Page 18 of The Viking in the Vault (Galactic Librarians #2)
RAGNAR
E lena…I need to protect her…need to protect–
I wake to a splitting headache and the sound of voices, sharp and urgent. Those voices overlap, arguing…angry. It creates a constant hum that feels like needles pressing into my skull.
And there’s a rhythmic beeping–a heartbeat, accompanied by the hiss of breath somewhere else in the room…a soft whine underneath it.
“Fenrik,” I groan, opening my eyes.
Everything is white, bright, and all too much.
But the sound of Fenrik’s whine is enough to push me into full awareness, senses sharpening even as my head throbs in protest. I shift slightly, but I find myself restrained, cuffs biting into my wrists and attached to the bed I’ve been placed in.
A growl rises in my throat, low and instinctive, and I struggle against the restraints.
I turn my head, my vision swimming, and see my loyal skarnhound on a table nearby. He’s still unconscious, his massive body rising and falling in slow, shallow breaths. A strange, clear tube is attached to his foreleg, feeding him some kind of fluid.
The sight makes my blood boil.
“Elena!” I call out, my voice rough but louder this time. “Help!”
The voices outside the room pause, and then I hear footsteps approaching. Whoever is out there is still arguing, Elena’s voice joining them. I hear a commotion outside, raised voices–then the door slides open and Elena appears.
Her dark hair is disheveled and her face flushed with anger, clothes put on in haste. Ves is behind her, their expression tight and cautious. Elena rushes to my side, her eyes scanning me with a mix of relief and worry.
“Ragnar,” she breathes, her hand hovering over my arm as if unsure whether to touch me.
“I’m bound,” I growl, tugging at the restraints to make my point clear. “Why?”
Her eyes flash with fury, and she turns to Ves, speaking quickly. Ves nods and steps closer, their brow furrowed as they address me in Ancient Skoll.
“Elena fight for you,” Ves says, their words slow and deliberate. “She told them you are not dangerous.”
I frown, my eyes flicking between them. “Why am I here? Why is Fenrik like that?” I nod toward my skarnhound, the sight of him tethered to machines making my stomach churn.
Ves hesitates, glancing at Elena, then back at me. “Doctors fear old sickness. Test you.”
“Test?” I snarl, my voice rising. “I am not ill!”
Elena places a hand on my arm, her touch grounding me if only for a moment. She locks eyes with me, then says something to Ves. Ves nods and translates for me: “She going to talk them,” Ves says. “Get you out of restraints.”
Elena gives me one more look, nodding along–then she whirls around and storms out of the room, her voice rising again as she confronts whoever is waiting outside.
I watch through a window by the door as she gestures emphatically, her tone growing sharper with each word.
She points back toward me, then at Fenrik, her face flushed with frustration.
The doctors standing opposite her shift uncomfortably, their eyes darting toward the room and then back to her.
One of them—a tall woman with a no-nonsense expression—tries to argue, but Elena cuts her off, stepping closer as if daring her to push back.
My fenvarra can be fearsome when she chooses to be.
I can’t hear everything, but her tone leaves no room for argument. Ves glances at me, their expression cautious. “She is strong,” they say, their lips quirking into a faint smile. “She cares for you.”
“She is strong,” Ves says again, leaning closer to me with a faint smile pulling at their lips. “She cares for you.”
I let out a huff, equal parts frustration and smug satisfaction. “Of course she does,” I say, my voice low but dripping with confidence. “She has accepted me as her fenvarra. She knows we are bound.”
Ves raises an eyebrow at me, their expression skeptical. “Accepted you?” they repeat, cocking an eyebrow.
I shift slightly, testing the restraints again with a growl of irritation before looking back at them.
“Last night,” I begin, my voice softening as I think of her.
“She let me stay with her. She let me hold her as she cried. She trusted me with her pain, her vulnerability. And this morning…” My lips twitch upward in a smug grin. “She kissed me.”
Ves sighs, shaking their head. All they do is look back to the door, exasperated.
“You worry for her,” I murmur. “I swore to you I wouldn’t hurt her. I haven’t. She desires me as only ones fated one could. I will learn her ways, and she mine. This is fate.”
Ves snorts. “Anyone ever say you drama queen?”
I frown. “What is a–”
The door slides open and Elena strides back in, her face flushed with triumph and a hint of irritation.
A Merati velraen in a white coat follows her, shaking their head and conferring with her via translator.
The Merati comes around to my side and gives Elena a fearful look before sighing and undoing my restraints as Elena speaks to Ves.
“Elena says you will not be restrained,” Ves says. “But have to stay. Understand?”
My lip curls and I bare my teeth at the Merati. They make a quick move toward the door. “Wait!” I shout.
They do not wait, slipping back through the door.
“I want Fenrik awake,” I tell Ves. “He is an obedient companion; he will not harm anyone here so long as I bid him not to.”
Ves nods and relays my word to Elena.
Elena listens, her gaze flicking toward Fenrik’s unconscious form on the nearby table. She glances at the machines surrounding him, her expression softening. She says something back to Ves, who translates for me.
“She says she will ask. But they need time to make sure he is…uh…” Ves pauses, searching for the right word. “Safe.”
I grunt, dissatisfied but understanding. My gaze lingers on Fenrik, his chest rising and falling with the shallow rhythm of his breath. It grates on me to see him so still, but I force myself to focus on Elena.
She steps closer, her voice lowering as she speaks to Ves. They translate again, this time slower. “She wants you to promise…no more fighting.”
I arch an eyebrow at Ves. “Do I seem unreasonable to her?”
Ves rolls their eyes. “You ripped dart out of chest. What you think?”
I grumble but relent. “Fine. Tell her I will not fight, but only if Fenrik wakes soon.”
Ves delivers the message, and Elena lets out a breath of relief. She nods, her hand brushing her forehead before she turns back to the Merati doctor on the other side of the glass. She’s speaking rapidly, her gestures animated as she continues to advocate for me—no, for us.
She’s fierce, unyielding, and entirely captivating.
Ves looks between me and the door, sighing deeply. “You make more demands, Ragnar. Like you not already cause enough trouble.”
I glare at them, my patience fraying. “Fenrik is part of me. He should not be treated like some experiment. Tell Elena.”
Ves nods reluctantly and relays my words to her. Elena listens, her gaze flicking toward Fenrik’s unconscious form on the nearby table. She glances at the machines surrounding him, her expression softening. She says something back to Ves, who translates for me.
“She says she will ask. But they need time to make sure he is…uh…” Ves pauses, searching for the right word. “Safe.”
I grunt, dissatisfied but understanding. My gaze lingers on Fenrik, his chest rising and falling with the shallow rhythm of his breath. It grates on me to see him so still, but I force myself to focus on Elena.
She steps closer, her voice lowering as she speaks to Ves. They translate again, this time slower. “She wants you to promise…no more fighting.”
I arch an eyebrow at Ves. “Do I seem unreasonable to her?”
Ves rolls their eyes. “You ripped a dart out of chest. What you think?”
I grumble but relent. “Fine. Tell her I will not fight, but only if Fenrik wakes soon.”
Ves delivers the message, and Elena lets out a breath of relief.
She nods, her hand brushing her forehead before she turns back to the Merati doctor on the other side of the glass.
She’s speaking rapidly, her gestures animated as she continues to advocate for me—no, for us.
She’s fierce, unyielding, and entirely captivating.
I sit up slowly, the ache in my shoulders easing as the restraints are fully removed. My muscles groan in protest, but I shake it off.
“Elena,” I say.
She turns to me, startled for a moment before stepping closer. Her hand instinctively reaches out, brushing against my arm as if to reassure herself that I’m okay.
“You fight for me,” I say, my voice low. “For Fenrik. Fenvarra.”
Her cheeks flush slightly, and she murmurs something to Ves. They translate with a faint smirk. “She says you are lucky she does not give up easily.”
I chuckle softly, the sound rumbling from deep within my chest. “I am lucky,” I admit, my gaze fixed on hers.
Without thinking, I reach out, my hand brushing against her cheek. Her skin is warm, soft, and the gesture feels natural, as though I’ve done it a thousand times before. I want to thank her, to convey what words cannot, but the moment is short-lived.
Elena stiffens, her eyes darting toward the glass window where the strange scholars are watching us with thinly veiled curiosity. She pulls back, her movements quick and hesitant, as though the realization has hit her all at once.
“Elena,” I murmur, confused by her retreat.
She shakes her head, her expression flustered as she looks at Ves and then back at me. “Not safe,” she whispers.
I nod, understanding the unspoken boundaries she’s setting. I drop my hand, letting the moment pass, but my heart doesn’t waver. She may pull away now, but I know what we are to each other.
I know what she feels, even if she isn’t ready to face it.