Page 6

Norns, he was doomed. He had the blasted chieftain of the Vanir right in front of him, naked and vulnerable, ready to drown the man in his own bath like an unwanted puppy. Why did he have to be disturbed right now? And what was Hrungnir playing at?

Lifting his hand a little higher, Hakon obscured his face from view the best he could.

“I’m Hrungnir, Prince Rune. I’m the captain of the ship that brought your bride here.”

Not-Prince-Rune narrowed his eyes. Hakon had to admire the man’s confidence. It didn’t seem to bother him at all to face all these warriors while still inside his bath, naked and dripping wet. He even gallantly shielded Hakon from their gaze with his body.

Frantically, Hakon searched for a way out. But all he could think of was the graceful way the boy had moved in the water, how he had dived towards Hakon with one quick stroke. Could the Vanr indeed be a son of Vellamo and Ahti? Could Gudrun’s talk about Vanaheim being ruled by powerful volur , ancient water goddesses, be true after all?

“Thank you for bringing my betrothed here safely,” the boy said. He sounded amicable enough, but there was something dangerous lurking behind his friendly facade that sent a shiver down Hakon’s spine.

Hrungnir didn’t seem to care about the tension suddenly filling the room. He took a step closer to the basin.

“I’m bringing greetings from my Lord, Prince Brogar,” he continued. “He has a wedding present for you. Valuable information—”

Hakon knew that he’d been betrayed before Hrungnir had finished his sentence. He reached for the dagger he’d stashed under a towel at the edge of the pool, but it was too late.

“Not so fast,” the boy interrupted. “I promised my betrothed a proper bathing ritual, not to be gawked at by a horde of strangers. Out with you. All of you!”

“But, Talvi—” Frekegar was turning as red as his hair. “This is important.”

“No. At this particular moment, the well-being of my betrothed is of importance. Nothing else. Wait outside.”

“But—” Frekegar and Hrungnir tried to object, but they were both cut short.

“Wait. Outside.” The power the words were laced with made Hakon shudder. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to refuse were he addressed in such a manner.

“Fine,” Frekegar gritted out. “I’ll wait right in front of these doors.”

“Suit yourself.” The boy—Talvi, Frekegar had called him—sounded unbothered.

The guards retreated, pulling Hrungnir with them, and for a moment, Hakon thought that by some strange twist of fate, he was granted another chance.

“Your princess is a traitor! You’ve Hakon Bloodaxe in your midst!”

Closing his fingers around his hidden blade, Hakon surged forward. A precise cut to the boy’s throat should do the trick. Hakon didn’t fancy killing him, but it couldn’t be helped. He’d make it quick.

The boy turned to Hakon, raising his hand in a futile gesture to protect himself. It was perhaps best Hakon finished him off now, for such a meek creature could not survive on the throne for long.

Crashing into an invisible barrier, Hakon was pushed back against the pool’s edge.

What in Hel’s name?

He was a Jotunn warrior, his whole body covered in magic-repelling runes. No spell should’ve been able to stop him.

The boy flicked his wrist.

Something curled around Hakon’s body, a cold, unyielding touch. He was lifted out of the water and thrown on the hard floor; the impact knocking the breath out of him. The entire chamber erupted in screams as three guards wrestled Hrungnir to the floor, while others hurried to overwhelm the rest of the Jotunn delegation.

Groaning in pain, Hakon tried to get back to his feet. His chest stung with a freezing touch, and he collapsed again.

“Seize Bloodaxe!” Frekegar shouted.

The guards closed in on him, and Hakon gripped his dagger tighter. He only managed to rise into a crouch with difficulty, but he wouldn’t go down without a fight.

“No, you don’t,” Talvi growled, and Hakon was pushed down again by the invisible, icy touch.

Hakon gasped. It was suddenly hard to breathe. With the stunned detachment of the defeated, he watched Talvi rise from the bath. Rivulets of water ran down his body, and Hakon’s gaze was involuntarily drawn from the man’s muscular chest down to his dark pubic hair and half-hard cock. Battle, fear, danger, and victory—all these things could arouse a man, Hakon knew. But the sight made a shiver of something run down Hakon’s spine.

“Greetings, Prince Hakon.”

With a lazy hand gesture, the boy made a towel wrap around his hips. Confidently, he walked over to where Hakon was sprawled on the floor, leaving wet prints in his wake. Gesturing to his warriors to stay back, he didn’t seem to doubt for one second that his spell would hold.

Gritting his teeth, Hakon pushed against the power holding him down. He’d never experienced anything like this. Usually, his tattoos swallowed any spell directed at him without Hakon even noticing, but now he was immobilized, a touch like ice tracing every swirl of ink on his body.

“Now, did your father send you to kill me, or are you here in your sister’s stead?” The boy grinned as if he dealt with assassination attempts every day. Hakon felt the irrational urge to chastise him for his recklessness.

But instead of doing the sensible thing and putting a knife between Hakon’s ribs, Talvi crouched down in front of him and gently brushed Hakon’s tousled hair away to get a proper look at his face.

Hakon had no idea what to say; the heat of shame flushed his face. What a despicable picture he must make; defeated, his body tangled in the flimsy fabric of a woman’s shawl. How could it have come to this? How could he have failed even this simple mission to kill an unsuspecting boy?

Curling his fingers around Hakon’s jaw, Talvi forced him to lift his chin. However, his touch was surprisingly gentle.

“Hakon,” he breathed. “It’s really you.”

“Y–yes?”

A soft smile lit up the boy’s face, giving him the appearance of someone who’d been surprised with a precious gift. Oh, Hakon had been a fool. He thought he’d been so clever. But this strange young man had seen right through his ridiculous disguise, hadn’t he?

“What are you doing here?” Talvi asked softly, almost as if Hakon was an intriguing riddle to him.

His fingers skimmed featherlight over Hakon’s jaw and caressed his cheekbone. Hakon had to suppress the urge to lean into the touch. He was unable to avert his eyes from the boy’s face. He couldn’t pull away and he couldn’t think straight.

“We’re under attack!” A shieldmaiden stormed into the room. “Your Highness! The Jotnar are attacking!”

Attacking? An unexpected stab of hurt pierced Hakon’s gut. Brogar might have been able to plant a traitor in their delegation, but a full-blown attack? That had to be Bergelmir’s decision, and of course, he hadn’t considered Hakon important enough to let him in on his plans, even if his survival depended on it.

Hrungnir’s maniacal laughter filled the bathhouse, echoing eerily off the tiles.

“What’s so funny?” the boy growled.

“Your weakness,” Hrungnir hissed. “Your ignorance. Your pathetic crush .”

Twisting in the grip of the warriors holding him down, Hrungnir’s features rippled and changed. Where there’d been a Jotunn warrior with black hair and a shaggy beard only moments ago, suddenly sat a petite blonde woman. A vala . But none of Bergelmir’s priestesses. What was going on?

“Gunnlaug.” Shifting his stance as if readying himself for a fight, the boy covered Hakon with his whole body.

With a quick flick of her staff, the vala sent the guards holding her down crashing against the walls. But the next wave of her seier was countered by the boy almost effortlessly. Hakon could feel both of their powers sizzling across his tattoos. He tried to get up. Surely the boy would be distracted enough so Hakon could shake off his seier’s grip and bury a knife in his back.

He couldn’t.

“Stay put, dróttning ,” the boy chastised mildly, not even glancing back at Hakon. His gaze never left the vala .

And did he just call Hakon ‘ princess ’?

“I must say, I didn’t expect you to have the guts to come back after you sold us out to the Jotnar all those years ago,” the boy said.

Hakon felt dizzy. Bergelmir had a Vanr sorceress to provide him with information about Saeborg and its defenses? Was this the woman who had undone the harbor chain for them? Hakon was seething with rage. All this lost potential! If he could’ve questioned her before the raid began, if Bergelmir hadn’t sent him into battle when it was almost too late, the raid could have succeeded. And even this accursed plot to assassinate the Vanr chieftain could have been so much better planned if his father had simply trusted him with some of his secrets.

“Your family should’ve respected the power of the priestesses! Now you’ll taste the consequences of your ignorance!”

The vala flung another seier at them, the whole room shaking under the onslaught.

Hakon had never seen such powerful volur fighting at close range, and the energy saturating the air took his breath away.

“Where are my mothers?” the boy roared, but he was only met with laughter. “Where are they?”

Anger clearly written on his face, the boy hissed an incantation, and the bathing water rose from the basin to encapsulate the priestess. She was lifted from the ground, and Hakon could see her floating inside the perfect bubble of water, arms flailing and mouth opened in a silent scream.

Hakon had never seen anything like the Vanr’s battle magic.

Throwing a spear at the trapped priestess, Frekegar ended her suffering, and Hakon watched with a mixture of awe and horror how the water turned red from her blood.

“I would’ve preferred to ask her some questions,” the boy snarled.

But Frekegar merely shrugged. “Do you have any idea how dangerous she was? You should’ve killed her on the spot instead of playing cat and mouse.”

“Fretting old man,” Talvi grumbled, but he already sounded rather amused than mad. “I’ll take care of the Jotnar . Put my betrothed under arrest.”

Betrothed? Hakon must’ve misheard. What was the boy talking about?

Turning to him, the Vanr leaned down to pluck the dagger from Hakon’s unresisting hand. “Behave, dróttning ,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

Too stunned to resist, Hakon didn’t struggle as the Vanr guards pulled him to his feet and bound his hands behind his back.