Page 15 of The Viking in the Vault (Galactic Librarians #2)

ELENA

O nce we’re done shopping, we all decide that Fenrik needs some breathing room.

The skarnhound has been holed up in a cryo-pod for four thousand years, and a big guy like him needs a place to run around. It’s freezing outside–it always is in Snowveil–but I can think of the perfect place for Fenrik to frolick.

Snowveil Park is quiet when most scholars are at work, save for the occasional hum of distant conversation and the laughter of children playing.

Snow blankets the ground in a pristine sheet, interrupted only by Fenrik's massive paws as he bounds through the open field. His tail wags furiously, his breath puffing in the cold air like steam. Ragnar follows him, laughing—a deep, rich sound that seems so at odds with the brooding warrior I’ve come to know.

It’s…nice, seeing him like this. Relaxed.

Almost normal.

I wrap my hands tighter around the steaming cup of tea we picked up from a vendor nearby and shift closer to the warming station, which glows gold in the fading light.

Ves stands beside me, leaning casually against the heater’s railing.

They seem more amused than anything, watching Ragnar toss a stick for Fenrik like it’s the most fascinating thing in the universe.

“Who knew the ancient warrior could play fetch?” Ves teases, their tone light. “It’s almost…cute.”

I snort, taking a sip of my tea. “I don’t think he’d appreciate you calling him cute.”

Ves shrugs. “He doesn’t have to know.”

I glance at Ragnar, who is now crouched low, growling playfully at Fenrik as the massive skarnhound circles him with the stick in its jaws. The sight tugs a smile to my lips despite myself. “It is kind of cute, though,” I admit.

“See? You agree with me.” Ves nudges my arm with their elbow, their grin widening. “But don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

I shake my head, laughing quietly. “This is the first time I’ve seen him like this. Relaxed. Happy, even. God…when we were trapped in the Eiskammer, he was so intense. I like this side of him.”

Ves tilts their head thoughtfully. “Guess even ancient warriors need a break sometimes. Plus, Fenrik’s probably the only thing in this world he doesn’t feel out of place with. Helps to have a constant.”

I nod, my eyes lingering on Ragnar as he finally wrests the stick from Fenrik and throws it again, the hound bounding off with wild enthusiasm, tongue lolling. “It’s nice to see him smile. I mean, really smile.”

Ves hums, their gaze flicking between me and Ragnar. “You’ve got a soft spot for him.”

I flush, the heat creeping up my neck despite the frigid air. “I’m just trying to help. He’s…been through a lot.”

Ves hums in agreement. “Waking up in a world that’s changed so much…losing everything he knew. It’s bound to take a toll.”

I nod, my chest tightening at the thought. I can’t imagine what that must feel like—being so completely untethered, losing your family like that. I’ve barely been able to handle it for four years, let alone forever. To have left his planet behind and now finding out they’re all gone…

As Fenrik returns with the stick, Ves shifts slightly, their expression turning more thoughtful. “You know,” they begin, their tone more serious now, “there’s something you should probably know about ancient Skoll culture.”

I glance at them, raising an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

Ves hesitates for a moment, then sighs. “Have you ever heard the term fenvarra?”

I nod, frowning. “Yeah…Ragnar has said it a lot. What does it mean?”

“It’s an old concept,” Ves explains, waving a hand dismissively. “A relic of the past, really. The idea that every Skoll has one true mate—someone they’re bound to for life. Like a soul bond.”

I blink, my stomach doing a weird little flip. “A soul bond?”

Ves nods. “Yeah. It’s…romantic, I guess, but also kind of outdated. Most Skoll don’t believe in it anymore. Life’s too complicated for something so absolute. Plus, there’s like…absolutely no scientific foundation for it, right? Just superstition.”

I watch Ragnar in the distance, his broad shoulders and powerful frame standing out even among the other Skoll in the park. The way he moves is both graceful and commanding, like he’s entirely in his element.

And he was obsessed with saying that word to me…fenvarra.

The thought of him being bound to me makes my heart race.

“But…you don’t think it’s real?” I ask, trying to sound casual.

Ves shrugs again. “Who’s to say? Maybe it was something our ancestors made up to explain their feelings. Or maybe it’s real, and we’ve just lost touch with it. Either way, it’s not something you should worry about.”

I frown. “Ragnar would never hurt me.”

“That’s not the problem,” Ves says, turning to look at me directly.

“Ragnar isn’t just a normal Skoll. He’s really, really alien.

My people were a lot different four thousand years ago…

they had different ideas about gender and the role of wives and like…

having babies and stuff. I don’t know if it’s something you want to get mixed up in. ”

“Um…” I continue trying to stay calm, embarrassed at how defensive I’m getting about Ragnar. “Care to explain…?”

They shrug. “He used a term to refer to me yesterday–velraen?–it’s not really used anymore because it made non-binary Skoll seem like another like…

kind of person, I guess. Resulted in a lot of bad stuff for a few hundred years.

We just wanted to be normal and they thought we were all psychics because we could balance the genders… it’s stupid.”

Now it’s Ves I’m feeling defensive of. “Did he say something rude?” I ask. “I’m so sorry–”

“No,” they shake their head. “I’m just trying to make it clear that he’s really from a different world. And he…”

They trail off.

“What?” I ask.

“He’s used that word to refer to you, right? Fenvarra, I mean.”

I freeze, my grip tightening on the tea as the words sink in. Ves watches me carefully, their expression unreadable but their tone almost gentle when they speak again.

“It’s not something to panic about,” Ves says. “Like I said, it’s an old concept. Outdated. But…yeah, if he’s been calling you fenvarra, it probably means something to him.”

I swallow hard, my thoughts racing. “But…what does it mean to him? If it’s outdated now, then?—”

“It’s not outdated to him,” Ves interrupts softly.

“Ragnar doesn’t know the world you live in.

To him, the idea of a soul bond–of fate–is still real.

It’s…everything. It’s not just a term. It’s a vow.

A purpose. Like…yesterday, when we were all at the library, I honestly didn’t know if he was going to lash out and hurt someone when they tried to separate you two. ”

I blink, struggling to process that. “But why me? I barely know him. How could he possibly?—”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Ves says, cutting me off again.

Their voice is calm, but there’s a weight to it now.

“Fenvarra isn’t about time or getting to know someone.

It’s instinct. Connection. If Ragnar believes you’re his fenvarra, then in his mind, it’s already decided.

And he’ll do anything to protect you. To… be with you.”

I stare at Ragnar in the distance, my chest tightening. He’s crouched low again, wrestling the stick from Fenrik, his laughter echoing through the park. He looks so carefree in this moment, so normal, but the idea of him seeing me as some kind of…destiny is overwhelming.

“He’s never said anything outright,” I murmur, mostly to myself. “I mean, he’s intense, sure, but…I thought that was just who he is.”

“It is,” Ves agrees. “But if he thinks you’re his fenvarra, then that intensity? It’s not going to go away. If anything, it’s going to get stronger.”

I frown, my tea forgotten as I process Ves’s words. “So…what am I supposed to do with that?”

Ves exhales, their breath visible in the cold air.

“That’s up to you. But you need to be careful, Elena.

This isn’t just about you. It’s about him, too.

Ragnar’s been through hell. He’s lost his family, his people, his world.

If you’re his fenvarra, you’re the only thing he has left to hold onto.

That’s…a lot of responsibility, especially when I know how much your research means to you. ”

I look down at the steaming cup in my hands, my thoughts spinning. Ves’s words hit hard, and I don’t know what to feel.

Guilt? Fear?

Something else entirely?

“But what if I can help him?” I ask quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. “What if being there for him is what he needs?”

Ves chews on their lip. “Don’t give into the savior complex, Elena,” they say quietly.

I scowl. “I wouldn’t–”

“You’ve got that oldest sister thing going on,” they say. “And remember you’re on a deadline. I just…I’m worried about you and I don’t want you to get distracted with this, okay?”

Dang it.

They’ve hit on something that cuts right to the core of me.

“I know my priorities,” I try to argue. “I’m not going to abandon my research just because some ancient guy showed up and said I’m his destiny.”

Ves gives me a sidelong look, skeptical. “I’m not saying you would. But you have to admit, it’s not exactly easy to juggle everything right now. Your work, Ragnar, Fenrik, your family back home…and Dr. Kallipso isn’t the most forgiving supervisor. You’ve got a lot on your plate.”

I sigh, unable to tear my eyes away from Ragnar. Fenrik has dropped the stick at his feet, tail wagging furiously as Ragnar ruffles the fur behind his ears. The sight tugs at something deep in my chest, a mix of affection and something heavier.

I’ve known him for a matter of days…and I’ve never felt this way about someone.

What if fate is real?

“I don’t know,” I admit, my voice quieter now. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am getting in over my head. But…” I hesitate, searching for the right words. “I can’t just leave him to figure this out on his own. He doesn’t know this world, Ves. He doesn’t have anyone else.”

“And that’s the problem,” Ves says gently. “You’re taking on all of that for him. I get it—you’re kind, and you want to help. But you can’t pour from an empty cup, Elena. You’ve got to take care of yourself, too.”

I glance at them, their gaze steady but not unkind. “You think I should push him away?”

“I think you should set boundaries,” Ves replies. “Help him, sure, but don’t let him consume your life. You’ve got your own path to follow. You’re not responsible for his happiness, no matter what he thinks.”

I chew on that for a moment, the words sitting heavy in my chest. “It’s just…

hard,” I admit finally. “He’s not what I expected, Ves.

He’s not just some ancient warrior out of a storybook.

He’s real. He’s vulnerable in ways I didn’t think he could be.

And I don’t think I’m ready to just…walk away from that. ”

Ves watches me for a long moment, their expression softening. “I know. And I’m not telling you to walk away. Just…be careful, okay? You’ve got a big heart, Elena. Don’t let it get you into trouble.”

I nod, my grip tightening on the tea. “I’ll try.”

Ragnar stands as a light snow starts to fall, looking up toward the sky. Fenrik drops a stick at his feet, tail wagging frantically.

“You know,” Ves says after a moment. “For what it’s worth, I think Ragnar is really lucky to have you. There isn’t a better person to find when you need a friend. I mean…when I showed up in Snowveil, you were the one who showed me the ropes, too.”

I glance over at them, smiling. “That means a lot to me, Ves.”

They shrug. “Just don’t let it go to your head.”

I laugh quietly, the tension in my chest easing just a little.

Ves may be blunt, but they mean well. And as much as I hate to admit it, they’re probably right.

Ragnar’s world may be tangled up with mine right now, but I can’t lose sight of my own path.

Even if it means finding a way to untangle the threads between us.

For now, though, I let myself enjoy the moment—the warmth of the tea in my hands, the quiet hum of the park, and the sound of Ragnar’s laughter and Fenrik’s barks ringing through the air.