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“Yes,” I answered.
He nodded. “All witches do. It feels good. They know when I walk out of the shadows that their time in this realm has come to an end.” He pulled his hand free. Blood from his fingers stained the pale flesh inside the evergreen. “You think your folk are innocent and that we hunt you for no reason. You haven’t seen all horrors I’ve witnessed. You have never had to carry the corpses of your fallen sisters across the battlefield as some witch-for-hire set the fields aflame just to line her pockets with Christian gold.”
“No,” I said. “I never fought in the wars.”
“Then what gives you the right to judge my actions?” He towered over me. So strong. So full of righteous indignation. I wanted to wipe the arrogance from his face.
“What right do you have to judge mine?” I countered.
“Torsten is weak,” Skarde said. “He thinks that killing witches is wrong. He would rather be marked as a traitor in Odin’s eyes. The woman I lo—… the woman I care for is a witch. I will not kill her. And neither will you.” I felt my jaw tighten. “I know you envy Jovi. You’ll hurt her at some point. I will kill you before I let that happen.”
“Even if she never loves you back?”
“Even then. She is his mate, even if she isn’t mine. I won’t let you hurt me or mine.”
“What makes you think I will hurt you?” I asked, taking a step closer. He stepped into me so we were nose to nose.
“It is your way.”
I pushed up on tiptoe, brushing my mouth over his. He didn’t rear back. His hands tightened at his sides, blood dripping onto the snow from his injured fist. He was seconds away from violent action. To kill me or kiss me.
“If you don’t trust my sincerity, trust my self-preservation, Skarde. I want to come out of this alive. Maybe you’ll stop being such a fool when you see an end to this winter.”
“Doubtful,” he said.
That made me laugh. Our lips brushed again. Perhaps I was the fool, because I wanted him to kiss me.
“A truer word has never been spoken,” I whispered against his skin. “Now will you come back to us?”
“Fine. But don’t try this again, witch. You won’t like what happens.”
“Oh, I think I’ll like it very much.” I glanced down then. “The bulge in your pants betrays you.”
He snarled a curse, turned on his heel, and strolled away. I watched him go.
Skarde was a killer. And yet, despite my greatest efforts, I cared for him. If Odin were ever to catch wind of Skarde’s schemes, he was a dead man. The stubborn, selfish Viking was going to get himself killed. It shouldn’t have mattered to me.
But it did. And that made me the fool.
***
Jovi
We were running. Because I couldn’t keep up, Torsten had picked me up and now his shoulders were heaving against my middle, and the ground was a white blur beneath his boots. The sounds of the draugr could be heard in the distance, their guttural groans floating into the air.
I shivered. All those people had died while I’d been in Muspelheim. Could I have saved even one of them if I’d stayed? Fyrcat and I were a force to be reckoned with if we worked together. She’d guided my magic in ways I hadn’t known were possible. What was she like at her full strength? What would I be like at full strength? What would we be like together?
“Put me down,” I said, not sure if Torsten would hear me over the pulse in his ears and the growing sound of the draugrs. I repeated myself, a little louder. “Torsten, put me down. You don’t have to keep hauling me like a sack of potatoes. I can manage.”
Torsten staggered to a halt, sliding me off his shoulder as he went. His face was flushed from cold and exertion, but his eyes were bright and focused on me.
“You’re sure you can keep up?”
“You should reserve your energy,” Skarde said. “You’re the best chance we have at getting out of this alive.”
“What am I, chopped meat?” Fyrcat muttered under her breath.
She shot me a poisonous look over Torsten’s shoulder. She didn’t like me one bit—that much was very obviously clear. Which was fine with me. The feeling was mutual.
