"If you shoot one more blasted arrow, I shall slit her pretty throat without hesitation!" He yelled, his rancid breath reaching my nose.

I closed my eyes, my breathing faint as I felt the knife press deeper into my throat. This was it. I silently pleaded to the gods to make this end. A low chuckle vibrated my back and I opened them to find a familiar group of men standing before us.

I could not help the small sob of relief.

It was my captor.

The brute and his most trusted men stood a small distance away, on edge of the stranger's next move. The Jarl held his large axe, poised to throw at any moment's notice. Ragnar, Trond, and Balder tightly grasped long swords, glaring down at the man with absolute loathing. Ivar held a long bow and I could not help but mouth a thank you to him, fathoming he was the one that saved me from being attacked.

His deep forest green eyes flashed with an unknown emotion before his head tilted in a small nod. He was cautious, they all were. 'Tis a delicate situation and I was in the middle of it all.

"Let the maiden go and I shall consider not killing you slowly, limb by limb, vermin." The brute's low words were said softly.

Deadly.

The man only snorted in amusement, tightening his grasp around me even more so. I could barely breathe, his arm around my waist squeezing painfully. The blade of the knife stung, digging into the soft skin of my throat; not enough to kill, but to warn. I instinctively knew that more ribbons of blood trailed down my neck into the low neckline of my gown.

I stared hard at the handsome brute, begging him with my eyes to save me. I desperately wished to be freed from the stranger's malicious grasp. I wished to be anywhere but here. The Jarl did not respond to my plea, his face expressionless, and that sent a thread of dread through me. His eyes flickered between the blade at my throat and the man behind me.

The brute did not care if I died tonight. But his erstwhile reactions and touches made me almost believe differently. I was horribly wrong. Helplessness made my body begin to tremble.

I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, now waiting for the blade to slide against my throat, ending my life.

I would be reunited with my family. A small part of me could not wait.

"Why would I kill my future dronning? She is to be with me, ruling by my side once we reach the walls of my clan." The stranger's low rumble was heard.

A small flash of irritation rolled through me. These men...if I were not in a deadly position, I would have smacked the man who held me in a tight embrace. 'Tis severely bothersome that these individuals treated me as property. I was not to be tossed around like a sack of grain.

The barbarian only smirked at him in response.

The man began leaving wet trails of kisses on my neck, teasing the group of men and I was forced to remain still. Disgust and panic made bile rise in my throat, but I had to shove it down in fear of moving my neck.

A low growl echoed from the men, and my eyes shifted to the brute. If looks would slaughter, the stranger would be long dead.

I wanted this torment, this torture to be over.

I slowly felt myself being roughly pulled into a stand before the four men in front of us. They all shifted, preparing for his next move. He was outnumbered, but I fathomed he was fatuous enough to try something. I clenched my eyes shut, not wanting to see the looks on the men's faces.

The blade released its pinch on my throat and my eyes flashed open in surprise.

I felt his tongue roll across my neck, and repulsion sliced through me as he licked the blood from my throat.

He only hummed before pressing his lips against the place where my pulse beat fast. "I shall come for you soon, min dronning, very soon." His soft whisper was for my ears only and I turned my head away from him as best I could, desperate to be away from him.

His hands roamed my body briefly almost to memorize my curves before he suddenly shoved me towards the brute and his men. The Jarl quickly dropped his sharp axe to catch me before I hit the ground, gathering me in his arms. Ivar stepped back to protect us while Balder, Trond, and Ragnar chased after the stranger.

The brute's familiar warm embrace was slightly comforting after the chilling revolting touch of the other man. My skin crawled at the touch of flesh on flesh. I did not want to be touched by anyone anymore.

My body shook in shock and adrenaline as my life once again hung in a delicate balance. He would have raped me if not for the brute and his men. The terrors of what could have happened if the brute did not interfere crossed my thoughts. I shook my head quickly to expel them.

Oh Odin, was this endless feeling of fear and terror what my poor Leif and Astrid felt as the church collapsed on them?

I quickly pulled out of the Jarl's embrace as the small amount of food I had eaten came back up.

My throat burned horribly as everything left my body. I kept a hand on my cut throat, my fingers growing sticky and warm with my blood. Once that was finished I kept dry heaving, the bile making my mouth taste sour. My vomit was mixed with a splattering of blood from my neck, and I retched once more at the sight.

I felt a warm hand caress my back as I bent over the ground, a hand holding my hair away from my face. I faintly heard my captor's soothing low words to me before he suddenly roared out:

"Find that bastard! Bring him to me!"

As the men searched the woods, including the Jarl who paced a small distance nearby, I began to feel featherbrained, as if my head were fuzzy clouds. My body ached and my throat throbbed.

My heart pounded furiously in my chest and I felt as though it desired to escape from my center. My hands trembled, so much so I could barely tuck my hair behind my ear. I stood up slightly, but my knees were threatening to buckle. My breaths were suddenly short and raspy, I could not catch my breath properly. It felt as though my chest was caving in and my airways were nonexistent. Great Odin, what was happening to me?

I sank to my knees, clutching my chest and throat as the overwhelming emotions of these past few sunrises rushed in and overpowered my body. Pain, grief, sorrow, rage...even guilt bloomed like a deadly flower inside of me. I could barely breathe from the tightness in my chest. Why was I still here? If I could I could only turn back time...

"Aderick, the girl!" Someone shouted from afar.

"Britta!"

My fixed stare at the frozen ground was obscured by a pair of worried familiar obsidian eyes. In that single moment, I had a flashback to when I was but a child of only nine summers.

A group of strange men stood by the edge of the bridge; Pappa, Kare, and a few warriors were talking to them. Pappa did not seem happy. He was arguing with a tall skinny man. I looked up at Mamma, who was worrying her lower lip. Her gaze was locked on Pappa. Was she worried about him? What for? He seemed fine to me.

I leaned around Ran, who stood in front of us. Like a shield. He turned slightly, catching me looking at the group across the bridge.

"Britta, stay behind me," he muttered, guiding me back to Mamma's side with a wave of a hand. The look of unease on his face made my tummy feel weird. Were those strange men monsters? Were they from the north?

I could not help but slip my hand into Mamma's, to comfort her, and she smiled slightly down at me. I looked back towards Pappa and Kare, but then I saw a boy break away from the group and begin walking onto the bridge.

My head leaned to the side as I watched him walk slowly towards us, his eyes on me. Or was it Mamma? I looked up at her then back at the boy. The boy had shaggy dark hair that hung past his brows, and large sad ebony eyes that nearly matched. His eyes were hopeful and alight with some other odd emotion. He suddenly stopped at a low hiss that came from the group by the bridge. He could not take his eyes off of something. Was it me? I did not know him. But he looked friendly. The other tall man did not. Perchance we could play together? I loved to play outside.

Low words were spoken betwixt Pappa and the man, and Pappa looked angry. The man only smirked then cast his gaze onto me. I shrank away from the scary look on his face.

"Come, Aderick, we are leaving." The tall man said before departing. The boy seemed torn, stepping rearward but his face told me he wanted to stay. I smiled at him shyly. His face lit up at my response and he sent a grin my way before turning to leave. I never saw eyes like his before.

"Britta? Britta, are you all right? Answer me!" The now oh-so-familiar brute demanded, shaking my body by the shoulders, bringing me away from the past.

I realized now why his dark eyes looked so recognizable. When I first set my eyes on his, a small part remembered those deeply haunted orbs. The ebony hypnotic eyes were ones that I somehow could never forget as a child. But once I grew up, I simply forgot about the sad-eyed boy from that night long ago.

The man crouched in front of me looking almost panicked was the very same dark haired boy from when I was young. I had met him before. Odin's blood, how had I not figured it out before? Shock and dismay did not come close to what I felt. My body was frozen as my mind struggled to comprehend this.

"Say something, Britta. For Odin's sake!"

"You were the boy. The boy from that night nearly ten summers ago," I whispered hoarsely, shifting my gaze to his. His eyes widened in surprise, not expecting those words falling off my tongue.

His reaction was all the confirmation I needed. By the gods, I was right.

My chest then began to work once more, and I heaved in a big breath of air. But my body would not stop shaking. My bloody fingers shook on my lap and I clenched them into fists. The Jarl blinked and slowly nodded in affirmation. I felt as though the ground dropped from under my kneeling form at his words that sealed my fate.

"Yes. I was the boy on that night ten summers ago."

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