pubic bone rubbed her mound with each stroke, tormenting her, creating knots in her stomach that desperately needed to be unraveled. 103

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Grasping her by the wrist, Birgir positioned her index finger between her legs. Teri hesitated at first, but once she realized that Birgir’s thrusts became more fevered, she placed his hand over hers and made him guide her to climax, their combined pressure and her ability to watch him sent her into a quick, hard orgasm. Shaky breaths left her body, and Teri placed her hand low on his belly to keep him from applying pressure to her recovering clit. Lifting her legs, he made her tighter as he steadied himself and brought her hips back and forth, her body sliding along the table thanks to her long skirt. He pumped her harder, the head of his manhood finding the spot deep inside of her again. Teri gritted her teeth to keep from screaming out in overwhelming bliss as she parted her legs and brought him deeper. Birgir leaned over her and thrust harder, burying himself deep when he came. His arms swept beneath her and he brought her mouth to his, allowing a groan to escape as his body continued to spasm. “Where do men like you come from?” Teri murmured in his ear, her legs wrapping around his hips. Birgir kissed her softly and breathed against her face. “From places that no longer exist,” he answered, rubbing her back. “In times and lands that are more of myth than reality, of mist and fire, mountains and seas that have changed so greatly that the old no longer recognize the new.” His words sent goose bumps down her arms. Running her fingers through his hair, Teri studied his eyes, mesmerized. 104

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“They aren’t supposed to be here. Their time has passed, their ways forgotten. They exist in half-sleep and wait for someone to wake them, resurrect their sense of belonging in history that has not yet come to pass. And then, when they feel it finally, the tide takes it away, and they once more lay in wait, these men who no longer belong.” “Who said that?” “I did,” he answered, pressing his forehead to hers. “A thousand years pass, the moon waxes and wanes, and I find ye in the ocean, a selkie waiting to be discovered. Your selkie skin will never be claimed,” he whispered. “Just as I said, beautiful and dangerous.” Teri’s eyes met his and she smiled weakly, not wanting to release him. “I’m not beautiful and dangerous.” “Aye, ye are, and ye don’t ken. That’s the worst part of it all.”

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CHAPTER 10 Territory and Birgir walked arm in arm from the shop and out onto the street again, heading toward the top of the Royal Mile. She wanted to be as close to him as possible, tucked in his gentle yet protective grasp until she had to leave his side. Everything about him made her comfortable and warm inside, as though he belonged with her every step of the way. Scotland had enchanted her the way it had also stolen her mother’s heart. She smiled to herself, wondering if her mother would understand the way she felt, and knowing without a doubt that her hippie of a mother would have said this was definitely karma. “I’ll show ye the Witch’s Well first and then Cannonball 106

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House before we grab a bite to eat,” Birgir promised. “Good, I’m starving,” Teri said as she slung her purse over her shoulder and snuggled in closer. She sighed loudly enough for him to notice when he draped his arm over her, protecting her from the cold. “Oh, so now you’re hungry, are ye?” “You’ve walked me all over town.” “So I have.” He kissed the top of her head, his chin rubbing against her forehead. She enjoyed his company and knew it was mutual. His gray-blue eyes seemed livelier whenever she looked at him, his smile quick, and his touch firm and reassuring. They walked in silence through the crowd as the Royal Mile narrowed and climbed toward the castle. Teri couldn’t keep herself from thinking about the scar on his back and his past living in the state’s custody. He’d never said which state, but she had a feeling, from what he’d said, that it was somewhere along the east coast back in America. She had lost her mother, which was difficult, but she couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for him to lose both of his parents as an infant and become a ward of the state. “Woot are ye hungry for, Selkie? Greasy bar food, or something of sustenance?” “Sustenance. If we’re going to Craig’s bar at the end of the night, I need something to soak up all the whiskey.” Not a minute later, Teri dragged Birgir into Deacon Brodie Tavern so that she could read the plaque. The tavern was named for an infamous gent, a cabinetmaker by day and thief 107

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by night who supposedly survived execution by hanging and fled to Paris. “Here’s to escaping one life and leading another,” Teri said, lifting her shot of whiskey. “And to gambling.” “And a plaque with your name on it in two hundred years,” Birgir added. By the time they exited onto Lawnmarket, it was too dark to see the cannon imbedded in the wall of the famous Cannonball House. Shivering as the winds picked up, they walked to St. Giles Street and found a little bistro bustling with university students tapping away on their laptops and chatting into cell phones. Across the street was the tavern where Craig worked, which she could tell was Birgir’s home away from home. The marquee sign showed that a folk singer was performing in the adjacent club, and they could hear the music through the open side door. It was no one they had heard of, but the line stretched well past the tavern entrance. “This is like crack to someone on a twelve-step program for electronics,” Teri remarked once they seated themselves in a moody corner complete with overstuffed armchairs, a faux fireplace, and leather-bound books. The air smelled like peppermint chai and reverberated with cappuccino machines whirring above the smooth jazz tones. “Is the technology sending you into withdrawal?” Birgir asked as he scanned the room lit by the glow of notebook screens. “Yeah, but I should still check my messages to see if 108

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anyone in my family called.” Teri said as she leaned over and dug into her purse. “They might be twitchy since I haven’t called in over twenty-four hours.” A spunky waitress in high-heeled boots and a pleather miniskirt brought their drinks before trotting away. She promised their food would be out shortly, allowing Teri a moment to listen to her voicemail. “I’ll give ye some privacy and see how crowded it is across the street,” Birgir said as he rose and headed toward the door. *

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It started to drizzle as Birgir exited the bistro and trotted across the busy street. Several people blocking the tavern door moved when they saw him approach, and with a nod he thanked them and ducked through the doorway, greeted by the smell of smoke and beers on tap. Without Teri at his side, he hesitated, the loss of her company more obvious than he’d thought it would be. He turned, but the door had closed behind him and he couldn’t see her through the large panes of glass at the coffee house. A shrill whistle caught his attention and he looked up to find Craig motioning him toward the bar. “Your friend was back,” Craig said as he leaned over the counter. “He left not two minutes ago, mate.” Birgir glanced around, suppressing a shiver. “Thanks,” he said before tapping his knuckles on the bar. “Where’s Teri?” 109

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“Across the street. She’s checking her messages.” “How much longer is she in town?” “Another day or two,” Birgir mumbled, distracted by his thoughts. Instinct drew his hand to the amulet, and as his finger brushed over the stone he shivered again. “She’s cute.” With a nod, Birgir turned away. “How’s the band playing tonight?” he shouted over his shoulder. “She sounds as good as she looks.” Craig winked before Birgir struggled through the bar and onto the street. “Should be a full house.” *

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“Is this seat taken?” Teri glanced up after listening to the single message from her father. “Yeah, I—” “Do you mind if I sit with you for a moment?” The handsome, dark-haired stranger eased into Birgir’s seat and smiled, flashing a row of straight white teeth between thick lips. Pulling her purse into her lap, Teri looked toward the door for Birgir, avoiding eye contact with the nameless stranger. She hated it when people walked up out of nowhere and expected friendly banter, and this guy was sending out signals like flares. “I mean no harm,” the man said, extending his hand. “I just noticed you had an American accent. I’m also traveling abroad.” 110

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Attempting to be cordial, she shook his hand and then reached for her cup of tea so that he didn’t have an excuse to touch her. “Has anyone ever told you that you have very beautiful eyes, Teri?” She shook her head. “No, but thanks.” “Beautiful but sad, as though you’ve witnessed much tragedy.” Teri looked at him again, her gaze drawn to his dark eyes. Though his voice was soft and his manner gentle, his eyes were piercing. Yet, they lacked true expression, vacant like a doll’s gaze. It was too dark to see their exact color, but from where she sat Teri thought they were black. Deep, black eyes like an abyss. “Not really,” she said, checking the door for Birgir. “Do you take after your mother?” With a wry smile, she glanced at him again. “My mother passed away.” His face formed a sympathetic frown. “How terrible. No wonder you look so sad. If you don’t mind me asking, how old were you?” “Thirteen.” “I bet you look just like her.” Teri nodded. “That’s what my dad says.” “I should be on my way before your husband returns,” he said, his eyes flashing to her left hand. “Or whoever has the pleasure of your company.” “I’m waiting for a, um, friend,” she said, wincing at how 111

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obtuse her words sounded. Was that what he was? A fuck buddy? Rising to his feet, the man brushed his hand over hers one last time. His skin felt cool, and a shudder ran down her spine in response. “I’m afraid I must be on my way. I’ve been searching for a friend myself. All day long we keep missing each other.” “Well, good luck.” “Thank you, dear. It was nice meeting you, Miss Hail.” “Same to you.” She paused, realizing she didn’t know his name, but he had known hers. *

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“Birgir?” a male voice called through the crowd. Stopping in the middle, Birgir glanced through the constantly moving sea of faces, his hand shading his eyes from the steady rain. He searched until a hand clapped him on the back, startling him. “There you are. How are you? Did Craig give you my message?” Turning, Birgir stared at the shorter, dark-haired man nodding toward the curb where people were waiting for cars to pass. Glancing ahead, he walked with the man. “Craig said someone was looking for ma,” Birgir responded. “Yes, I’ve been searching for weeks, really. It’s good to finally see you again.” “Why are you looking for ma?” 112

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The man frowned as they stood away from the Edinburgh bustle. “Because we’re family. I’ve been attempting to contact members of my family since I’ve been doing research and your name came up. Sort of a…what do they call it? A network, I suppose.” Birgir straightened. His heart was hammering in his chest, though he didn’t understand why he had such a deep sense of consternation. He knew of his brothers for certain—and he recalled many other branches extending from his family tree, but the details were mere static in his mind. This man, however, looked vaguely familiar. “Woot’s your name again?” “Wilson Howard.” Birgir’s eyes narrowed. “Billy? From the…” With an easy smile, the younger man nodded. “You do remember me. I was afraid our childhood rivalries would cause us grief, my cousin, but I should have known your father was right. You are forgiving and admirable. You always were the most easygoing.” “Ma father?” “You never heard, did you?” “Woot’s there tae hear?” Billy’s expression darkened. “Old friend, I didn’t want you to hear it like this. He spent many years searching for you, but he eventually gave up,” the man said, giving Birgir a sympathetic nod. “I refused to give up, Birgir. We’re family in a way few would ever understand. That home, those people there running our lives…or should I say ruining our 113

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lives? Nothing should stand between family.” “Where is he?” Billy rubbed his chin and motioned for them to cross the street, which Birgir did without question. “That’s what I needed to tell you. He’s been very ill. Surely Erik mentioned this to you recently?” “I haven’t spoken tae him in a few weeks.” “They haven’t looked for you?” Billy asked, sounding astonished. “Your brother hasn’t attempted to contact you? Birgir, I just talked to him yesterday. He and his wife both promised to inform you well before I appeared.” Billy gave him a pat on the arm and a sympathetic frown. “I always thought the two of you were close.” “We are. We were,” Birgir corrected himself. Billy paused, nodding as though he understood completely. “Why don’t we arrange something, Birgir? We could catch up on old times, and I could give you all the information you need to know about your father and brother,” he said jovially. “I haven’t heard anything from Eva, but you know how she is.” “Ava,” he corrected. Only the nuns had called her Eva. “I want tae ken how tae contact them.” With a Cheshire grin, Billy patted Birgir on the back once more. “We could arrange that for you, Cousin. You don’t mind if I call you Cousin, do you?” He shook his head even though he did mind. The only family he had was Erik and Ava, and the only other person in the world he would refer to as family would have been Craig. 114

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“It was good seeing you again, Birgir. I must say, I’m pleased to know I’ve found you after all these years.” He gave a smirk and ran his fingers along the bear fur. “You haven’t changed much, I see.” “And woot’s that supposed tae mean?” Billy offered no reply. He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked from his heels to his toes. “I do hope we can get off on the right foot this time.” Birgir nodded, ignoring the tightness in his stomach and the warning in his mind. *

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After a half-hour of screaming over the folk singer, Birgir and Territory said good-bye to Craig and called it a night. The rain had almost stopped, and dense fog had cloaked the streets by the time they reached her car. Teri unlocked the doors before Birgir grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into his embrace. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest, smelling whiskey on his breath melded with his own masculine scent. Her hands reached beneath his cloak and balled around his shirt, his large frame reassuring in the vast night. “I found ma cousin before I returned tae the bistro,” he said, his voice rumbling against her ear through his chest. “That’s great,” Teri replied. She felt him nod. “He kens where ma father’s been all these years.” Sensing the excitement in his soft words, Teri squeezed him tighter. “I’m happy for you.” 115

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“He wouldna tell ma a thing about him.” “Maybe it’s a surprise.” “Maybe.” “But I take it you don’t like surprises?” “Not like this, I don’t.” With a shiver, Teri jumped into her car and Birgir followed. He reached for her hand before she turned the key in the ignition. “Woot happens now?” She thought a moment, looking him over. With tours scheduled for the morning and a late ride out of town in the evening, this would be the easiest time to say good-bye. She could drive him back to the shore, kiss him, and never look back. But the Hail Family never did anything easy. “Come back to my hotel with me and spend the night,” she murmured. “We can order room service and spend the whole night together. Just you and me.” Lifting her chin, he leaned in and kissed her softly. In silence he searched her eyes, and Teri noticed his gaze was filled with apprehension and a tinge of sadness. “And tomorrow?” His sullen words weakened Territory’s knees. Each moment they spent together would make leaving all the more heartbreaking. “Let’s just make it through tonight.” “I could make it through a lot of nights with ye, Selkie.” “I know.” 116

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He stroked her cheek with his fingers and she drew her gaze away from his. Damn him for making her throat tighten. She was not going to cry over him. This was just a fling in Scotland, something to remember all of her life and say, “Yeah, I was crazy once, a long time ago.” But she didn’t want this time to be crazy. She wanted this to be real, a fairytale she could tell over and over again to anyone who would listen. This is how I met the love of my life, this is how I found my soul mate. That same creepy feeling she’d had all day returned and made her jump. She glanced in the review mirror at the foggy streets, this time certain someone was watching her. “Woot is it?” “Let’s get out of here.” She forced a half-smile and squeezed his hand briefly before starting her car.

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CHAPTER 11 Once Territory stepped out of the shower, her third of the day, she slipped into her robe and couldn’t wait to toss it into her suitcase and take it home. She walked into the bedroom and found Birgir sitting by the hotel room computer with a large rectangular box in hand and a confused expression on his face. “Found the Edinburgh edition of Monopoly, eh?” she asked. “I saw that in the hotel brochure.” “You’ve heard of it?” “The game?” She took her hair down from the fluffy towel and turned to glance at him. “Of course. You’ve never heard of Monopoly?” 118

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He shook his head and opened the box, spilling out pink and green money as well as the property cards. With a chuckle she helped him recover all the pieces strewn across the floor. “You wanna play for a while? I lose pretty quickly at this game.” While Teri set up the board on the bed, she explained the rules of the game. Taking the horse and rider as her own, she gave Birgir the top hat. “Woot if I dinnae want tae be a bloody top hat? Woot if I wanted tae be an iron? Or the dog?” “Then be an iron or a dog,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Quit making this difficult.” Birgir owned Scottish Parliament and Royal Yacht Britannia before his first time around the board, while Teri ended up paying bills and getting out of jail. Once he knew what he was doing, he exchanged his houses for hotels and bankrupted Teri, for which he apologized and asked if he could loan her money. With a playful sigh of exasperation, she collapsed on the bed. “We would be here forever if that were allowed.” He slid everything into the box and set it on the floor before purposely flopping onto the bed beside her. She was airborne for a split second and yelped in surprise until he wrapped his arm around her and nipped at her neck. “That was fun,” he said, kissing her behind the ear. “A little pointless, but fun.” “Yeah, I used to love playing that when I was a kid. We used to cheat like hell, though, and keep the game going for a 119

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few days until my mom or dad stepped on one of the pieces and made us put it away.” Inhaling, Teri turned to him and smiled. “What did you do for fun?” “Watched rivers,” he answered. “And followed the deer trails.” “Hunting?” she asked warily. Birgir placed his hand on her stomach and shook his head. “Never interested ma much. Ma older brother was a hunter and actually killed two of the squirrels Sister Anne fancied, I was more…” “Gatherer?” He chuckled. “Of rocks and trouble.” Turning onto her stomach, Teri cupped her chin in her palms. “You? Trouble? I don’t believe it.” “Oh, aye. I cut ma own switch on several occasions and gave it tae Mother Beatrice. Of course, I always talked ma way out of a beating.” He grinned as he drew circles on the small of her back with the pads of his fingers. “What were you doing that she made you cut your own switch?” Teri felt him give her robe’s belt a hearty tug. “Nothing,” he murmured as his hand traveled up the back of her leg. His unexpected touch made her toes curl in delight. Her back arched in response as his hand passed over her ass and along her hips. Her breaths deepened and she turned to her side, reaching for his shirt. “Wait,” Birgir whispered. He drew the terrycloth robe back from her shoulder and ran his lips along her smooth, 120

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sensitive skin. Inhaling her scent, he kissed her neck and nuzzled her with his soft whiskers. A soft sigh escaped past her lips as she inched closer, wanting desperately to feel the heat of his body against her skin. She struggled again to unbutton his trousers, but he rolled onto his stomach and gently pinned her arm to the bed before fully opening her robe. “This isn’t fair,” she breathed as he kissed her between her breasts, making a butterfly trail down to her navel. “Seems fair tae ma,” he said against her belly. His tongue flicked out and tasted her warm, sweet flesh. When she sucked in a breath, he blew cool air onto her belly button ring, causing her hips to rise off the bed. Barely able to breath, Teri moved her knees apart and swallowed hard. “Not yet,” he murmured. “Why not?” she asked, and lifted her head from the pillow. He looked up, his finger still tracing around her belly button. “Because I want ye tae remember everything ye feel tonight for the rest of your life. Close your eyes.” With a smile Teri ran the backs of her fingers along his cheek and finally obeyed. Birgir ran his fingertips up and down her midsection, allowing his warm hand to brush against her breasts before skimming along her ribs, and down her sides to her hips. He kissed her shoulder and neck as he continued to caress her, his touch becoming firmer as his lips made their way to her breast and his fingers teased between her legs, rubbing along her damp lips. 121

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He stroked her smooth skin, carefully neglecting her stiff clit. Fire raged through her veins, his wordless promises driving her mad with desire. Her body was more than ready to accept his, to feel him move within her and love her like no one else. With her fingers tangled in his hair, Teri coaxed him to meet her lips. “Let me touch you,” she whispered against his kiss. Desire made her frantic, and when she kissed him she rolled onto her side and pressed her torso to his, desperately wanting to feel the outline of his manhood between her legs. “You will,” he promised. He rolled onto her and supported his weight on his hands and knees while he kissed her, long and lazy. Urgency ebbed, replaced by languid enjoyment, as they tasted one another. Birgir ran his hand through her hair and whispered to her, murmurs of how he loved the way her hair smelled, or how soft her shoulder felt against his lips. He told her how he searched for her in the water and the relief he felt when he pulled her from the ocean—and how he thought she might die in his arms, a nameless, beautiful woman he’d waited a lifetime to meet. “I stole ye back from Aegir,” Birgir said against her throat. “His greatest treasure.” She stared into his eyes as he pushed her hair back from her face and kissed her forehead, his hips cradled between her open legs. She stroked her hand over his dick, rolled the condom down his penis and fondled his tight balls. 122

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“Is that who I feel watching me?” “Any man would watch ye, Selkie, any man with sense.” The head of his cock pressed to her slit and she lifted her hips, feeling him slowly split her open. His fingers tugged at her hair until he exposed her throat and kissed her, his bristly face nuzzling her. “I think I did the worst thing possible,” he said before his mouth closed over hers. Teri locked her legs around his waist and drove him deep on the first thrust. She felt his restraint, his embrace firm but filled with electricity. He was not going to allow their coupling to be short and feral. He was going to do exactly as he said and have her remember him for as long as she lived. “What’s the worst thing possible?” she breathed as he pulled out completely, leaving her lungs and body empty, needy. Putting his arm beneath her, Birgir continued to kiss her as he filled her again, creating spasms within her body that made her groan. “Falling for ma Selkie,” he said as he thrust harder and grunted, smashing her breast to his chest. Her body gripped his, pleasure surging through her from head to toe. She wanted him to take her faster, to give her exactly what she knew he could provide. “I want ye tonight,” he said firmly, his hand running up and down her thigh. “And I want tae remember ye always.” Long, slow strokes accompanied by soft flicks of his tongue against her pebbled nipples brought her to a climax that shook her body. She’d never felt anything like it before, 123

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so calming yet exhilarating as though nothing else mattered but the two of them together. He held her close as he loved her, surrounding her with his masculine strength while reassuring her with his gentle touch. “Birgir,” she whispered. “Say it again.” “Birgir.” Her voice strained to form a single word, but even if it took her last breath, she’d do as he asked. He rolled onto his back and brought her with him, keeping her legs wrapped around his hips. Tightening his stomach, he sat up and settled her on his lap. His tongue swept along the inside of her mouth, his fist tangled in her hair as he tilted her head to the side and kissed her hard, refusing her a moment to breathe. “Tell ma you’re mine tonight,” he ordered. “I’m yours, Birgir, all yours.” With a satisfied nod, he guided her hips, his eyes locked on hers until she felt herself drawing nearer to climax, her body more than willing to respond to his voice. “Look at me,” he urged when she began to close her eyes. She lost herself in his gaze, pleasure overwhelming her senses as she rocked slowly against him, the buildup releasing as he lifted his hips to meet hers. Teri still felt him holding back, and as her walls contracted around him, she cupped his face in her hands and ran her thumb along his lower lip. “Come inside me,” she murmured. “I need to feel you.” Birgir leaned forward and positioned Teri on her side, leaving them momentarily apart. She ached for him, her 124

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vagina contracting in lonesome need to feel him. As if to console her, he came up behind her and ran his hand along her ass, roughly grabbing her. She sighed to his touch, wanting him to be anything but a gentleman. She wanted him to pull her hair and fuck her from behind, pounding her until she wept in his arms, overwhelmed by her need to surrender. “Woot else do ye want, love?” “I want you.” She turned her head to the side, her left cheek buried against the pillow. From the corner of her eye she saw him kneeling over her, prepared to take her like an animal. Long, thick fingers played with her ass as he leaned into her and bit the back of her neck. She arched her back, feeling the hard, thick length of his cock pressed against the base of her spine. “I can’t wait,” she panted. “I need you.” He ran his hand over her breast and along her stomach, leaving her as a quivering heap. Every inch of her body trembled for him, sought his familiar touch. Tears clouded her eyes and she balled her hands into fists, angry that he wouldn’t give her what she wanted, angry that this would be the last time to want him. “Birgir,” she groaned, struggling to keep her voice steady. “I have ye, Teri,” he said as he filled her from behind, spooning her. He entered her slowly, his lips against her shoulder, telling her he was there with her, that he’d stay with her as long as 125

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possible. With her legs together he felt bigger than ever and she responded, unable to contain the moan of pleasure that left her mouth. He was there completely, inside and out, part of her heartbeat and breath and the very core of her soul. “Does it hurt?” Birgir asked as he stopped and kissed her cheek. Teri shook her head, so overwhelmed by the feeling of him that she couldn’t bring herself to speak. His hands wrapped around her stomach, his fingers finding her smooth hard clit. Fitting so tightly inside of her was his undoing, and as he climaxed he exhaled against the back of her neck and thrust deep into her where he remained. He held her close until she whimpered again, contracting around his cock, holding him deep inside of her, struggling to keep him there. Hearing her cry out brought him to life once more and he turned her to face him, placing her leg over his as he made love to her again. “Don’t stop,” she begged. “Don’t ever stop.” “Ye demand much of ma,” he said. She smiled at him, her fingers stroking his cheeks and beard as though she could force herself to remember the curve of his nose and the heat of his soft kiss. Their eyes remained on one another until they were satisfied and exhausted, lost in each other’s arms. Birgir rested his head against her shoulder and closed his eyes, trembling against her as he locked his arms around her body. “It was worth falling for a selkie,” he whispered before he 126

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lifted his head and kissed her again. They lay tangled together for a long while, touching, kissing, and enjoying the quiet moments that remained. Teri ran her hand along Birgir’s stomach and thought about the scar from his days of roughhousing with his brother. “Are you going to tell me what you did when you were little?” she asked, her finger tracing the scar. “Woot do ye mean?” he asked. “You said Mother Beatrice made you cut your own switch. You have to tell me more than that.” Birgir closed his eyes and took a deep breath. ”It was a very large home and no one ever paid much mind tae me. Made it easy tae go sneaking away for a while.” She inhaled, drunk on the smell of him. “There was a cave some distance from the home,” he started. “And there was a bear that had a cub. No one knew about it, but I heard plenty of warnings about the bears and how they’d kill every person in the home if we went too close to it. Of course, I didna think it was real and I wandered near enough tae get ma a look of a bear.” Teri stayed quiet. She lowered her head to her folded arms and closed her eyes, listening to his story. “They didna mind if I was there in their territory. I could watch them for hours, following them tae the streams and deeper into the forest where the roads cut through the trees. One time I saw my brother Erik watching them from across the river, but he was too busy tracking deer tae care. He saw me, nodded, and went on his way. Nivver said a word about 127

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it.” Teri opened her eyes when she felt him move closer. “The mother trusted ma enough tae allow ma closer tae her cub, which was almost ready tae be on his own. He’d come up tae ma and lick honeycomb from ma hand.” “Isn’t that dangerous?” “Oh, aye. I didna ken why I did it other than tae see if it would eat ma alive just like Mother Beatrice said it would.” With a smile, Teri raked her fingers through his loose hair. “I was crouched by the mouth of their cave, watching through the underbrush as they both lumbered out. They were beautiful up close, so powerful, but nivver intending tae do harm. They just wanted tae stay in the forest and live alone without being bothered.” She flattened her hand against his chest, feeling the beat of his heart change from steady to thunderous. “What happened?” “I don’t ken what happened. The cub was eating berries from a branch it had dragged into the cave when an arrow hit the mother bear right between the eyes. Bounced off her scull, but she didna seem tae notice. She roared and I rose tae ma feet, thinking I could stop whoever was trying tae kill them, but I nivver saw anyone. When it was over, the cub had an arrow in one eye and another through the throat. He’d run out of the cave to protect his mum.” Teri grunted in sympathy. “That’s terrible.” “He wasn’t going tae survive, not with how he was bleeding from the neck. If I left him, there was a chance that 128

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he wouldna bleed tae death, but infection would spread and he would die in several days. I waited until the mother calmed down a bit before I approached her.” He paused for a long while and Teri rested her chin on his chest, his tension seeping into her hands as she held onto him. “What did you do?” she whispered. Birgir shook his head. “Tell me,” she begged, kissing his chest. “I told her that her son was suffering and drew a knife. She turned away and I put him down, as they say. I nivver saw her again after that, but I kept his hide.” “The cloak?” she questioned, though she knew the answer. “It seemed like a waste tae allow a brave animal tae return tae the earth and be forgotten. Fierceness, loyalty, strength…I feel his heart each time I wear his fur. He’s still alive tae me.” “You never found out who it was? The person who shot at the bears?” “They were arrows from ma brother, ones he’d made in archery. It wasn’t him. I ken it wasn’t. Erik wouldna make an animal suffer, and he wouldna attack a bear minding his own. It was someone else, someone cowardly and weak. If I’d seen who did it, I’d have killed him right then and there.” “Did anyone ever know about the bears?” “It was the talk of the school. Everyone thought I’d killed it myself except Mother Beatrice, who said I’d go tae hell for what I’d done. I told her I didna care because I didna believe in her hell.” “The switch?” 129

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“Aye. Beat me bloody once. She nivver touched ma again after that.” “She respected you then?” “I ran away.” “What about your family?” “Woot about them? I invited the two of them and they refused, so I went on ma own. The rest is not nearly as interesting.” Teri closed her eyes again and listened to Birgir breathe for a long while after he finished his story. When she could no longer fight sleep, she whispered to him, “Do you know what I think, Birgir?” “Woot do ye think, Selkie?” “I think you’re the most wonderful man I’ve ever met.”

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CHAPTER 12 With one touch he knew her weaknesses. Afraid of centipedes because they’re creepy and have way too many legs. Refuses to step on man holes or grates on sidewalks because she feared falling into nothingness. Never drives five miles an hour over the speed limit because it’s dangerous. The last one was on account of her mother. When Alaric closed his eyes, he could see the headlines in the papers, the reports on television, and a bewildered father clinging to his teenage children, an older brother staying strong for his mother, a young girl who would never understand why she was the only woman in the house. Alaric fed off her insecurities and honed in on Territory 131

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Heather Hail, age twenty-eight, youngest of two children. Taking a breath, he released her from his memory and once again found the energy he was pursuing. The amulet pulsed in the air, unheeded by mere mortals. It was close, three floors up in the Scotsman Hotel. Several hours ago, he had felt the life force radiating from the stone and metal hidden beneath his cousin’s shirt and fur cloak. His cell phone chirped, and as he sat back and crossed his long legs, he answered it. “Well?” “He’s with a woman.” Alaric smiled to himself, sensing the indignation in his father’s silence. “I know all about her.” “Have you seen him?” Alaric’s dark eyes scanned the lobby. “Of course I’ve seen him,” he assured Wir. “But there is a storm approaching. I don’t like the way the air feels.” “Do it now,” his father instructed. “Before your opportunity is lost.” Without another word, Alaric ended the call and dialed the Scotsman Hotel. He saw the young woman at the desk look away from her computer screen and answer the phone. “My name is Brian Hail,” he said. “I’m calling for one of your guests. Could you please give her a message for me?” *

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Territory woke to the sound of rain pelting the windows. Stretching, she turned over and faced Birgir, who was lying on his belly deep asleep, his lips parted and hair mussed. His 132

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hand fell off her hip and briefly woke him, though his eyes weren’t ready to stay open. After he mumbled something incoherent, he turned onto his side and drew her close enough so that she felt his erection against her stomach. Even in sleep, he managed to want her, and that made her smile. “You at least have to be awake for sex,” she said in his ear. “Aye,” he replied. “Sounds good.” With a deep breath, he dozed off again, snoring softly against his pillow. She chuckled to herself and kissed his nose, feeling him relax. He’d have no idea what she said or did by the time he woke, allowing her the perfect opportunity to confess her secrets to him. “Until you, the only orgasms I ever had came from something run on batteries,” she whispered as her finger traced the amulet. He grunted and shifted in his sleep, which tore the necklace from her grasp. The leather was too weak from where the bale was wearing away at the material and the leather gave. “Shit,” she mumbled, knowing its importance to him. “Birgir, wake up, honey. I need to get this tied back together for you.” Another grunt and he ran his hand up her back before he rolled over. “Sleep, Selkie,” he exhaled. Kissing his shoulder, Teri removed the cord from around Birgir’s neck. She covered him with the comforter and slid out of bed to retrieve her sweater and repair the necklace. Birgir was quite possibly the most warm-blooded person 133

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she had ever encountered, and the moment she was no longer snuggled up beside him she shivered, wondering if it was normal to be a human furnace. All of her nights would be colder once she returned home. “Waxing poetic,” she said under her breath with a smirk. Clearly, Birgir had her tied up in knots. She knew without a doubt that she could lie next to him in bed and listen to him— among other things—for the rest of her life. Her boring, uneventful, sexually unfulfilled life back in Minnesota where her desk job and stupid commercials awaited. Ever since she’d met Birgir she’d forgotten her normal routine. Glancing over her shoulder, she realized he’d made her forget a lot of things, like mourning her mother’s death. She couldn’t remember a day passing where she didn’t break down in tears or swallow back her emotions. All it had to be was a poster with Snoopy on his dog house or a box of animal crackers and she was thirteen again, struggling to find herself and all the scattered pieces of her mom. Wiping a tear from her eye, she turned away from the bed and sniffled. She stared at the silver pendent in her fist and felt her lip quiver. This was ridiculous. She wanted a simple fling, not a tragic romance. There she was getting flummoxed again! This was supposed to be easy. Go to a foreign country where she would never run into anyone she knew, get laid, and return home a seasoned traveler. There wasn’t supposed to be the most perfect man she’d ever been with snoring softly. There was supposed to be a cute, possibly above-average stranger 134

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sneaking out of her hotel room, not the nearest thing to a Norse god spending the night. In the middle of her silent rant, the hotel phone started blinking. She padded across the floor and squinted in the dark at the directions for retrieving her voicemail. While she punched in the numbers, she tried to calculate what time it was in the Midwest. Her best guess was about eight in the evening, the perfect time for her dad to forget the time difference and return her call. “Miss Hail, I have a message for you from a Brian Hail. There’s been an accident involving Edward. Brian would like you to please catch the next flight back home. The number he left for you to contact him is his mobile. Shall I give you the number?” Teri dropped the phone back on the cradle and shimmied into her jeans and a T-shirt. Her hands shook as she grabbed Birgir’s shoulder and woke him. “I have to go,” she said, her voice trembling. “I have to get to the airport.” Her words roused him at once and he sat up in bed, his eyes heavy, his face red on one side where he’d been sleeping with his cheek against his pillow. “Woot?” “I can’t stay here.” “Why? Woot’s wrong, love?” Teri zipped up her suitcase and slung her purse over her shoulder. “My brother left a message. My dad’s been in some sort of accident.” Birgir was wide-awake once she finished speaking. He 135

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swung his legs over the edge of the bed, tangled in the sheets as he struggled to stand. ”I’ll go with ye tae the airport.” “There’s no time. I have to go.” “Teri—” Tears streamed down her face. “I’m so sorry. I really have to go. My dad needs me.” He stared at her a moment, his jaw slack, his gaze filled with horror. “I…I fell in love with you, too,” she said, hiccupping tears. And just like that she was out the door, her suitcase nearly tripping her as she ran for the elevator.

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CHAPTER 13 Territory frantically hit speed dial as the elevator made its slow descent to the lobby. Her battery was almost dead and her phone wasn’t getting a strong enough signal, which meant she lost the calls to her brother before they went through. Worse case scenarios buzzed through her mind and she started to cry again. Not knowing what was happening along with being on the other side of the Atlantic left her unable to think straight. Once the elevator doors opened, she bolted into the lobby, frantically told the girl her name, and asked for the valet to bring her car around. With a sympathetic nod, the woman told her she could wait in the vestibule for her vehicle. Teri 137

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dragged her suitcase through the lobby and kept her eyes on her phone. Her fingers were trembling so badly that it was impossible to punch in the correct numbers. With a sigh of frustration, she realized she was still carrying Birgir’s pendant. Teri decided to look up Valhalla Furnishings on the internet and mail it back to his store once she returned home. She slipped the amulet into her pocket and nearly tripped when her suitcase stopped moving. Turning to check her bag, she felt herself suddenly dragged out the front door and into the cold of night. An arm wrapped around her waist and she gasped, her lungs compressed by her attacker’s vice-like grip. Struggling to escape, she fought to scream when a hand covered her mouth and nose, keeping her silent and unable to breathe. The glass hotel window gave her a glimpse of her plight, a split-second of terror in her eyes and a smile on the face of the man behind her. He wrenched her to the side, dragging her with him until she thought he’d break her in half. “Not now, sweetheart,” he whispered in her ear. “You need to have a bit of fun with your new friend Alaric.” *

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Birgir scrambled out of the hotel room in time to see the elevator doors close. Cursing under his breath, he found the stairwell and bolted to the lobby, his belt clanking as he jogged down the stairs. Sliding across the freshly cleaned lobby floor, Birgir righted himself and scanned the main floor. 138

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“Have ye seen a young woman?” he asked the woman at the counter. He used his hand to display how tall Teri was and described her in one breath. “She’s waiting for her car,” the woman said as she indicated the door. With a nod, Birgir turned and heard Teri scream. He remembered the sound of her panic the night he had pulled her from the water. Exiting the hotel, Birgir was immediately greeted by the rain and the taillights of a black vehicle pulling onto the street. Through the back window he saw Teri, her fists beating against the glass. His first instinct was to run after her, but the valet brought Teri’s Renault around. “Warmed up for you, sir,” the valet said once he stepped out. Muttering his thanks, Birgir tipped him and threw the car into drive. He pulled onto North Bridge and hit the gas to catch up to the car weaving across the empty street. He sped up just as a blinding bolt of lightning barred his path and forced him to slam on the breaks. His vehicle lost its traction on the slippery street and screeched into a ninety-degree turn. Glancing over his shoulder, Birgir saw the black car turn the corner. When he turned to face the steering wheel, he was met by the image of a man standing with his hand on the hilt of his sword and a worried look in his eyes. Birgir threw the car door open and stepped into the night. His heart was hammering in his chest as he stood before the 139

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red-blonde stranger. Hands balled into fists, Birgir shrugged his cloak over his shoulders and stepped forward. He showed the man blocking his path that he was unarmed but would not back down from a fight. “In your heart you know your quarrel does not lie with me,” the man stated as he nodded to Birgir’s closed fist. “I’ll fight tae the death for her,” Birgir answered. “The body of a bear and a heart of fire still, I see,” the older man stated, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. “Do you know who I am?” His wariness receded, his wits finally returned. With a heavy sigh, he saw his brother’s stature, his sister’s lips, and his own face staring back at him. Emotion swelled through him and he stepped forward to offer his hand. “You’re ma father, aren’t ye?” Thor nodded, smiling as though he found relief in his son’s words. “I never thought I would see ye.” “I have been searching for you and Ava a long time now.” “Woot about Erik?” “Erik is not a wanderer. He is content with his family and horses. But you and Ava? You are the same as always The two of you have proven elusive to me.” Birgir nodded, knowing Erik’s wife Storm would agree. She always complained about Birgir not having a phone and Ava always disappearing whenever the wind changed direction. 140

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“It has kept you from harm all these years. Your half brother has been quite cunning with his allies.” Birgir furrowed his brow. He’d been swaddled in rags and placed into his sister’s arms when they’d made their voyage. He had no recollection of anything or anyone. “There are more of us?” Thor shook his head. “You have a half brother. Wir is his name and he wishes to destroy you.” “I haven’t done anything tae him.” “Aye.” Drawing him into an embrace, Thor thumped his hand against Birgir’s back. “There is not much time, my son. Tell me of this woman you seek. Does she possess the amulet?” Trepidation filled Birgir’s eyes as he nodded. “She’s been taken. The car…I’ve lost sight of her,” he said. Bowing his head, Birgir exhaled, frustrated with himself for not following her out the door. “I should be more concerned about the pendant, shouldn’t I?” “What relation is this woman to you?” his father questioned as he gestured toward the car and they both entered. “She is meant tae be mine,” Birgir answered. “Do you know who stole her?” “Yes,” he answered, surprising himself. “But no. I didna ken his name or who he is, not like I should.” With a faint smile, Thor sat back and closed his eyes. He ran his hand along his red beard and nodded. “It is Alaric, son of Wir.” 141

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Birgir shook his head. “I don’t ken him at all.” “Aye, but you do. He’s your age but he’s your nephew. I have seen him wandering through the river of time. I believe he has been here before.” “Aye,” Birgir said faintly. A shiver ran through his body and he clenched his fists. “The school,” he said under his breath. “I think he’s called himself by a different name. Wilson.” “Aye, close enough to Wir’s son.” “I’ve hated him all ma life,” Birgir blurted out. “For good reason, my son. He is the product of your half brother and the goddess Hel.” Birgir stood motionless, barely able to believe what his father said to him even though it all made sense, filled the emptiness inside of him that had earned many a beating and bruise. His pagan history had always been true and finally, after all these years, he had proof. “The energy is near,” Thor said. Without opening his eyes, he pointed toward the sea with one trembling finger, tendrils of lightning sparking from his fingernail. “Follow it, my son.” *

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As much as she fought him, the stranger who’d approached her in the coffee house easily overpowered Teri in the back of the car and swiftly gagged her with a cloth and rope. He bound her wrists with duct tape, did the same to her wriggling feet at the ankles, and pulled her from the car and into the bitterly cold rain. 142

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She continued to fight him as he dragged her toward the sound of waves hidden in the night, her knees and shins battered by pavement that soon turned to buckled wood. Hefting her under the arms, he attempted to deposit her into a waiting boat, but she lowered and bent her legs to push herself back. Gaining momentum, she knocked her captor off balance, rolled over him, and wriggled away on her sore knees and bound hands. Despite her best efforts, she knew the only thing she gained was a few more seconds of life. Alaric grabbed her by the feet and yanked her back toward the boat. Her face hit the pier and she screamed against the gag. Once he turned her onto her back, he stood over her and held his outstretched hand inches from her face. Lightning flashed within the clouds and she noticed for the first time that she had clawed him across his cheek. A jagged, bloody trail had formed down to his neck. “I have no qualms about drawing your lover to your corpse, woman,” he said through his teeth as he grabbed a handful of her hair and brought something cold and sharp to her neck. “Thank you, my dear, for putting on such a lovely show when we left your hotel.” Teri drew in a sharp breath, eyes bulging and feet kicking in vain to escape the knife’s edge against her throat. The blade slid across her sensitive flesh and drew blood, which paralyzed her with the reality of her fate. He would kill her if she disobeyed him. He might kill her even if she did exactly what he told her. “He will come for you, won’t he?” Alaric asked. 143

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She screamed against her gag, and without warning, the hand clutching her hair loosened and she heard her captor inhale deeply. “The stone,” he whispered. “Ah, I feel it now. Where have you hidden it?” He wrenched her head back and forced her to look into his soulless, coal-black eyes. Tugging on her gag, he loosened it enough to allow her to whimper. “Where is it?” She shook her head, fighting back tears of sheer terror. “You deceptive little cunt. Give me the amulet,” he shouted over the roll of thunder. With a murderous glare, he wrapped his hands around her neck and shook her hard, threatening to crush her windpipe. With the last of her strength she clawed at his hands, her fingernails breaking skin. Cursing her, he grabbed her by the hair and whipped her backward with such force she was thrown against the pier. She groaned and shuddered, unable to breathe, unable to move or think. Her tongue attempted to work against the gag in her mouth, which seemed tighter than ever, but her every movement seemed worthless. He’d left her stunned in agony, her body as useless as a puppet with the strings cut. Stars and dark blotches danced through her vision, but through her haze she heard an inhuman growl followed by a roar of anger and her attacker being thrown to the ground. 144

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CHAPTER 14 With a feral growl, Birgir lunged at Alaric, nearly toppling him from the pier. Leaner and more nimble, Alaric rolled away from him and regained his footing. “Woot do ye want with ma?” Birgir demanded through his teeth. “You already know the answer to that.” Alaric charged at Birgir, who caught him by the arm and threw him to the ground. Sharp pain made Birgir step back, and when he did he felt the warmth of blood spilling from a fresh wound to his side. “We’re family,” Birgir panted as he glared at him. “Does it mean nothing tae ye?” 145

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Alaric grinned, turning his wrist as he casually examined the dagger in his hand. “Of course it does, my dear uncle, but it seems our blood ties have turned anemic over the years.” Behind him, Teri struggled against her binds while Thor attempted to free her from her gag. “Get her out of here,” Birgir said to his father before he turned his gaze to Teri. He saw the bloodstain on her neck and his mood darkened, anger filling him like nothing he had felt before. Their eyes met briefly in darkness before Birgir turned to face Alaric. “Give me the stone,” Alaric demanded. Though his voice was stern, his eyes were fearful, a cowardly beast bearing its teeth despite its tail tucked between its legs. “If your animosity lies with ma, then so be it, but ye will not hurt her.” “Then give me the stone and she is free.” Birgir shook his head. “You always were the dumbest one in the family, weren’t you? Always pretending not to feel it when someone hit you in the head with a rock or spit on you in the hallway. Like a big, dumb horse bumbling along, looking for a place to hide. No wonder you searched out bears. Made you look smart for once, didn’t they.” Alaric shook his head. “And now look at you? My, it’s a shame some creatures don’t evolve.” It was then that Birgir glared at Alaric through the rain and remembered the troublemaker and tormenter of his youth, the product of a jealous man and the goddess of the underworld— a senseless killer. 146

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He stalked forward, his gaze trained on Alaric. He would no longer back down to the boy who had mocked him all those years ago, the man who’d now turned his vicious nature on Teri. Alaric stalked around the pier heading in the direction of Thor, who cradled Teri’s limp form in his arms. “Each heartbeat brings her closer to death,” Alaric announced. He threw his dagger in the air and caught the guard in his hand, smiling in satisfaction of his boastful display. Birgir kept his eyes narrowed and trained on the wiry, black-eyed man. “Woot’s that supposed tae mean?” Alaric’s thin lips formed a wider smile as he reached into his coat pocket and produced a small vial. “I’ve traveled the world searching for you and your siblings, Birgir, and I’ve come across some fascinating items. Have you heard of ourari? The common name is curare, and this blade was coated in it.” Birgir glanced over his shoulder at Teri, who was clinging to Thor. She appeared dazed from hitting her head, but Birgir saw no indication she was being poisoned. He had no idea, however, how long it would take before it affected her. “You won’t smell or taste anything, but trust me, dearest uncle, it does work.” When Birgir turned to face Alaric, he found he’d slithered nearer. “You’re bluffing.” Alaric ignored Birgir’s words as he continued to walk 147

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toward Teri. “Only time will tell if I am indeed bluffing. You see, curare paralyzes the muscles. South American Indians have used curare for centuries in hunting both game and trespassers. It’s quite effective, I’ve heard. It’s a shame it’s not more widely used.” Birgir grit his teeth, a murderous look in his eyes. “When curare spreads through the bloodstream, the lungs shut down and in turn, the heart is deprived of oxygen. You know they say that death by suffocation is horrifying, one of the worst possible ways to die. Imagine not being able to breathe. It would cause immense suffering and fear, don’t you think? A most terrifying way to perish, in my opinion, and you should know by now I much enjoy seeing pain. Fortunately for you, this vial contains the antidote.” “I will heal her,” Birgir said, his voice a low growl. He knew he could save her just as he had the last time. Alaric raised his chin. “Ah, yes, the bastard son of a god rescuing the mortal. Have you forgotten, Birgir? You could very well save her life, but what happens to yours? Will you be able to survive suffocation? We both know you haven’t enough strength, regardless of your pedigree.” “I’ll save her,” he said through his teeth. “I have no doubt you are able to heal, yes, but there are consequences to your unnatural gifts.” Strutting about, Alaric kept his eyes trained on Birgir. “I remember when Erik was stabbed in the side during a fencing match, don’t you? I sliced him so bad that the skin flapped over, but who was there to rescue him? His dear little brother, 148

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snot-faced and weeping over seeing his brother in agony. You didn’t want to do it, but you felt terrible having left him all alone for the day.” Alaric examined his fingernails and shrugged. “How long did you feel his pain, Birgir? How long did you carry it before it finally faded?” Birgir made no remark. He recalled the swordfight that had taken place months after he had crossed the threshold between childhood and manhood. It was the first time he had realized he had an ability no one else possessed. Instinctively, he had covered Erik’s laceration with the palm of his hand and the injury had healed itself within seconds. The only indication that there had been bloodshed was a crimson puddle that puzzled their teacher, who’d said it was a miracle. As everyone crowded around Erik, Birgir limped away to his dormitory bed with tremendous pain throbbing along his hip. But when Birgir had rescued Teri from the ocean, he should have felt her cold and her bruises, but he had experienced little more than lethargy. He had been unafraid to feel pain for her or for his family. “That’s why you couldn’t save the bear cub, isn’t it? You filthy coward. You couldn’t tolerate the pain.” Darkness threatened to crowd Birgir’s vision and he stiffened, his heart hammering with anger. “It was you,” he said under his breath. “Of course it was me.” “I couldn’t help the beast because I didna know how, not because of cowardice. Who are ye tae name ma a coward when ye shot him and didna show your face?” 149

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Alaric’s arms rose from his sides. “Avenge the bear and the woman,” he said, his words tainted with sarcasm. “Show the bravery of a god’s bastard son.” Livid, Birgir stormed forward, but Alaric shook his head. Still fearing for Teri’s life, Birgir came to a halt just out of arm’s reach from his unscrupulous nephew. “I know you well, Birgir. You won’t take chances with the woman’s life. Give me the amulet and I will give you the antidote,” Alaric cajoled. “That is my offer. Accept it or watch her die—or be fool enough to kill yourself.” Birgir straightened and his hands balled into tight fists. His nostrils flared as he lunged for Alaric, who leapt back and landed on the balls of his feet. The smile remained on his face as he loped a safe distance away. “You’re wasting her life and my time,” Alaric said over his shoulder. He pointed at Teri with the tip of his blade. “Is she worth it?” “If anything happens tae her, by the Aesir in Asgard,” Birgir seethed. “I’ll tear your guts out and feed them tae ye.” Birgir ran forward, his eyes set on the vial of antidote. He barely heard Teri shouting to him as Alaric leapt onto his waiting boat and threw the vial into the ocean. “Birgir, don’t!” Teri yelled as she escaped Thor’s grasp and wobbled toward Birgir and Alaric. “Don’t listen to him.” Turning on his heel, Birgir caught Teri in his arms as she collapsed. The back of her head felt wet and sticky from her injury, but she was otherwise unharmed. He kept his hand over her wound, transferring his strength to her. 150

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“He cut you,” Birgir said as he lifted her chin and ran his finger along her throat. Before Teri could reply, Thor bellowed a thunderous battle cry and sprinted forward, his broadsword in both hands. Holding onto Teri, Birgir glanced over his shoulder in time to find Alaric suddenly upon him. With both arms around Teri, his protective efforts were met with a sharp, white-hot pain that filled his side and tore through his abdomen. *

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Territory was unaware of the boat speeding off into the open waters, or Thor standing helplessly at the end of the pier, unable to catch his malevolent grandson. Everything around her seemed distant, as though she were witnessing the world rather than a part of it. Her attention and heartache were with Birgir who lay on the rain-soaked pier with his knees drawn up to his stomach. His massive hands covered the wound where the dagger had impaled him, blood escaping through his fingers. Grasping his wrists, Teri attempted to tug his hands away from the injury, but she couldn’t grasp hold of him, his fingers slick with blood and his clothes stained dark red. “This is my fault,” she whispered as she knelt beside him. Her voice trembled, as did her hands as she uncovered Birgir’s wounded abdomen. His shirt was torn, the fabric gaping open to display his injury in the faint pier light. The knife had twisted, torn a wide, gaping hole only a surgeon could fix, and she sure as hell wasn’t a surgeon. 151

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Teri closed her eyes and shuddered at the gore, bile rising in her throat. Memories of her mother’s death and the sense of fear and loneliness she’d experienced began to haunt her. She couldn’t bear to lose him, not like this. Not when it was all her doing. Birgir grasped her hand and shook his head. “You’ve done nothing wrong, Selkie. I shouldna let ye leave the hotel.” Teri pursed her lips and felt her tears freely falling down her cheeks. She squeezed his hand tighter while his grip loosen, his body too weak to hold on much longer. He was bleeding out, she knew. The knife had either stabbed through or grazed an artery. Thor’s shadow loomed over their bodies. Teri looked up as he knelt beside his son and examined the deep wound. His expression was grim, his heartache evident in his clear blue eyes. “Where is the amulet?” Thor asked, his eyes steady on Teri. She reached a trembling, bloodstained hand into her jeans’ pocket and handed Thor the silver hammer, and he immediately pressed it into Birgir’s palm. “It doesn’t matter,” Birgir said, his voice low and breathing labored. “I cannae heal myself.” “Wh-what?” Teri stuttered. Birgir’s eyes fixed on her face. He offered her little more than a weak smile before his grasp on the amulet loosened and it fell onto his chest. Teri turned to Thor. “Let me try,” she said. He nodded in 152

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silence and rose to his feet. Her fingers were stiff and numb as she snatched up the amulet and sat on the wet ground beside Birgir. Leaning forward, she kissed his cold, pale lips and whispered to him, “Stay with me.” His breaths were shallow, but he returned the kiss and held his hand against her back. Every passing second was becoming a more difficult fight, and when his eyes closed, Teri feared that she had lost him. Heedless of the cold, she lay beside Birgir and draped his bearskin cloak over their bodies. She could see his faint breaths rolling in little wisps of steam from his parted lips as she grasped his hand and slid the amulet between their palms. She didn’t know why she did it, but the moment their hands surrounded the metal and stone, she felt familiar energy spreading in tendrils through her flesh and into Birgir’s, little bubbles like the ones she’d felt when he’d restored her to life. Her eyes closed, the sensation becoming uncomfortable, overwhelming her senses. She heard Birgir exhale hard and felt her mind being pulled into darkness. The very edges of her vision wavered with light, and her mind filled with the memory of the first time she saw him as she clung to a rock. Each pulse of their lives exchanged through the stone’s power flickered through her mind and into her consciousness. She felt him inside of her, his blood as her blood, his love as her love, his life as her own. The discomfort subsided and was replaced by ecstasy. She felt the warmth of his hands against hers, the taste of his lips, 153

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the joy of their coupling and the pleasure of their mutual satisfaction. Night and sky, rain and cold, fear and pain no longer existed. Teri had no idea if she lived or died. She knew for certain they had become inseparable, their lives and love joined. Nothing else mattered.

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CHAPTER 15 For two days Birgir watched Teri sleep. Thor had helped carry her into Birgir’s rowboat and had taken them to the little island in Mortimer’s Deep. Once he was certain that both Teri and Birgir were gaining strength, Thor said farewell to his son. He had business elsewhere, namely his half brother, who was still stalking somewhere out of sight. “Do you think Alaric will return here?” Birgir asked. Thor stroked his beard. “It is doubtful, my son. You have proven your loyalty as much as he has proven his cowardice.” He paused, frowning. “You are not the only one he seeks to destroy, my son. And you must remember he does not work alone.” 155

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Birgir placed his hand on his father’s shoulder. “I should have killed him.” With a half smile, Thor shrugged. “Could you have killed him?” “If he had murdered Territory, I would have searched the world for the bastard.” “When did you acquire the heart of a killer?” “I love her,” he answered sharply as though each moment with her had etched his into his heart and made it true. Their time together was short, Birgir realized, and he didn’t want to spend it arguing over whether he would have killed Alaric or not. “When will you return?” he asked, though he already knew the answer. Thor’s forlorn answer came as his eyes lowered. Birgir dreaded the worst, and as they stood before one another in silence, there was no need to confirm that father and son may never meet again. “Erik is worried about you,” Thor said as they walked outside and stood beneath the predawn light. “But as you might expect, he wears it as his sworn duty, not a burden.” “Pain in ma arse,” he muttered. “Birgir.” Thor clasped his son’s shoulders and stared him in the eye, the lightning bolts in his irises flickering in a spectacular show. Birgir had no doubt his father had looked upon him the moment he’d been born and cast a bolt of lightning into his son’s chest, giving him a heart of fire. “You need to be with them again, as a family. It is the only way.” Birgir smiled, a sense of contentment filling him now that 156

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he knew the fate of his older brother. “I will find him,” Birgir vowed. They clasped hands and Birgir reached for the amulet. “Keep it,” he said. “It will protect you should you face danger once more.” “Woot about Teri?” “You will not let her out of your sight, will you?” Birgir’s lips parted but he had no answer. He wouldn’t voluntarily give her up, but in the end it wasn’t his sole decision. Thor nodded. “If not in this lifetime, then the next,” he replied before a bolt of lightning delivered him anew. Once Thor was gone, Birgir returned indoors and added more fuel to the fire. He found Teri sound asleep, her complexion still sallow but a peaceful visage gracing her oval face. Removing his cloak, he draped it over her to keep her warm before retrieving a bottle of water and climbing into bed beside her. Birgir checked the wound on her side, the injury that matched his own, and kissed her forehead. “Ye shouldna risked yourself,” he whispered as he smoothed her hair back from her face. Her eyes opened for the first time in over forty-eight hours and she blinked, still groggy from her weakened state. When her eyes focused on his face, she smiled. Birgir noted the pink in her cheeks slowly replacing her ashen coloring, and he sighed in relief. Somehow they’d both survived—and now it was time to let her go. 157

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“Risk?” she said weakly, her voice hoarse. “I didn’t risk anything.” Birgir pulled her nearer and savored her warmth and sweet smell. He lay on his uninjured side and brushed his thumb over her cheek, grateful to look into her dark eyes again, if even for the last time. “Ye risked your life, Selkie,” he said. Teri inched herself closer and buried her face against his chest. She kissed him where the amulet had hung for as long as he could remember. “You are my life,” she murmured. Her hand found his and their fingers entwined. “I know that now.” Birgir brought her knuckles to his lips. He had felt every part of her inside of him the last time their hands had joined. They were marked, both bearing a scar that bound them, yet he knew that her home was thousands of miles away. “How are ye feeling?” he asked. “A little tired and thirsty.” Birgir helped Teri to sit up and handed her the water bottle and watched her gulp down the contents. “Easy, Selkie.” He grinned and rubbed her back. “I’ve noticed ye and the water didna agree.” She gazed at him briefly before planting a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know why or how, but I just…I understand.” Her gaze turned to the bear cloak and then back at him. “Your selkie skin.” She smiled. Birgir nodded. He clasped her hand between both of his and felt more joined to her than he had ever felt before. “I give 158

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it tae ye freely.” Teri gathered up most of it in her hands and placed it onto his lap. She shook her head. “I don’t want it.” His brow furrowed and face straightened until Teri sat on her knees and linked her arms around his neck. Her fingers slid under his collar as her lips pressed to his in a soft, sweet kiss, the kind a woman gave before she said her good-byes. “The cloak is important to you, Birgir. I can’t take it from you, but I want something that’s special to me.” Birgir placed his hands on her hips and deepened the kiss, tasting her sweet, familiar lips. She ran her fingers through his hair before he pulled back and searched her eyes. “Woot do ye want, Selkie? Anything in the world, and I’ll give it tae ye.” “I want you,” she whispered as he lay her down and prepared to spend the remainder of the day in bed. “I want you to come with me.” Birgir paused as he knelt over her. “Where?” “Minnesota,” she answered. He kissed her neck and felt her back arch to his caress. “How far is Minnesota from Texas?” Teri chuckled, and Birgir wasn’t sure if his goatee against her stomach had tickled her or if she found his words amusing. Lifting his head, he rested his chin on her abdomen and waited for her to answer. “Pretty far. You want to see your brother, don’t you?” “Aye, he and his wife have twins. I need tae make sure the wee ones take after her and not him.” With both arms around his neck, Teri drew Birgir to her. 159

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“Well, it’s hours away, but it’s closer than Scotland,” she murmured. *

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Craig promised to keep an eye on Birgir’s store while he searched for his brother in the States. “Ye realize I may not return?” Birgir questioned over a final whiskey in the little pub. Rugby served as background noise on the three television sets in the corner, filler for the crowd that had not yet arrived. Teri sat beside her man, perched on a barstool, with her hands concealed beneath her long sleeves. “If you didna return, I’d send all of your shite cargo tae…where are ye going again? Minnesota?” “Aye, Minnesota.” Teri chuckled at their pronunciation of her home state. Birgir shot her a playful warning glance, and Craig rolled his eyes. “Go find a dark corner,” he said as he walked around the bar and shook Birgir’s hand. Craig had his eyes set on Territory, whom he said he considered the better looking of the two, but Birgir pulled him in and clapped him hard on the back. “Thanks,” Birgir said. Craig feigned coughing before he bear-hugged Teri. “Ye watch him now, lass. Feed him, bathe him, and for God’s sake, clothe him at all times.” “Yes, yes, and no.” She grinned before she and Birgir 160

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headed out of the tavern and to the train station. *

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“I think you’ll like the plane ride,” Teri commented as the train approached the airport. She sat with her hand in Birgir’s and attempted to calm the anxiety etched into his face. Having flown all of her life, it came as second nature to her, but she sympathized with Birgir. His first time on a plane would be flying over the Atlantic, changing planes in New York and then traveling to Minnesota. Once there, they would find information about his brother and travel to Texas together to meet Erik and his wife. She’d promised to be with him every step of the way. “It’s only thousands of feet above the earth’s surface in a giant metal object filled with a hundred other travelers. How in the bloody hell does it stay up there?” he said as he gazed out the window. “I’ll explain the laws of physics over a glass of wine.” “Pleasant as it sounds, I’d just as soon take a bird.” “Are you nervous?” she whispered. Birgir looked down at her. “Woot do ye think I am, Selkie?” “Nervous.” She grinned. “Aye,” he replied. He held her closer. “But not nervous enough tae turn back.”

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GABRINA GARZA

Gabrina Garza is a Latina romance writer who lives in the Chicagoland Area. She’s dedicated to bringing readers fun, exciting stories with characters women (and men) can relate to. When not writing, she’s actively involved in animal rescue and donates portions of her royalties to rescue efforts. Her “pack” includes two children, five cats, and currently eight dogs (relax, she fosters abused and abandoned dogs)—plus one husband who is more trouble than the rest of them combined. She’d tell you she’s also a secret ninja with laser beams for eyes and kick-ass six-inch vinyl boots, but she’d be lying about the ninja part. You should visit her immediately because her web site promises all the virtual cookies you can eat. Her books are fat free and made with 100% natural ingredients and should therefore be consumed monthly in a literary sort of way. Her long-term goal is to take over the world and eliminate all forms of reality television. Until then, please save a life, spay and neuter! Check out her web site for all you never wanted to know: www.gabrina.com. *

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Don’t miss River Of Time: Dreamwalker, by Gabrina Garza, available at AmberHeat.com!

He is a half-man, half-god, the son of Thor and a mortal woman. From a world long forgotten, Erik Thorsson was saved from certain death, and now the man who can enter his wife’s deepest, most intimate dreams or darkest nightmares faces danger once more. When a nocturnal threat becomes flesh and blood, Erik feels his new bride pulling away from him. Can a man born a thousand years ago save his independent, career-minded lover? Or will the wolf that stalks her claim her as its mate— and finally end Erik’s life?

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