Page 52 of Shared By the Vikings

“And I care about you all too.”

A smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Good.”

“I have to go.”

“Be careful.” He dipped his head and set a soft kiss on her cheek.

She fluttered her eyes closed and for a moment let herself get lost in him. Then she pulled away. “I really should get going, while the tide is out.”

He nodded and released her.

Marching down the beach, she grabbed her arrow from beside the shell and poked it into the pouch on her belt that held four more arrows. She settled the bow over her shoulder. It was a good bow, reliable, like a dog set to watch the yard at night and rumble through its throat at every passing pied crow and scrawny hillside rabbit.

Without pausing, she strode to the headland on the south side of the cove. It was harder to pass than its neighbor. Even with the tide outward, the sea ankle-nipped the rocks. A constant sharp nail scratching a dry, sore patch of skin.

Spotting a potential path, Ingrid hoisted herself up onto a large, moon-smooth boulder. She leapt from that to another, the soft soles of her new boots advising her of the exact slant of the rock she landed on. From that she mountain-goated onto the next. The wind helped her abscond to the next and the next.

A gurgle of glee caught in her throat.

Absolute freedom.

An image of Bjorn Har sprang in her mind.

She had escaped a lifetime of marriage to an ugly old bear.

Memories of the longboat being buffeted by the storm rolled through her brain.

The hungry water couldn’t catch her now and fill her lungs, the way it had tried so hard to.

She’d escaped. She was a wolf who ran free.

It was as if the clouds themselves lifted her as she turned the corner of the dirt- and grass-strewn cliff base.

Before her stretched a beach the shape of the moon on its first night on show. Bigger than any sandy curve she’d seen before, it was littered with gulls strutting and pecking. To the right grassy dunes topped with long dancing grass extended inland.

Her hand twitched as she looked at the gulls.

I have to get closer.

“It’s not just birds you see.”

She turned.

Erik was at her side. He barely seemed out of breath, despite the fact she was panting with the effort of climbing.

He planted his hands on his hips, and a tiny glimmer of sweat sparkled on his sternum, catching on his chest hair. “It’s not just gulls. There’s some kind of shed in the distance. Come.” He took off, leaping more nimbly than he should for a big man.

Ingrid rushed to follow, the air whooshing in and out of her lungs.

Soon they were heading downward.

The rocks became treacherous; slimy, slippery, and weed-green. Ingrid slowed and used her hands to steady herself.

Erik did the same but was first to land on the deep sand, his huge strides meaning he could travel further and faster than her.

“Here.” He reached out.

She glanced at the dark, sopping beach around his ankles—seawater was pooling and bubbling as his feet sank—then took his hand.

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