Page 31 of Claimed By the Viking

Viggo remained still, his lips pursed to a thin, hard line.

Ridiculous, stubborn man! Why are you so unyielding?

“I tell you I love you, and you give me no reply. You wish to be obstinate, to deny what’s between us? Lie here then and think on all I’ve said!”

Rising to her feet, Signy stalked away.

How canhe be so pig-headed?

As if I haven’t done enough! What more does he need?

Uncaring of the taller grasses scratching her legs, Signy strode across the meadow. She’d paused long enough to snatch up her undershift but not hergunna. She’d been too eager to put distance between them.

He should stew awhile, then he’ll see what he’s throwing away.

Angrily, she swiped away her tears.

How dare he act as if our time together means nothing!

Unconsciously, she’d let her feet take her in the direction of the hives. Of course, she’d been planning to come this way before they departed the meadow, but she needed the contents of her bag to do anything useful. The bees were accustomed to her and rarely stung, but she liked to make sure she was covered, nonetheless. That included donning a headdress with some gauzy material draped over the top to protect her face.

She halted, squinting over at the ten wooden boxes raised up on stilts. Usually, they were abuzz with insects passing in and out through the downward-sloping slats. Today, she couldn’t discern much activity at all.

Had they discovered plants coming richly into bloom somewhere far off and were occupied there? Even so, she’d have expected a good portion of the colony to remain, guarding the hives.

Taking a step closer, something pricked underfoot, and she let out a yelp.

That’s what I get for walking off without my boots!

Gingerly, she balanced on one leg, lifting up her other to inspect the sole of her foot. A small red patch was evident, surrounding a thorn of sorts. Except it wasn’t a thorn at all, but the stinger of a bee.

Scrutinizing the ground, she saw it—the black-and-yellow striped creature was trembling in the final moments before death. In treading upon it, she’d inspired the fatal defense in which the bee had speared her skin, tearing off its lower abdomen in the process.

Kneeling, she scooped up the insect.

I’m so sorry. That was clumsy of me, but what were you doing crawling upon the earth?

A faint buzz drew her attention to another bee lying prone. Scanning about her, she counted three more. Two had already ceased moving. The other hovered a little, rising from the ground lethargically to cling to some cow parsley.

It wasn’t unusual to find an ailing lone bee upon the ground, but strange for so many to be gathered together, all in the same sad condition.

Signy glanced about but could detect nothing out of order.

Another thought struck her. Mightn’t there be more scattered about the radius of the hives? It would explain why there hadn’t seemed to be much activity. She set off again, being careful to pay attention to where she stepped.

Approaching the nearest of the hives, she counted another twenty bees—most in a subdued state and several unmoving. A few half-hearted stragglers bobbed about the wooden structure, looking disoriented.

Trepidation stabbed at Signy.

What does this mean?

CHAPTER 12

“Viggo!”Racing back the way she’d come, Signy called out and was reassured to see him bolt to his feet. Reaching where he stood, she looked anxiously into his eyes. “Are you feeling alright? Not light-headed or nauseous or… anything at all?”

“Nay…” he answered warily. “Why should I be? The mead was hardly strong enough to have such an effect.”

“No, of course not.” Her relief was immense.

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