Page 27 of Claimed By the Viking

Rutger said nothing more, slipping away as quickly as he’d appeared. Viggo had wished him gone, but left to himself, his mood immediately plummeted.

There was no point in friendship for those entirely lost.

Eldberg and the others might set sail for Skálavík, but Viggo would not be among them.

The place to which he was headed was a far more permanent destination.

CHAPTER 10

The thirty-ninth day of the men’s sojourn on the island

“Not much farther now,”Signy coaxed. “Mind your step here. It’s rather stony.”

Viggo uttered something between a grunt and a grumble, but allowed her to continue leading him upward.

The day was a little hot for such a hike, but Signy had been remiss in not thinking to bring Viggo sooner. Thankfully, Bothild had given no objection to the idea. Signy was increasingly worried about Viggo’s depressed spirits, but fresh air and exercise would do him good. The path they were taking would bring them into contact neither with the other islanders nor the working men.

Rules had long since been relaxed to enable three of the strangers to undertake useful jobs around the settlement, but Bothild was adamant they should never be allowed to meet as a larger group.

Reaching some shade, she paused. The fragrance of the forest was rich—that of lush foliage and bountiful blooms,fed by rivulets that ran down from the upper reaches of the mountainside.

The density of the flora was part of the reason why they’d located the hives in this area. At times, her mother complained of the effort required to climb the hill in order to collect the honeycomb, but Signy always gave the same answer—that her own legs were strong, and she’d no fear of making the trek.

Even when her father and brother had been with them, care of the hives had mostly fallen to her. They’d been busy with their own tasks, oft out fishing.

Signy peered up into the canopy. ‘Twas unusually quiet, without as much birdsong as one tended to hear on this stretch of the path.

“We’re at the place?” Viggo asked.

“Almost.” Taking his hand once more, she guided him to duck his head beneath some low-slung branches.

They pushed through ferns to where the narrow enclosure of the track opened up, revealing the meadow where the hives were situated. Looking across the flower-strewn expanse, she felt her heart lift. ‘Twas a special spot and afforded a good view of the bay.

Shielding her eyes, she cast her gaze across the vista to the glittering sea, lapping azure-blue upon white sands. Tiny figures ran across the expanse left by the receded tide—the children of the island, no doubt hooting and calling to one another, though Signy and Viggo were too elevated to hear them.

‘Twas a view she loved, made all the better by the fact that few others ventured so high above their settlement. Signy gave a contented sigh, lifting her face to the light breeze flowing inland.

“Come! We may eat the victuals I’ve brought.” She squeezed Viggo’s hand.

Choosing a place half in sun and half in shade from a lone tree growing in the meadow, she brought out the cloth she’dpacked into her shoulder sack and, having laid it over the grass, encouraged Viggo to sit. She set out cheese and fruits, finally unstoppering the mead she’d collected from Grethe that morning.

Putting it to his lips, Viggo exclaimed at finding something far tastier than water, then took a long draught.

“I’d like to meet this cousin of yours.” He passed the flask back to Signy. “Her mead is the best I’ve tasted, and all the more so after hauling myself up here.”

“Perhaps you will yet.” Signy directed him to the platters before taking a sip of the brew herself. “Though, I warn you. Grethe is more likely to give you some sort of tongue-lashing than a cordial welcome. You’ll need to placate her with plenty of compliments.”

“A vixen, eh? While you’re the soft dove of the family.” Running his fingers across the space between them, he found her hand and placed his own over it.

Warmth filled Signy’s heart. Viggo continued to share his body by night but, by day, he sometimes barely uttered two words. She’d near given up hope of breaking his melancholy.

When they’d eaten their fill, she pressed upon his chest, urging him to recline. “Rest now. Put aside any worrisome thoughts.”

Only momentarily did he seem to consider arguing. The weariness he carried with him appeared to ease when he closed his eyes.

His face was one she’d come to know better than any other—his brow and jaw strong, his nose and cheekbones elegant, and his mouth so sensual.

Signy loved looking at him, could not do so without wanting to caress that cheek and to bring her lips to meet his. With the warmth upon her back and the mead softening her senses, thefamiliar desire was stirring. She wanted to be naked, to roll atop him and take him inside.

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