Chapter One
Anglesey Coast, 995 AD
The womanâs eyes haunted him.
Reinn Geirsson had awoken long before dawn, his dream of those clear, gray eyes so real it had taken a few long minutes to realize he did not have the maiden in his arms. He longed for her the same he did then as now. But the dark-haired maid was a Welsh princess and part of the spoils of war. By right, she belonged to his brother and not him.
Now, Reinn fled her as fleetly as if hungry wolves chased him. Swiftly he covered the ground from the conquered Welsh stronghold toward the northern coastline, his path lit by a full moon and the driving need to put distance between him and the maid who would be his doom if he dared stay another day.
His horse and his hound would stay behind, at least for now. He normally travelled with a small band of men, often arriving first at the site of his brotherâs battles because his karv ship was lighter and faster than the dragon ship that Gunnar sailed to denote his rank. Tonight, Reinn could see the dragon vessel, Lokiâs Revenge, anchored off the coast. The serpent figurehead made the watercraft look like a fearsome sea creature in the dark.
Turning his attention to the smaller boats that lined the shore, Reinn spied a light faering that could be crewed by one man. He ignored the karv that had brought him here with fifteen other men, knowing they would follow him tomorrow and bring his horse and wolfhound with them. Reinn had thought he could remain in the same keep as the woman destined to become Gunnarâs third bride, but the dream that had awoken him told him he dare not lay eyes on the proud beauty again. Those gray eyes called to him with otherworldly power, tugging at his gut as surely as if they had met in other lifetimes.
Odin preserve him, he knew what she would taste like without ever kissing her. Her gaze was fierce as any warriorâs, her power obvious in the way all her people looked to her after the conquest. All save her father, the cunning Welsh king whoâd given her away to a cold Norse lord without even trying to barter for her safety.
Reinn walked into the water, heedless of the cool waves soaking his boots. Unloading a leather satchel and his weapons into the shallow hull, he straightened to push the boat out to sea.
âDo not move,â a feminine voice ordered, harsh and desperate sounding, from the rocks behind him. âI have a crossbow upon you, heathen, and I know how to use it.â
His blood chilled.
Reinn prayed to all the gods that voice did not belong to the woman he most feared. And not because she thought she could shoot a crossbow.
No doubt she would miss him in the dark. With any other female, he would take his chances. But he had to know if the Norns who controlled his fate had sent the one woman he hoped to avoid directly in his path. Could they be so cruel? He lifted his hands, keeping them in full view, as he turned slowly around.
Only to see her. Eva filia Madoc, conquered Welsh princess and Gunnarâs promised bride. He did not need the sunâs help to see her gray eyes in the dark. He felt them upon him as she stared at him above the shaft of an arrow poised at his heart.
* * *
Eva trembled so hard she feared she would lose her grip on her weapon. Her throat was dry and her fingers had gone numb hours ago from lying in wait for her quarry. Still, she held her bow, her arms strengthened from years of hunting.
âTake me with you,â she commanded, knowing it was a foolâs request. The heathen invader could simply toss her overboard once theyâd left the shore and leave her to the sea monsters to devour. But after careful thought, she had decided any fate was better than what she faced at home.