Page 40 of A Curse Carved in Bone
“I had a choice.”
“Not a good one,” I replied, ignoring the part of me, deep down, that screamed in defiance. “You didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do, so I have no right to be so angry. Especially given you are potentially the only person who can help me.”
Bjorn’s brow furrowed. “Exactly what did my mother say to you, Born-in-Fire? Because you do not sound like yourself.”
I believed that, because for many long days, every word that I’d said had been nasty, selfish, and spiteful. And what had it earned me besides more misery? The chance at a good life was hanging before me and instead of reaching for it, I’d spat on it for the sake of my pride. My eyes prickled because I felt so empty. So alone.
“I didn’t just swear an oath to serve Snorri,” I confessed. “I swore to his blood, which means I also swore to you. That’s why I can speak to you about it, because I also swore to silence.”
“What all did you promise?” he asked. “When we were in Grindill, after Steinunn’s performance, you said that you and Ylva had made a deal that Snorri would never touch you.”
“Not to serve anyone else.” I frowned. “Allegiance. Protection. Silence.”
“What was the exact phrasing?” When I didn’t answer, he added, “Well?”
“I’m thinking.” But I’d been nearly as drunk when I’d sworn the oaths as I was now.
Bjorn exhaled an aggrieved breath. “Freya, a blood oath is something you should remember the details of!”
My cheeks burned. “I do remember the details. Give me a moment to recall the phrasing.”
Staring at the floorboards of the sauna, I dragged myself back into that awful moment in Snorri’s bedroom. The basin with our bloodsmeared into runes around the edge. “I vow to serve no man not of this blood. I vow allegiance to him who is of this blood,” I whispered softly. “I vow to protect, at all cost, him who is of this blood. I vow to speak no word of this bargain except to him who is of this blood.”
Bjorn drew in a shaky breath.
I bit my bottom lip but then forced myself to finish. “Snorri thought that a child would create the same form of loyalty, and I would have promised anything to avoid that.” Laughing because the alternative was to cry, I added, “I also really did not want to have sex with Snorri.”
“I’m sorry.” Bjorn leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, pressing his fingers to his temples. “I didn’t want you to go with him. Wanted so desperately just to kill him that night and be done with it, but I had promised my mother I wouldn’t. Still, I hated myself for letting him take you. Was so angry I could barely see straight, which was why I left the great hall.”
I wondered if everything would have changed if he’d decided differently. If he’d flipped me over his shoulder and stolen me away.
Except that I knew I wouldn’t have gone easily. That I’d have fought him out of fear for what would happen to my family. Bjorn hadn’tallowedme to walk into that room with Snorri and Ylva. I’d chosen to do so myself.
I crossed the small space between us. I didn’t want to feel this way, miserable and angry. What I wanted was to go back to the moment when Bjorn had held me in his arms and I’d been so happy. And the only thing preventing that wasme.
Bjorn looked up, the light from the fire casting shadows across his face, but I could see the want in his gaze, and it stirred the embers of my own desire. I trailed a finger down the side of his face, the scrape of stubble against my skin making my core tighten as I cupped my hand around his cheek.
He leaned into my touch, eyes closing. “I want you so badly.” His voice was quiet, and I wasn’t certain whether he spoke to me or himself. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do to win you back.”
I felt unsteady, wanting this but also not ready to want this. Notready to let go of my hurt.What do you gain by digging in your heels and refusing to forgive?Saga’s voice whispered in my head, and wanting to drive away the shame her words made me feel, I lifted my nightdress and cast it aside.
Bjorn’s eyes drifted over my naked form, but instead of claiming me, he whispered, “Freya, this isn’t what you want.”
I straddled his legs, silencing his protests with a kiss. The touch of his lips to mine was a bolt of lightning through my body. My bare toes curled against the wooden floor and a flood of desire filled my core. I slid my hands over the slick skin of his shoulders, tasting him even as I unknotted the tie holding back his hair, burying my fingers in the silken strands.
He was already hard, his cock pressed against my sex, and a whimper tore from my lips. Every part of my body wanted him. Needed him. But my heart felt like it was trembling inside my chest as I whispered, “I want you to fuck me.”
“Because you’re drunk.” His teeth caught my bottom lip, even as his hands gripped my hips, moving me along his length. “You’re still angry with me.”
I was. But my justification for my rage was so badly eroded that it was ready to collapse. And I was so desperately afraid of how I’d feel without it. “I don’t want to feel like this.” Moisture dripped down my cheeks. Not steam but tears. “Make me not feel like this.”
Instead of driving into me and filling the void, Bjorn’s lips pulled away from my throat, his hands stilling. “No. Not like this.”
The hurt of his rejection was a battering ram to my stomach. Rather than allowing it to drown me, I fed it to my rage. “You’ve taken away so much from me and you won’t even give me this?”
The ground trembled.
Hissing softly between his teeth, Bjorn slid his hand up my throat and caught hold of my chin. He forced my face sideways until the lamp illuminated my eyes. With a snarl, he flipped me over his shoulder and carried me out of the sauna.
