Page 71 of The Viking in the Vault
For a moment, I’m caught between sleep and wakefulness, wrapped in warmth, my body draped across Ragnar’s with one big arm around my shoulders. He’s so solid, his breath slow and steady against the top of my head. The heat of him sinks into me, his arm like a weighted blanket, almost comfy enough for me to drift off again…
Then Fenrik whines again, scratching lightly at the door.
Carefully, I ease Ragnar’s arm off me and slip from the bed, my feet barely making a sound as I cross the room. When I open the door, the skarnhound pushes his way inside, letting out a pleased huff before immediately bounding onto the too-small bed.
I stifle a laugh as he wedges himself between me and Ragnar, his massive head resting against my stomach as he lets out a satisfied sigh. Ragnar doesn’t even stir, sleeping at an incline with his antlers against the padded headboard. He’s so at ease, so comfortable, that even with Fenrik’s weight pressing into him, he barely shifts, just tightening his grip on the blanket with a low, sleepy noise.
I try to go back to sleep.
It doesn't work.
Instead, I lie there, running my fingers absently through Fenrik’s thick fur, my thoughts churning in a way I can’t seem to stop.
I’ve never felt like this before. Not really in my whole life…and definitely never with a man.
Safe. Warm. Like I belong.
I swallow hard, staring up at the ceiling. It terrifies me how much I like this, how much I want to just stay wrapped up in this moment forever. No research grant, no Eiskammer, no cryosleep pod or big, galaxy-shaking mysteries; just me and Ragnar and our dog, curled up in bed.
But nothing lasts forever. People leave. Promises break.
And I learned a long time ago that love—at least the kind that people dream about—isn’t real.
I must shift without realizing it, because after a moment, Ragnar stirs beside me. His body tenses slightly before he reaches for me only to find a massive, fluffy skarnhound instead. His antlers get in the way—I have this idle thought that I need a bigger bed—as he shifts to sit up and look down at me.
“You’re awake.”
Ragnar’s voice is rough with sleep, searching for me, trying to navigate around Fenrik’s enormous, sprawled-out form. His antlers brush the padded headboard as he straightens, his gaze flicking between me and the skarnhound wedged between us.
I force a small smile. “Fenrik demanded entry.”
Ragnar hums, his hand absently rubbing the hound’s side. “He does that.” He reaches across Fenrik to stroke my hair, and his expression softens. “But you—you couldn't go back to sleep?”
I hesitate. I don’t know how to explain what’s churning in my chest, how the quiet warmth of this moment makes me feel…wrong, like it’s something fragile that can’t possibly last.
I shake my head. “It’s nothing.”
His expression darkens slightly, like he’s not buying it for a second. He grunts at Fenrik, who grumbles in response but gets out of the way, crawling over to Ragnar’s other side. I let out a contented sigh as Ragnar takes me in his arms and kisses my forehead. .
“Elena,” he murmurs. “Talk to me.”
I let out a slow breath, eyes closed, face buried in Ragnar’s chest hair like I can shut out the rest of the world. “I was just thinking.”
Ragnar shifts closer, his presence heavy, warm, safe. “About what?”
“I don’t know.” I shake my head. “Just—things. My family. My mom. I miss her.”
It’s not a lie.
But it’s not the whole truth, either.
His thumb strokes over my hip in slow, soothing passes, but he doesn’t say anything, just waits. The silence stretches, and eventually, I find myself filling it.
“My parents got divorced when I was young,” I say finally. “And even before that…it was never really good between them. My mom did everything. My dad—” I cut myself off, my throat tightening. “He made a lot of big, sweeping promises, and then one day he just… left to be with someone else.”
Ragnar stills.
I let out a humorless laugh. “I don’t think I ever really needed him. Didn’t even like him much, if I’m being honest. I used to tell myself it didn’t matter.” I shake my head. “But I guess it does. More than I thought.”
