Page 49 of The Viking in the Vault
I swallow, shifting in my seat. She’s not wrong.
My mind flashes back to Ragnar—to the way he looks at me, the way his body moves toward mine like he knows something I don’t. It’s not just attraction, not just interest. It’s like…he’s already made up his mind.
And I have no idea what to do with that.
I clear my throat. “Okay. Fine. What was it like for you?”
Page leans back, considering. “You mean, what was it like realizing the world’s last Borean decided I was it for him?”
I nod.
She snorts, shaking her head. “That’s not exactly how it happened. Like…the way that Skoll is acting with you would have been shocking coming from Thorne.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Mmhm.” She exhales, tapping her fingers against the side of her cup. “I spent weeks chasing him down while he did everything in his power to convince me I was wrong. That we weren’t mates. That it was just my imagination. He had every excuse in the book—he was too old, too dangerous, too complicated. And I was…” She shrugs. “Persistent.”
I blink. “So he didn’t want?—”
“Oh, he wanted me.” She smirks. “That was never the problem. The problem was that he thought he shouldn’t. That I deserved someone who hadn’t spent centuries watching his people tear themselves apart. That I should be afraid of him, because he was powerful, because he knew things I didn’t.”
She pauses, biting her lip.
“I started off just wanting to learn from him,” she admits. “That was the whole deal. He was the most valuable historical source in existence, and he was the only one who could teach me what I needed to know. I thought that was all it was.” She huffs a laugh. “Turns out, I was wrong.”
Something in my chest tightens. “But…how did you know?”
She tilts her head, considering. “How? The real question isn’t how I knew.” She watches me, dark eyes sharp. “It’s when.”
I frown. “When, then?”
Page’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Right away.”
The words settle between us like embers in the hearth. I press my lips together, fingers curling around my cup. Because…that is what’s happening with Ragnar, isn’t it?
He knew right away…and maybe I did too.
I stare at her. She sips her coffee like she hasn’t just said something that makes my stomach flip.
I clear my throat, looking anywhere but at her. “I mean, it’s not?—”
Page smirks. “Uh-huh.”
“I barely know him,” I protest.
Page shrugs. “And yet, you haven’t run, even though this is totally freaking you out”
I go to argue, but…she’s right. I haven’t run. And I am absolutely freaking out.
Page watches me like she knows exactly what’s going through my head. And…maybe she does. I don’t know the full extent of what Borean bonds mean, or what it’s like to be mated to someone with their abilities, but I’d be a fool not to assume she’s picking up something from me.
Even if she can’t read my mind, it would make sense; anyone in this situation should be losing it, and at heart, I am a planner who hates things that take me by surprise.
I’ve spent my whole life making careful, logical decisions. My research, my career, my grants—all of it has been meticulously planned. I don’t take unnecessary risks. I don’t make impulsive choices.
But…Ragnar looks at me like he already knows me. Like he’s already made up his mind.
And maybe the terrifying part isn’t that he knows.
