Page 13 of Thor

"None shall harm you while you sleep, mistress. I am your protector, as promised," he said, hoping she heard him. And there he remained, ever watchful.

THIRTEEN

Strong arms lifted her up, so warm she could feel the heat of him even through her snow gear as he cradled her against his chest. She heard the rumble of his voice as he said something to her that she didn't quite catch. She could only make out one word – protector. It was enough to make her smile. She was definitely dreaming now. She shouldn't have been reading romance novels before bed, because when they inspired dreams like this one, she didn't want to wake up, even when she knew it was a dream.

"Sibyl! Sibyl!"

Sibyl clenched her eyes shut against the bright light Jorunn was shining right on her face. "Unless your name is Thor and you have more muscles than a Hemsworth, all the better to carry me away to your castle in the sky, go away."

Jorunn, being her usual insouciant self, just laughed. "You can go back to dreaming about hot Vikings as soon as you tell me where and how you got that."

"Got what?" Sibyl grumbled, sitting up. That had been a mistake. Her hangover should have been gone, but now her head throbbed worse than this morning.

"And that!" Jorunn said, pointing at Sibyl's hurting head.

"Jorunn..." Sibyl began. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Well, first, that epic wool blanket that I've never seen before, which you couldn't possibly have carried in your backpack here. And then there's the bloodstained bandage wrapped around your head. Even if you have been fighting Vikings in your dreams, it still doesn't explain that."

One hand went to her head, while the other stretched out to stroke the blanket. Which wasn't a blanket at all, but a cloak, for it tapered at the top, where it was attached to some sort of hood. It looked like something a hard-core reenactor would wear at one of the medieval fairs back home.

Or a Viking warrior, a thousand years ago, her traitorous mind whispered.

Jorunn tugged at the bandage and dropped it in Sibyl's lap. "I suppose you're going to tell me that's not your blood, but someone else's."

Sibyl winced as she touched the part of her head that hurt most. Dark, clotted blood clung to her fingers. "No, I think it's mine. I slipped and hit my head earlier when I...when I went to the bathroom," she lied. She did remember hitting her head. She just didn't remember getting back to her tent.

Unless she hadn't dreamed being carried...

"And I suppose Thor himself materialised, carried you back here, and gave you his cloak as a souvenir so you'd know he was real?" Jorunn asked, almost as if she could read Sibyl's mind.

"I don't remember," Sibyl said honestly. Because a dream was just that – a dream. There couldn't possibly have been a real Viking protector who'd carried her all the way back from the cairn to her tent. How had he even known it was her tent?

This had to be a prank. Whoever had planted the Addams Family hand had brought her back here, and covered her in the cloak, which had come here in one of the packhorses' panniers. There was no other possible explanation.

Sibyl climbed out of bed. She was still wearing her winter coat. Not even when she was drunk had she ever gone to bed wearing that. Someone else had definitely put her to bed, and she was going to raise hell when she found out who.

It couldn't be Nik, who must have been born without a sense of humour, and Lara and Karl were too busy managing and leading the expedition, respectively, to have time for pranking anyone. It must be one of the other expeditioners she didn't know. Well, she knew their names were Lars, Andreas and Fredrik, but she didn't know one from the other, they all looked so alike.

Just because they were tall and blonde didn't mean they had the right to manhandle her, especially when she was unconscious. If she ever found out who'd done this, she was going to ask Callie for a curse to make all his golden hair fall out.

Whoever he was, he was probably standing outside, pissing himself laughing.

Well, she was done being some idiot's laughingstock. Sibyl bundled the cloak up in her arms. "I'm going to the bathroom," she announced with as much dignity as she could muster.

"Don't hit your head again, then. Or I'll have to get Nik to help me carry you back here. I definitely couldn't do it myself," Jorunn said.

Which definitely ruled out Jorunn as the prankster. It had to be one of the men. But which one?

Luckily, Sibyl had lived long enough with Callie and Octavia to hold her own against a man much bigger than she was. She might not possess all of Callie's or Octavia's unique skills, but they didn't know that.

Sibyl stepped out of the tent. "Whoever owns this cloak, show yourself right now, or I'll burn it to ash," she announced, in a voice she was happy to hear didn't tremble at all.

FOURTEEN

Thor could not disobey a direct order, issued with such authority. He dropped to one knee before her. "You appeared cold, mistress, and you had no cloak of your own, so I covered you with mine. I realise it is not fine enough for a lady like yourself, but it was all I had, and I am sworn to protect you in all things, even from something as mundane as the cold air."

He could feel her stare boring into the top of his head. Did he dare look up? If she intended to strike him down, it was better to see the blow coming than to wait for it in ignorance. Then at least he might look upon her face in all its beauty and...

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