Page 17 of Heart of Chaos (Chaosborn #1)
Chapter seventeen
Arik
The jotnar sword was exactly where I had left it on the stone floor of the abandoned outpost I brought Eisa to. My reirhold had loyally flown with me and set up camp, prepared to wait with me for however long it would take.
I had no intention of missing the Rifting. Baldur needed to be there to guide his mate through, and I needed to be there to protect Eisa. It would take far more than Einar’s threats to stop me from being by her side.
Tormund and Aegir were the biggest problem. Baldur had convinced them to follow by pulling rank when they both protested that we weren’t heading for the Peripheries.
As soon as we’d landed, a swift sword hilt to the head had rendered both men unconscious, and they were currently naked and tied up next to the fire to keep them from freezing to death. I was prepared to face Einar’s punishment when they told him what I’d done, but I couldn’t have the dragons running their mouths to Ragnar and alerting him before the Rifting.
I frowned at the men, wondering how much damage repeatedly knocking them out would do.
“You could just kill them, you know,” Revna mused, moving to stand beside me and crossing her arms as we regarded Einar’s watch dogs. “Make up some lie and say they died in the Odemark.”
I rolled my eyes toward her with what I hoped was a withering look. “Killing them would definitely end in my execution. Likely yours as well.” I stretched my neck, wincing when it cracked. “Better to face a lashing.”
“We’ll stand with you,” Revna said firmly. “Take the punishment together.”
“Not a fucking chance. You’ll tell Einar I ordered you to defy him and let me take the whip.”
“Always the martyr,” Jorgen drawled as he joined my other side. “What’s to stop Einar from executing all of us, anyway?”
“Numbers,” I replied tightly. “There aren’t enough drage for him to execute an entire reirhold.”
“But you—”
“I’ll be fine,” I insisted, cutting Jorgen a sharp look. “He can’t kill me, and you know it. Baldur would burn him to a crisp and he’s too scared of my father to risk angering him.”
Revna snorted in amusement, knowing my father would give zero shits if I died, but Jorgen frowned. “I fucking hope you’re right.”
I put a hand on his shoulder. “You need to be at the Rifting as much as I do. I won’t stand by and let Einar take that from you.”
Jorgen’s beard twitched as if he was smothering a grin. “So sure, are you?”
I huffed, the closest I could get to a laugh with Eisa alone in Ironholm and the Rift acting jumpy. It had been sending out waves of Chaos at random intervals all day, and it made the hair of my arms stand on end every time blue light pulsed over the cavern walls. “Baldur is sure. He believes unfailingly in the foretelling of the Norns to an almost terrifying degree.”
Jorgen nodded. “Sigurd too. I wonder when we will get to speak to these Norns. I have several questions.”
“As do I.” I rolled my eyes theatrically.
Don’t patronize me, Baldur drawled irritably while I regarded my reirhold.
Will my personal thoughts ever be free from you? I sighed into his mind as he stretched his claws.
Sometimes. He thought for a moment, and I didn’t love the maliciously teasing tone when he added, When you are being intimate.
Hearthmother above, I groaned at him, stifling my flush as Serrilda handed me a bowl of stew with a raised brow. I waved her off as Baldur chuckled in my head.
Ulla wants to know why you blush .
You’d better not repeat what you said to me, I warned him, hoping Serrilda’s bonded bronze wasn’t already telling her exactly what Baldur and I were speaking of.
Her brow arched higher as she glanced back at me, and I groaned internally. Fantastic. Thank you for that.
It is well known among the bonded mates . Ask Viggo and Geir. Their dragons only join in when invited.
I did my very best not to look at the two men who sat close next to the fire eating their stew over amiable conversation.
You expect to be invited?
Baldur rumbled a laugh, and this time it was Revna who glanced my way.
Stop projecting your thoughts to the entire reirhold. I hissed . They’ll lose all respect for me.
It is naive to think such thoughts could lose you their respect. We are speaking of nothing that is not obvious to bonded mates.
Yeah, well, I’m not one of them, I reminded him, feeling my cock ache uncomfortably. It had been a long damn time since I’d been with a woman, and the thought of that time coming to an end made my body react like it had when I was an adolescent boy.
Baldur laughed again, and I tried to bury him under a layer of mundane thoughts about weapons and armor and the location of the jotnar.
Tormund stirred in the corner, and Jorgen hit him again with the hilt of his dagger. “Poor bastard. He’s going to have one hell of a headache.”
“We’ll have to give them food and water eventually,” Revna added, shoveling stew into her mouth as if it were her final meal. “We can rouse them and pretend that they were attacked. Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll have amnesia.”
Ingmar laughed dryly as they scraped their bowl. “As if we ever get that lucky.”
Another ripple of Chaos shook the cavern, stronger this time than before.
Should we be worried about that? I asked Baldur.
Perhaps.
I waited for him to clarify, but he was clearly speaking with the other dragons and no longer paying attention to me.
“So what exactly is the plan?” Geir asked, wrenching himself away from his mate’s gaze. “Hole up here for a few days, find and kill some jotnar, and arrive in the nick of time for the Rifting as if we flew several hundred miles?”
“Unless you all have a better idea,” I agreed, grimacing at the painfully bland stew. We took turns cooking when we were on patrol, and while no one was particularly good at it, Serrilda was by far the worst. She narrowed her eyes at me as if she knew exactly what I thought of her work, and I proceeded to wolf the rest down without complaint. Food was food, and we needed all the fuel we could get out in the Odemark.
“Tomorrow we’ll hunt down the rest of the jotnar around here,” I added. Jotnar lived in large groups, and there was no way that the five who had attacked Eisa and me were the only ones in the area. I glanced at the recovered sword, which rested against the wall of the cavern. “I figure a collection of jotnar swords will be a convincing enough trophy.”
“Ten gold pieces say Jorgen stabs himself before the week is out,” said Ingmar.
“Fifteen,” Jorgen insisted, earning laughs from around the fire.
I smiled. My reirhold were more my family than my actual family was. It had taken time to build the bonds that tied us together, but they were unshakeable now.
I wondered how Eisa would handle them.
She’ll be fine, Baldur insisted, returning from whatever conversation he’d been engaging in with other dragons. No word on the Rifting yet, but the Chaos has been felt in Ironholm as well. We should be ready.
I nodded inwardly. I had witnessed two previous Riftings, and both had arrived exactly when Baldur said they would. I wasn’t sure why this one was putting me on edge.
Because she’s in this one. Baldur yawned, curling up in his cozy pocket of my mind. You care.
I didn’t reply as we laid out our bedrolls and established shifts for the watch. Baldur was absolutely right, and he already knew it.
I closed my eyes, attempting to get a few hours sleep before my watch in the early hours of morning.
My mind strayed to Eisa—to the slope of her neck and her dark hair and her eyes. They were the blue of the Rift itself.
Why the fuck had I kissed her like that?
She was probably furious with me, complaining to Branka about what an impertinent ass I was.
Despite the fact that—for the briefest moment—I’d felt her kiss me back.
My cock twitched and I growled internally, willing it to behave.
Baldur was usually right, which meant when the Rifting occurred in six days, Eisa would choose us. And then I’d have the rest of my life to make it up to her.
I had just drifted off when the entire world shifted. Chaos poured into the cavern, jolting everyone awake as our dragons raised a collective screech.
The world split in two as the Rifting began.
The silver bridge in my mind flared to life once more as two words in a familiar voice cut through the din.
I accept.