When she opened her mouth, no sound came. The lack of response didn’t deter him. Njáll pecked the top of her head once more, making her stomach do an odd sort of swooping.
“Stay sweet and huddled in the furs until you are ready to wake,” he said, grinning as he crawled out of bed.
Njáll strode to the trunks lining the far side of his home, peeling his tunic off by the back of the collar. Teeth dug into her lips as she leaned on her elbows, appreciating the expanse of muscled torso flexing with his movement.
Then, without regard for anything, he stripped his trews, flashing her a magnificent, sculpted ass. Some foreign, inhuman noise rattled in the back of her throat, unable to peel away her wide eyes.
As if feeling her gaze on him, Njáll took his time sliding into a pair of fresh trews before buckling a fur over his left shoulder. Turning, Njáll beamed at her, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
“You’re drooling,” he smirked, raising a brow.
She blanched, her face chilling as she hastily swept away the speck from the corner of her mouth.
Laughing, he left, closing the door behind him, and leaving an aching wetness at the crux of her thighs.
Desperate for a distraction, she changed into an indigo-dyed linen dress. Brushing out her hair with a comb of antlers, she fastened it into two braids.
Crisp air greeted her as she stepped outside. Sunlight spilled across the tall grass in the far fields. Birds chirped overhead, the worn dirt paths bustling with activity.
Women with overflowing baskets of herbs and berries corralled giggling children. A broad-backed man with more grey in his hair than chocolate soothed a skittish mare, feeding her apples while murmuring into her muzzle.
Eventually, she stumbled upon a field bursting with flowers. An array of colors painted the lush grass. Elara sat in the middle, curling her feet under her legs as she ran her fingertips over the soft petals.
She wondered about her father and whether he was eating. Hopefully, Brynne saw to him with Elara gone. While she tried to be hopeful about seeing him again, she couldn’t help the tiny voice telling her she wouldn’t. Telling her she’d never see her father again.
Just like she’d never see her mother or brother again. She plucked a flower from beside her, yanking its petals off with a little too much force.
For a fleeting moment last night, she believed she was past this.
The guilt. The grief. The emptiness.
It resurfaced with a vengeance, destroying the fleeting speck of happiness she dared to hold on to. Now she grieved for a mother and brother who had left this world, and a father who was as distant as they were.
Energy shifted by her feet, Alruna materializing with a shuddering growl. Elara froze, a crumpled petal disintegrating in her fingers. A low sound rasped in her ear, making the hairs on her arms stand on end.
Rattling whispers purred over her skin, as nefarious as they had been the night of the storm.
“Let us through, Seiðkona. Fighting is useless. The Jarl lies to you, uses you. We can protect you.”
Closing her eyes, Elara sucked in a harsh breath, running her fingers through the wispy tendrils of Alruna’s tail. Their taunts continued, almost sounding as though the draugar stood beside her, murmuring lies in her ear.
For that’s all it was—untruths.
She still didn’t fully understand what they were. Njáll had called them undead crafted in unholy armor She hadn’t found the courage yet to have him explain the meaning.
Sometimes not knowing was a blessing in itself.
The creatures wanted her to give up. They fed off her sadness until it was the only thing remaining.
Images of her mother chasing her through the gardens fluttered to the surface. Elara smiled, focusing on the memory until it warmed her, chasing away the chill.
The whispers faded, growing quieter until they disappeared altogether. And with them, Alruna vanished as well.
Slumping forward, she slid her hands through the grass.
After a beat, Elara rose, pride swelling in her chest. Before, she’d relied entirely on Alruna to banish the draugar. Now she found the strength to chase them away on her own.
Destroyed remnants of flowers littered the spot at her feet, and a small frown appeared. Tomorrow, she’d return and make something beautiful from the petals instead of ruining them.
