Valkyrie Slumbering Read Online Free PDF Page A

takes the edge off the afternoon’s chill.
    My hand slips away from the hilt, and I give him a slight smile. “It’s all right. I’m lost in my thoughts and jumpy because of it,” I admit, shocking myself. It isn’t like me to be so upfront with a stranger. But then, after yesterday, I guess I can’t exactly consider Grím a stranger.
    He cocks his head, eyes catching mine like a web does a fly. “I’ve been wantin’ to ask ye somethin’, and if I’m pryin’ I’m guessin’ ye’ll tell me,” he says.
    My smile turns crooked. “I will. But you’ll have to walk with me a bit. I want to see if I can find a hot spring nearby.”
    Light fills his eyes, and a smile spreads wide across his face. “Deal.”
    Keeping the river to our right, we begin to walk. Our arms brush now and then, the sensation causing shivers to race through me. Then again that could just be the breeze blowing across the hills. How he manages to distract me in a way no other man has is a mystery. One I can’t help but ponder. I find myself wanting to lace my fingers through his and seek my leather-wrapped sword hilt instead.  Even if only for a moment, I want to stay focused.
    “Was it yer mother or yer father who was Alfhiem?” Grím asks.
    The question sends a jolt through me. It isn’t so much what he asked, but how he asked it. His tone was curious, gentle. I’ve only ever been asked such a thing in a derisive manner.
    “My mother. And you?” I ask.
    His smile turns sad, and I ache knowing I dredged that sadness up. “Aye, me ma as well. Though he was a gentle soul, me da went sailing when his Viking king ordered it. The ship took him south where he met me ma.”
    I try to make my next words as gentle as possible. “Was she a slave then? Brought back from a raid?”
    Grím shakes his head, eyes on the cloudy horizon. “It wasn’t like that—she loved him and returned of her own free will with him.” The pride in his words warmed me.
    “It sounds as though they were both good people. I didn’t know Alfhiem lived in other lands,” I say.
    He nods. “Many don’t know of them, but they exist everywhere. In me ma’s land, they are called Sidhe.”
    “That’s a lovely name.”
    Knowing my mother’s kind exist elsewhere sends a pang of longing through me. For the first time since my father was killed, part of me longs to return home, to my mother.  But my work isn’t done yet. Which makes me wonder, what brings a man like Grím to such a contest?
    Thunder claps somewhere in the distance as if Thor himself is shocked that I’ve revealed so much of myself. As he should be. I’ve never shared this with anyone, and I never thought I would. Grím isn’t just anyone, though.  There’s something about him, something more than a shared experience. My eyes travel to the curve of his bicep, taking in the woven lines of his blue tattoo, and finally settle upon his face. Only a hint of stubble sprinkles across his handsome features, framing his tempting lips. Unlike the Vikings I’m used to being around, Grím likes to shave nearly every day. Unusual as it is, I find I like it.
    Again thunder booms, louder this time, closer. From horizon to horizon dark gray clouds choke the sky now. Sheets of rain billow down in the distant hills, but from the direction they’re traveling, it doesn’t look like it will reach us. My skin crawls.
    “Why is there no lightning?” I murmur.
    Grím’s hand wraps around mine, pulling my attention back to him. But he isn’t looking at me—he’s scanning our surroundings. His muscles are tense, jaw tight. “Thunder without lightnin’ is a harbinger,” he says.
    A shiver travels across me—whether from his worried tone or the ancient saying, I’m not sure. From far too close, a growl rumbles, turning my shiver into a rush of fear. The sound is dark and menacing, the likes of which I have never heard. Steel rasps against leather as both Grím and I draw our swords and put our backs