Page 45 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

“Well, usually you have to pay with your soul.”

Absolon turned mournful eyes towards him, hard to see in the dim light but clear enough. And the sadness in them gripped Ragnar’s throat.

“Absolon, tell me what really happened. I want to know.”

“You won’t believe me.”

“I will. Whatever you tell me, I’ll believe you believe it to be true.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“No, but for your own good—”

“Since when do you care what’s good for me?”

“I’m sorry. I see that whatever has happened to you has been a lot to bear. You might say you’ve not been lonely out here, but I can see it, Sol. This has taken its toll. Give me your burden, otherwise my death will be as insignificant as the deaths of those men.”

He screwed his eyes shut. “Those deaths weren’t insignificant. Each one hurt.” He opened his eyes. “You would be far better suited to this life than me.”

“What life? I could not be where you are. My soul is too restless for it.”

“And I know that more than most.” He turned away. “And I’ll know it even more than you when this is over.”

“Please, Sol, tell me what happened.”

Absolon wrenched the door open and stalked out. Ragnar could hear him out there, marching up and down, his breathing getting heavier and heavier. Another fit was coming to take him but there was nothing for him to attack.

“Absolon! Come back!" He strained against his manacles, getting as close to the door as possible. “Don’t let the fit control you. Let me help you.”

And he wanted to. He should have welcomed this discomfort and Absolon’s decline, especially if it turned into a fight. He might be able to get the keys from him or wring some advantage from the situation, but the sight of Absolon’s pain had quelled those desires and stoked another. He wanted to soothe the beast.

“Don’t give into it! Come back to me!"

Silence.

Ragnar’s blood beat through his arteries.

“Sol?”

Absolon roared and charged into the cell, his hackles were up, his muscles bulging, his eyes wild and menacing. Ragnar swallowed hard and braced as Absolon’s whole weight bore down upon him and crushed him into the wall. His spine cracked, his body jerked with the impact, and Absolon’s slavering frothing mouth was close to his. He knew better than to look him in the eyes.

“Sol, please,” he said softly. “What happened to you?”

“Liar! Oathbreaker!"

“Yes, Sol, I’m all of it. I’m sorry.”

“You did this to me. You cursed me with this.”

“I know. I can see it. Let me help you.”

Ragnar put a hand on his shoulder, but Absolon snapped his jaws at him and threw Ragnar back against the wall, knocking the air from his lungs. He steadied himself, tried again, shaking, and this time Absolon didn’t push him away. A cornered beast, he only wanted to bite, but if he expected to be struck, Ragnar had to make him believe the opposite.

He put his other hand on Absolon’s other shoulder, earning a growl from the berserker. Ragnar still didn’t look in his eyes, but he felt the hot breath shooting out of Absolon’s nose. Slowly, he brought his hands closer together, smoothing along Absolon’s shoulders and up to the base of his neck. He stopped, waiting to be thrown off or struck.

Meeting no resistance, his hands slid up Absolon’s neck. The berserker bucked. Ragnar held on, shushed him carefully, then hummedHitta mig på morgonen. Absolon bristled but the fit eased. Ragnar’s hands grew hot, warmed by the heat of Absolon’s blood. Absolon’s hands were pressed hard against the wall beside Ragnar’s ears, tensing and relaxing and trying to dig their way through the stone. Ragnar continued humming, gliding his hands up to Absolon’s burning cheeks. Praying he wouldn’t be rejected and punished for his boldness, he looked into Absolon’s eyes and sank into the fear and pain filling them.

“Give it to me, Sol. I can take it. All of it.” Ragnar carefully touched his lips to Absolon’s mouth.

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