Page 28 of Alien Viking's Passion

She closed her eyes, enjoying the closeness to him. His warmth spread through her, and his slow heartbeat echoed through her whole body. God, she still liked him a lot. “It’s in the past. I’m sure you had a good reason. I’m new on this planet, and many things happen that I don’t understand. Perhaps I should have done things differently, too.”

“My mind is silent, but my heart tells me that whatever happened was because of me, and not you. There are some things in a prince’s life that- but it is of no concern.” He held her for a bit longer, then led her into the teepee. “The grass should be dry enough to lie on. I will keep the fire burning as long as possible. Or maybe…” He went back out into the rain and placed leafy branches over the fire, shielding it from some of the raindrops. Then he picked up the hot stones from the fire ring between two fresh branches, one by one, and placed them in a small heap inside the hut. “Maybe they will give off some heat still,” he said as he sat down.

Aretha curled up on the dried grass, making herself as comfortable as she could. The teepee smelled of freshly cut wood and vegetation. It was a good smell, and the leaves seemed to keep the rain out as it fell on them with a white noise. Outside the fire still flickered, but the light was getting weaker and weaker as it was slowly doused.

It had been a strange day. She’d fled from zombies, she’d been taken by trolls, and then steered a flying, wooden sled over a lake. An alien porcupine with foot-long spikes was sniffing around somewhere close. There could be zombies nearby, and she was sure the trolls were looking for her right now.

And right next to her sat a Viking prince with amnesia and a big sword.

She had probably never been safer.

God, she hoped Eira was all right...

10

- Craxon -

Aretha fell asleep within a few heartbeats of lying down.

It was too dark for him to see her face, but her breathing was so regular that he had no doubts.

It made him smile. She had been afraid all day, and she probably had good reason to.

He wanted to lie down beside her and feel her scent, her warmth, her softness. But that wasn’t right, if what she’d told him was true. He suspected what had happened. All his life he had been instructed to stay away from love. Indeed Craxon had been chosen to succeed his uncle as prince because he had a cold streak, and never let any girl near him until after the Trials. @Craxon the Cold@, some had named him. It was all because of Kofraks’ curse.

’Never seek the passion,’ he remembered his uncle admonishing. ’There must be no passion in you, Craxon. Not for any woman or man. You can never love. Love is not the first dangerousemotion. The first is passion, and you must not seek it or allow it to get close to you. You will know when it is close. For it will feel...wonderful. The woman or man will seem the only thing in the world that you want. But you must be cold. You must beice. You must be the ice on a frozen fjord. All of Ragnhildros rests on you. If you let passion melt you, everyone will drown.’

He clenched his eyes shut and tried to force himself to remember what she was to him. She was so familiar, so close in his mind. But he didn’t remember her. He also didn’t recall why he was in the mountains of Hjalmarheim in the first place. Why was he in a shortship? How had they both ended up here?

And why had he fled after their tryst? Aretha was immensely attractive in all her exotic ways, but he couldn’t imagine himself opening his heart to a female, alien or not. He knew the dangers of the curse.

It could have been that he had wanted a one-time thing, which he was allowed. And then she had misunderstood.

No, that didn’t fit. He never fled like that after a quick tryst. He had always been honorable about it and told the woman that after this, she would never see him again. That never seemed to be a hindrance to them.

He looked over at Aretha’s face, which he could now just about see as his eyes grew accustomed to the dark. So innocent, so relaxed, so open in sleep. One arm slung over her head, chest rising and falling, quick but calm.

Had he loved her, then? She was charming and caring and sweet, and she had a direct gaze with no coyness, no pretense. If he were to fall for someone, it could well be someone like her.

It was something big, something he could almost grasp, but not quite. He was not himself; both mind and heart were unclear and foggy like the forest outside.

He tried again and again, but the memories stayed just out of reach until his mind was exhausted from trying.

Well, he was here with her now, and Kofraks wasn’t.

The rain fell on the leaves and the ground outside. The fire had gone out, but the stones on the ground in the hut were still so hot he couldn’t touch them. The woods smelled of wet forest floor. It was a clean, pleasant smell.

It all made him drowsy, and he kept nodding off.

He lay down on his back, then winced as the sore spot at the back of his head touched the soft grass. Turning to the side, he placed his hand on the hilt of Krakhogg to be ready.

- - -

He woke up with a start, sitting up and fumbling for his sword.

But there was only a small iglsnutr, sniffing at the opening to the hut.

And there was Aretha, sleeping soundly—

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