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CHAPTERFIFTEEN

The next day, when Vidar didn’t appear for breakfast, Muni went in search of the Viking. Though she knew he was angry, it was time to get to the bottom of his aggression. She knew he didn’t want to be here, but she didn’t know why. Some part of her felt guilty for pulling him from Valhalla, and though she’d had a reason for it, she owed him an apology.

It took the better part of an hour to find him in the great castle. After searching every room, she finally found Vidar in the library of all places. He was sitting on the window seat, looking out the window as he was often doing, the sketchbook she’d left out for him open on his lap. He hadn’t asked where the sketchbook and charcoal had come from. Instead, he only picked it up and kept it. Sometimes, she caught him sketching in it when he thought no one was looking. Now, as she came into the library, he snapped it shut, hiding away whatever he’d been working on.

He scowled at her as she stepped inside, annoyance written across his face as if he couldn’t bear to be in her presence. “Can’t a man sit in peace?” he growled, turning back toward the scenery outside.

The castle was more heavily protected than her apartment had been. Because of that, no assassins would likely make it inside. Aerith had reassured her it would be safe. As the heir of her family, she was often a target herself, so Muni believed her. At least her men would be safer here.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” Muni asked him, tilting her head to the side.

“I think I’d remember if a fucking raven woman had bothered me before.” Distaste. Annoyance. Every negative emotion he could muster. They were all in his words.

Without offering more words, Muni transformed into the raven she came from, nothing more than a harmless bird that fluttered her wings and took up residence on the back of a chair, waiting for him to acknowledge that he knew her. When his eyes widened, Muni changed back, settling her feathers beneath her skin again.

“You were the bird. . .”

Muni nodded. “Back then, I was still Odin’s spy, still running missions for him, but I came upon you sitting out near the river one day and you were kind.”

For the first time, the corner of Vidar’s lips curled up at the memory. “I’d fed you some of my bread.”

“And you talked to me. For hours sometimes. I came back every day to listen.”

His face hardened. “You were spying on me?”

She shook her head. “No. I simply liked your company. It took me a while to find the memories but once I did, I knew exactly who you were, knew why you felt familiar in Valhalla.” She watched him carefully. “You were so kind then. What happened to that Vidar?”

He shook his head. “Just because you were once my confidant doesn’t mean you can be so now.”

“You’re right,” she agreed. “I can’t change what I did. But now, it’s not only you at stake. Brin and Eirik don’t deserve your treatment even if I do. Help me keep us all alive and I’ll personally lead you back to Valhalla myself.”

Vidar sighed and looked back out the window. Muni took that as his dismissal and turned to go, but before she could leave, he started speaking.

“You remember me before I was married to Katla. When you stopped appearing, I’d assumed you’d moved on, so you never got to hear the story.”

Muni turned back. “Katla?”

“My wife,” Vidar clarified. “She was physically weak but beautiful. She sought out the strongest of our clan, and stumbled upon me, deciding I was to be her husband. I resisted at first. I’d always dreamed of a strong wife, one who could battle at my side, not one who needed protected, but Katla, she was persuasive, and eventually, I fell in love with her.” Vidar tilted his head back, revealing the great expanse of his throat and the tattoos etched in his skin there. “But I knew I was only a tool to her. What she lacked in strength, Katla made up for in cleverness. She knew I could protect her and that’s why she chose me.”

Moving forward to take a seat, Muni leaned in to listen better. “What happened?”

She knew something bad had happened to cause his death. Vidar had been strong when she’d known him. He would have only grown into that strength and been a great warrior. For him to have died. . .

“A rival clan, one Katla was once rescued from, stole into our village in the night. They were swift, knew how to move in shadows, and so by the time any alarm was sounded, they’d already began to decimate our village. They raided us, and they weren’t kind. They pillaged. They raped. And when they came for us, I stood ready at the door to our hut, Katla terrified behind me. I’d taken out all who came at me, but I’m only one man. They grouped together and attacked, and in the end, I fell fighting to protect Katla. Before I died, I heard her screaming for me. I heard her screaming. . .”

Her heart twisted savagely in pity. Vidar’s greatest regret followed him into his afterlife, and still haunted him. That much was clear. He’d died protecting his wife.

“You could only do so much alone, Vidar,” Muni whispered.

“I have to get back to Valhalla,” he said. “What if she arrives there before I get back.”

And suddenly, Vidar’s attitude made so much more sense.

Standing, Muni moved over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Vidar,” she murmured gently. “You’ve been waiting for a thousand years. What makes you think she’s still coming?”

“She has to. I’ve been waiting.” His voice cracked in a way that made Muni crack just a little.

She shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry for your loss, warrior, but she wouldn’t have wanted you pining away for her. Even if you return back there, she won’t be there. Not all souls find their way to the warrior’s welcome.”

“But you were reincarnated. Maybe she can be, too.”

“Perhaps,” Muni offered, but she knew that the chances of that were slim. Though someone could be reincarnated, they still retained their main traits. If Katla had never been a warrior, she wouldn’t suddenly return as one. Muni suspected, deep down, Vidar knew that.

“If she doesn’t come, then how can I ever redeem myself?” he whispered. There was so much pain in that voice, so much she hadn’t known he was carrying, but he wouldn’t want her pity.

“There’s nothing to redeem. Warriors all fall at some point. You made it to Valhalla, the highest honor. That alone should tell you—”

“What good is Valhalla if you’re still alone?” His face twisted with grief. “Katla wasn’t strong, but she was all I had.”

Muni bowed her head, knowing she couldn’t offer more. “I understand. I’m sorry I allowed our connection to get in the way of your afterlife. You have my word I’ll honor your wishes the moment I’m able to.” She stood to walk away, to leave Vidar to his grieving, but strong fingers wrapped around her wrist to stop her.

“I’m not sorry for it,” he whispered. “Not really.”

“Even though you hate me?”

His face twisted with regret.

“I don’t hate you,” he sighed. “In fact, I respect you. You’re doing something honorable, not only avenging your brother’s death, but trying to put a stop to others dying like him. I respect you, but. . .”

When he trailed off and didn’t continue, Muni carefully pulled her wrist from his hold and nodded her head sadly. “But I’m not a goddess,” she rasped. “I got it.”

And then she left the library, leaving behind the emotion she didn’t want to feel for the Viking. Regret. She regretted not giving him a choice, but in the end, she’d make sure he returned to where he came from. She’d respect his wishes, no matter what they were.

No matter if they hurt.


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