A bright bolt of silver cracked across the dark sky, splitting the onyx clouds. Within moments, thunder roared, shuddering the ocean and praising Thor in the same breath.
Soon, the rain grew spiteful, stinging his face with each splash.
His feet moved, his leather boots squelching with each step. Another boom of thunder shook the wooden beams, making Njáll clutch one.
He paused outside the stretched hide hiding his quarters from prying eyes.
Except they weren’t his anymore.
They were hers, and he was merely an unwelcomeguest.
The urge to complete his nightly ritual of checking on her tormented him, making his skin prickle. Nothing calmed the unease twisting his stomach until he ensured his little flame continued to burn.
Water dripped from the smooth hide as he pushed it aside.
An unnatural chill made the hairs on his nape stand on end.
It wasn’t the coldness of the storm, but an otherworldly frost making his breath mist. The sudden drop in temperature made his fingers twitch near the hilt of his axe.
Each breath he took seared his lungs.
Then he found her, rocking back and forth in the nest of furs. Her limbs trembled. Short, uneven breaths shook her slim shoulders. Sobs caught in her chest, her eyes swollen and stained with tears.
Until now, the timid sound had been lost in the roar of the storm. The powerful witch who stole every logical thought from him now looked so small and helpless—her mountainous will cracking.
He hated it. Hated whatever had done this to her.
Lightning cracked close enough to illuminate her pale face before a clap of thunder exploded above them.
Njáll flinched at the teeth-rattling sound, but the girl convulsed, her back rounding in a painful way. The heels of her hands covered her ears, her breath hitching in a strangled gasp that was half sob, half scream.
The desolate wail tore his soul in two.
A vibrating growl rumbled beside the furs, a pair of glowing eyes pinning him in place. The panther stood guard over its mistress, its gaze fixed on Njáll, its claws flexing as it prepared to pounce.
Water dripped from his laden furs, ticking ominously on the floorboards.
He didn’t dare move, trying to quiet the thudding of his heart. The creature had never looked at him before as an enemy, but with the state his little flame was in, it triggered something primal in the familiar.
It struggled to discern friend from foe, and Njáll didn’t wish to find out which one it deemed him.
A beat passed. Then another.
Slowly, the tension coiled in the panther receded, its limbs graceful wisps as its posture softened. The growl remained.
A warning to something, but not to him any longer.
Or at least he hoped.
Njáll took a measured step toward the shaking pile of furs, an unfamiliar emotion scratching at his sternum.
“Please, stop,” she whispered, her voice reedy. With her eyes still squeezed shut, she hadn’t seen his approach. “Please. Leave me alone.”
His stomach tumbled, worried she’d beg him to leave. She continued to shake, unaware of his presence, pleading with some unseen torturer. The fur on his shoulder fell to the ground with a wet thud as he unclasped it.
“Tell me what harms you,” he said, his voice gruffer than intended.
She bolted upright, her eyes wild and unfocused. Crimson hair cascaded over her shoulders like a bloody waterfall. No color remained in her face, now paler than ice.
