Her Viking Saviour (Lore & Love Trilogy #1)

Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Torben felt like he had died and the Valkyries had carried him to Valhalla. Surely this was what entering the Great Hall must feel like. A feeling of absolute bliss. Being one with Wynflaed was his Valhalla, she would be his everlasting bliss. He had easily pushed aside his jealousy at knowing he was not the only man who had known her. I will be the last man that ever does , he thought as he gripped her hips. She undulated on him as he thrust deep inside her. He wanted her to reach her peak again, and he used every bit of restraint he could muster to keep himself from his release. She was a vision of beauty with her head thrown back, her lush mouth parted as she moaned, and her hands grabbing her own breasts. Just when he felt he would burst, he felt the warm walls that gripped him tightly clench as she cried out again, and her whole body shuddered in release.

“Wynflaed, you are mine. Mine, Wynflaed. All mine,” he growled at her between clenched teeth as he erupted inside her. Never in all his time had it felt this good. Her body collapsed on him, and he watched the last rays of the day fade. It would be dark soon, but he did not want to leave her body and she did not seem to want that either.

‘Wynflaed, are you well?” He hoped he had not been too ferocious in their lovemaking.

“I am more than well, Torben,” she said with a sated voice, and looked at him with soft eyes. The amber colour was molten, warm, and deep, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I meant what I said to you, Wynflaed. You are mine now. Always.”

“And you are mine, Torben. I will not share you with another.” He bit back a smile at the fire that flashed through her eyes.

“I need no one but you, my spitfire love. They may call me Torben ‘Hel-Bringer,’ but you are a fire all on your own, Wynflaed.

“Speaking of which, I want to know you, Torben. Unburden yourself, tell me of who you were. I know who you are. And then we will discuss Guthred and Freydis.”

He nodded. There could be no secrets between them.

“I will start with ‘Hel-Bringer.’ When I was younger, I fought in many battles. Against other Vikings, the foreign people of the faraway lands we raided, and your very own people. My grandfather sailed with Ragnar Lodbrok west. I was a young boy, of twelve summers. When they returned, they brought riches, a wealth of gold and silver, and slaves.”

“The times when the Vikings learned that sailing west was possible, new riches and spoils was momentous, and as you know that they continue to do so to this day. Once I reached fifteen summers my father took me raiding. For practice, he said we would start with the Germanic tribes, people we have raided and fought with for generations. My father told me that when the battle began–once I had broken free from a shield wall–I was unstoppable, like I had the blood of a berserker. I would leave a path of destruction in my wake and come out untouched myself. I could never explain how I did this. Just that my senses were heightened, and my body was fluid with the axe and sword like we were one. I always felt Odin fought with me, I sensed his presence in my mind like my own thoughts were one with his. When I finally told my father, he was pleased. Our lineage had always held an affinity with the Raven God and I had been touched with a blessing not seen in the last few generations of our family. Of course I was proud. I was young, strong, and eager to share my reputation, so I began the journey to raid in the west.”

“This means you received the name ‘Hel-Bringer’ when you arrived in my homeland,” Wynflaed commented, her face still grim, but he saw a flicker of sympathy in her eyes.

“Yes, on the battlefield the men were in awe of my fighting skills and all the people I sent to the underworld. The goddess Hel, daughter of Loki, presides over Hel in Niflheim. They would say death sent them to Hel, a place for those who died without honour, without any heroic deed to their names. But to die by my hand meant that, even if you deserved it, Valhalla–or wherever the good Christians went–would not be for you. They whispered that that was my curse. I had Odin’s spirit with me and he wanted the souls sent to Hel, and Hel would welcome them into her everlasting icy depths.” His voice was hollow with the memories of all the death he had caused as he looked down at the ground . I am not worthy to bask in her gaze .

“But something made you step away from this, Torben,” Wynflaed said gently, as she rubbed his hand in comfort. He raised his eyes back to her and saw compassion in her eyes, the sun’ setting rays highlighted the golden flecks. He pressed her hand to his mouth and kissed it.

“I would fight in battles against men, but I always distanced myself from raids on villages. For a while I was indifferent and no one dared question me. The men were afraid to anger me lest they, too, be denied Valhalla and instead be greeted by Hel.

“There was one raid where I was overseeing the plundering of supplies, riding through the village to make sure nothing had been missed. As I rode by, I saw such atrocities committed, it sickened my stomach. I will not share what I saw, these visions do not belong in your mind. I rode away even though every instinct told me to strike my brethren down. I found a tree and carved a raven in it. I sliced my hand with a blade and pressed my bloodied palm upon the bird. I do not know why I did it, I suppose I thought it would help bring Odin to me. And it did. In my mind I saw Yggdrasil and Odin stood underneath it. He was cloaked but I could sense him. I asked for his forgiveness and for permission not to battle unless it was to defend my people. He nodded and said raiding was not my path any longer, and instead I could preserve the ways of old. He did not explain further, but the ways of my people had been to trade and farm, not just raid and plunder. I never lost the name ‘Hel-Bringer,’ it is a reminder of my part in the harm we caused. I will fight now to protect those I care for and when there is no other choice. It took my father a long time to accept, but I am glad he did before he passed. He knew I would protect Klavik and my siblings. That was enough for him.”

Torben could not remember the last time had spoken this many words in a single sitting, and a huge weight lifted from his chest as he took a full breath of air. Wynflaed’s face was contemplative as she watched him.

“Torben, what you did took more strength than needlessly killing and destroying everything in your path. I grew up hearing the stories of what was done to my people and it struck terror in all of us. You are brave. You are kind. Above all else, you are selfless, and you need to forgive yourself,” she told him, her own voice now thick with emotion as she pressed both her hands on his chest.

“I try my best to make amends, Wynflaed. That day I saw you in Kyivan Rus, I think I knew you would be my salvation.”

“Kyivan Rus. Guthred. Torben, now that I know you and what happened, how does it relate to Freydis?”

Torben narrowed his eyes.

“Guthred was the one who committed the atrocities that turned me away from battle. I will never allow my sister to wed that savage animal. She thinks it is love because she cannot see past her scar. Guthred is cunning and cruel. He wants to ally himself with our family, he always told me we would be an unstoppable force. When I left on a trading mission, he was welcomed in Klavik because I had never shared my dislike for him, and while he was here he won Freydis’s heart. I forbade their union and sent him away and she is yet to forgive me.”

“Did you explain to her what you just told me?”

“No, she does not need to know. I am her brother–her Chieftain–and she needs to trust me.” He stood up and brought Wynflaed to her feet as well.

“Let us return to the settlement. Let us bathe and eat. And tonight you will be in my bed, where you will be for the rest of your nights.”