Craved by the Viking by Felicity Brandon EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Felicity Brandon
- Language: English
- Genre: Viking Historical Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 7.8 MB
- Price: Free
THE CELESTIAL CANOPY led Frida up the hillside. The stars’ guidance
emboldened her, reaffirming her belief that the gods blessed her endeavor,
seeking to light her way.
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She remained aware of Freyja’s presence and of her own heightened
senses. Never before had she felt her strength as sharply as upon this night.
What she was looking for, she was unsure, but the water was calling to her.
Freyja had told her to trust, and she would do so. The omens would come.
As if the elements chose to reply, the wind whipped around, flinging her
hair and tugging at her shawl. She pulled it closer as she stared out at the
sea.
Frida had explored the coastline many times by starlight and knew the
rhythms of the ocean. There was no doubt the water’s swell was more
violent than usual. Huge, angry waves rose from the depths, hurtling toward
shore.
A storm raging out at sea?
Such things rarely touched the haven of their island.
Is this the omen I’ve been seeking?
She cast her gaze to the skies, where the stars hung bright. There were
no clouds, so what could be driving such weather?
The gods. She knew it with certainty. This was the sign.
Her pulse sped with the knowledge. Something was about to happen.
She scanned the waves again to where the bay’s jagged rocks broke the
surface. Spray and foam were flung high, making it difficult for her to see,
but she would swear something moved beyond them.
A curving shape, like the hull of a boat, though without mast or sail.
Surely, Astrid had not taken out her small vessel to fish at such an hour?
The girl was young, but she knew these waters and wouldn’t have been so
foolhardy as to venture out upon a rough tide.
An unexpected sound carried upon the wind, like the shriek of a gull.
Frida strained to listen. When the call came again, her heart leapt.
‘Twas a human shout, its distress palpable. Then another. A man’s cry.
“By the gods! No!” There were several voices now, fragmented shouts
torn from the waves. Fear gripped her. “Tell me, Freyja! What is this? Have
you sent our men back to us?”
Picking up her skirts, Frida ran, retracing her steps down the hillside.
Passing the arc of huts along the curve of the bay, she made toward the
dunes. Beyond, the tide was yet high, covering half the sands, though
receding quickly.
Onward she raced, bracing against the wind. More than once, she was
obliged to scuttle back to avoid a rogue wave. Becoming drenched to the
bone would not aid her, though she knew not what help she might be. None
could navigate the treacherous terrain in such conditions. ‘Twas impossible.
Reaching the western portion of the beach, Frida took respite, resting in
the lee of the upper rocks newly revealed from the wet sands.
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