Page 34 of Claimed By the Viking

Despite everything, all that they’d shared—including this devastating, tumultuous coupling—he couldn’t tell her that he loved her. Whatever was between them, he wasn’t capable of believing in a future.

My love isn’t enough.

‘Twas as if he’d punched her in the stomach.

He’d given up, and nothing she said or did mattered.

Viggo’s self-loathing had won.

CHAPTER 13

The fortieth day of the men’s sojourn on the island

“Elin and I will wait outside.”Signy seemed to hesitate before touching his shoulder. “Call to me if either of you need… anything.”

Viggo made no response. ‘Twas bad enough submitting to Elin’s inspections, which did nothing but confirm what he’d already accepted. Worse by far having an audience while he suffered the indignity.

And Rangvald, of all people!

As if having that cur leer over him would make him feel better about any of this. The women had surely connived to bring him here, for he couldn’t imagine Rangvald having come of his own volition.

The gods had left him struggling alone in the dark. Now, they sent foes to goad and torment him.

As Rangvald settled on the stool opposite his own, Viggo caught scent of him—pungent and earthy, as if straight from a shared bed, though there was a sweeter note overlaying the masculine tang. Viggo’s nose was sharper these days, and heknew that fragrance; ‘twas the same milk-and-honey soap Signy used for their bathing.

It irritated him, though ‘twas an idle thought. Signy made the soap in batches and traded it with every household. He’d detected the same when Rutger had called upon him and Eldberg.

“So, this is what you’re reduced to! Blind and useless.” Rangvald’s tone was mocking.

Of course, Rangvald knew of his impairment. He wouldn’t have needed to witness Elin’s assessment. Doubtless, Eldberg had shared news of his plight, jibed about it, perhaps. ‘Twas likely why Rangvald had come in the first place.

“Why are you here?” Viggo was determined to keep his voice even. He’d still some pride. Rangvald wouldn’t have the satisfaction of thinking he could rile him.

“I had to see you for myself.” Rangvald sneered. “Had to see how low you’ve fallen. Still, I struggle to believe what my eyes tell me.”

“Just. Go.” Viggo had endured enough. Rangvald’s mocking references to his lack of vision were not to be borne.

“In good time.” Rangvald made no effort to conceal his glee. “Eldberg says you have a woman, but how can that be? Who’d want you in this state?”

Viggo itched to leap forward and place his hands about Rangvald’s throat. He didn’t need eyes for that—to choke the breath out of the churl.

“The poor wench,” Rangvald went on. “Running around, tending to your needs, and getting little in return. You may as well be dead.”

“You know nothing of it.” It mattered not that Viggo had oft told himself the same, nor that Signy was possibly in earshot. Rangvald had no right to judge. No right to an opinion on what passed between him and Signy.

“I know the women here have struck some deal with one another.” Rangvald’s voice lowered. “I know they’re keeping secrets and that they can’t be trusted.”

“What secrets?” Viggo knew Rangvald was baiting him, but he’d long sensed that Signy was hiding something. If Rangvald knew anything, he wanted to hear it.

“Ask your wench.” Rangvald chuckled. “If you’ve managed to master her, she should yield to your query.”

“I’m askingyou.” Viggo spat the words. ‘Twas impossible to withhold his anger, having to sit here, listening to such ridicule.

“And I say ask the wench!” Rangvald was so close, Viggo could smell whatever he’d been eating upon his breath. “If you can’t bring her to heel, then she’ll be better off without you. Send her my way. I’d wager she could use a real man! I’m sure our jarl will take her if she fails to please me.”

“Nay! She’ll never be yours!” A roaring filled Viggo’s head.

The thought of Signy with any other man made him want to hurl deep from his stomach, but the notion of Rangvald claiming her or Eldberg…

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