Chapter Three

R UNE BOTH LOVED and hated every minute she spent with jorn that morning before they set out for Ulrik's coronation to become King of the Fortress, which would begin, better yet resume, something which had already begun. Something she couldn't foresee in its entirety yet but would bring much change.

Change she and jorn stood on the precipice of together.

Were these moments at the top of Mt. Galdh?piggen's Peak the last of so many they had shared over the years? Would they leave and never come back as the friends they were now? What she had long hoped they might become beyond that? Because if nothing else had become clear after he pulled her into his arms when she'd tried to catch his little black dragon, it had been that she was desperately in love with him.

It was the first time jorn had held her against him since they were children and embraced like the good friends they had been, making obvious they were far more than that now. So said the fierce arousal she'd felt when he'd wrapped his arms around her to calm her. Between his spicy, earthy scent and the pure strength emanating from him, it was a wonder she hadn't forced him to take her then and there because she had that kind of power. Especially when, despite trying to hide the heavy weight of his cock against her, she sensed it took everything in him not to take her right away, too.

Yet that could not be. At least not right now. Mayhap never. Instead, they had to go their separate ways and treat each other rather frigidly these days at social gatherings. Be friendly enough, but nothing like it once was.

"I will see you there," jorn said after they had eaten and once again stood at the cave's edge. He looked at her as he always did, whether he realized it or not.

With so much love, it hurt.

"You will see me there," she murmured, wishing they could stay in this moment forever and never leave this cave. "Until then, min store kj?rlighet..."

A little light came to his eyes at her calling him her big love as she had when they were children because he was always taller and bigger than her. He inhaled deeply, as if rallying the strength to leave her, lowered his head once in respect of the high seer she was, then leapt off the cliff and shifted.

She bit back tears as his magnificent dragon rose into the air. What she wouldn't give to climb onto his back and fly away with him, leaving all her premonitions and worries behind. Unfortunately, she'd been born into the high seer position, which meant protecting her fellow seers must come first. That, in turn, meant steering clear of loving a dragon shifter, of all things, until she understood where everything was going.

So, she dressed appropriately for a seer of her ranking attending a Viking dragon king coronation and kept her head held high and a cool, seductive smile in place when she joined the festivities at the Fortress later that day. Her head held high because she was who she was. Daughter to Loki and the most powerful seer ever born. A cool smile because she must remember her station yet remain accepted. The seductive part? Inbred from her Viking seer heritage to make her appealing to all. Something that came so naturally half the time she didn't realize she did it.

The Fortress was overflowing with people and good cheer, speaking to Ulrik's popularity. Wares were sold inside and outside the great wooden wall surrounding the village, and the air smelled of brine, sea, various meats, and freshly baked bread. Drums played a steady beat, and flames crackled in hanging bowls and from various torches.

"Thank you for coming, dear friend," Ulrik said, jolting her from her thoughts. She blinked, startled to realize his coronation had ended, and he now stood before her with a hand resting on her shoulder and a crown upon his head. "It means so very much."

She stared at the tall, handsome, dark-haired Viking king with his metal crown and saw it aflame for a moment before she blinked and saw her childhood friend, who had only ever been kind to her. One who had always trusted her until that very moment when their eyes connected, and his brow furrowed.

"What is it, Rune?" Almost as powerful in his own right, Ulrik frowned and shook his head. "I do not understand..."

"But you will someday, my King," she whispered, barely understanding what she meant as she pulled his face down to hers, kissed his cheek, and murmured words in his ear born of a goddess. "Until then, never give up on those you love. You can distrust me, but never distrust them."

He pulled back and looked at her, equally startled for a moment, but despite how powerful he was and would someday be, he would never be as powerful as her. So it was no surprise when his features relaxed, he wore the thankful smile she wanted him to wear on such a special day and resumed greeting others as if their exchange hadn't hinted at future strife between them.

jorn looked handsome as ever in black leather with a black fur cloak. He stood a ways off beside his brother Magnus, also known as the dragon prince, and his father, King Knud. She and jorn shared a lingering look before she tore her gaze away and smiled at Rafe when he joined her.

As tall, handsome, and imposing as his fellow Sigdirs, Rafe was equally uncomfortable being there. While he didn't appear such, she knew he was because his mystic Celtic bloodline had been distrusted by many since the Great War a generation ago, making him almost as much an outsider as her.

"I am surprised you came," she commented, having always gotten along well with him. "I rarely see you at celebrations these days."

"And you know full well why." He sipped from his horn of ale. "I would not miss this, though." Pride lit his gaze when he looked at Ulrik. "The Fortress's new King deserves to have everyone celebrate this day, for it marks the beginning of his destiny, does it not?"

Like Rune, Rafe—wizardly Viking that he was—understood things others didn't. She knew it was no easier for him than her to keep secrets and have others so wary of him, but he did it with quiet grace.

"Today does mark the beginning of King Ulrik's destiny," she agreed. "For much change will soon be upon us."

"And trials and tribulations abound for him," Rafe echoed, his eyes turning the aquamarine of the sea behind him.

"I would say," she murmured, still unclear what those would be.

"As am I," Rafe said softly, following her thoughts when she allowed it. "All I am clear about is it has to do with women from the twenty-first century."

Something she had told Rafe many moons ago when she'd sent him down his own path, fully aware his magic would help him see things clearer as time went on.

"Twenty-first-century women are part of Ulrik's trials and tribulations," she murmured, homing in on who headed Ulrik's way. "But not all..."

"Our new King of the Fortress," Zane boomed, spreading his arms as he swaggered toward Ulrik. He pulled him into a tight embrace before holding him at arm's length and nodding once with approval. "I cannot tell you how good it is to see you take your rightful position. One that will soon, if we are all so lucky, lead you to becoming king above kings."

Zane was different than his brethren on several fronts. Not only did he suffer from multiple personalities, one side far more ruthless than the other, but he was of Ancient and Múspellsheimr bloodlines, the latter far more prominent. That meant his darker half tended to be more like the dragons from their home world, Múspellsheimr, an awful place of brimstone, fire, and heartless beasts that enslaved their females and used them for breeding.

While Zane wasn't that bad yet, he had the bearing of a more primal tribal sort, with the sides of his head shaved and his dark hair braided back. Even bigger than his brethren, he had numerous tattoos and piercings as well as several slashes in his eyebrow, signifying his rank among his kind.

"And those who stay at the Keep and call the Realm their own are his kind," Rafe murmured, eyeing Zane warily as he and Ulrik laughed and chatted. "And I sometimes wonder if that does not suit him a little too well."

She knew he spoke of Zane and Magnus's struggle for power at the Keep. A position that would make one or the other its ruler in Ulrik's absence. What Rafe referred to specifically was more than Zane ruling but possibly usurping Ulrik someday. Something she could neither confirm nor deny, only that she had sent Zane on a path years ago, too. One only her inner goddess understood.

A path that could lead to great or terrible things.

Zane's gaze skirted over her, and he nodded once in her direction, acknowledging her presence as he moved away from Ulrik to talk with others. Not surprisingly, he kept his distance for now and ended up joining King Knud and his sons.

"I sense tension there." Rafe spoke more softly than before, lest anyone overhear them. "A darkness that fluctuates around the four of them."

"There is." She rested her hand on Rafe's forearm, hoping he understood this particular darkness would only make his own life more difficult. "One we all must be wary of."

"And I am." He gave her a look of reassurance. "Worry not, my friend."

"You ask a lot," she murmured, worried about all of them and terrified of something unseen. "Just be careful, Rafe. And stay vigilant."

"I will," he replied. "As you know, I have created my own sanctuary behind the Stronghold where no one can touch me if ever it comes to that."

"Ah, yes." She smiled. "Rafe's Realm, I believe you call it."

"That's right." He was about to go on but quieted and gave her a look when Zane and the others headed in their direction, no doubt intentionally brought on by Zane himself, as these days he enjoyed riling people up.

That put her and jorn together when they tried to remain apart. Now, she could only hope Zane behaved because he would be the first to point out any affection she and jorn had for each other. More alarming, the first to point out the change in jorn's dragon when he was near her now. A change born of him holding her in his arms that morning and all the sensations and realizations that had come with it.

A change she sensed could cause great trouble indeed.