Ilisa snuggled into his chest and glanced around at the ship. Two men—the men who had triggered the brawl—were sailing the vessel. “You know these men?”
“Aye, they were part of my crew. The other Norsemen picked them out of the sea on their way around the coastline. Gardarr and Eric asked them to stop where our ship had sunk on the way back home to see if there was any news of other survivors but their leader, Magnus, wanted to raid too.”
“But you defeated them?”
“They will not raid again.” Alrek smoothed a hand up and down her arm.
“Where are we going?”
“To Iceland, hjarta mitt.” He cupped her chin and twisted to stare into her eyes. “I hope you will not miss your homeland.”
“I have no place in my homeland anymore, Alrek. My place is by your side.”
A self-satisfied grin stretched across his lips. “And mine at yours. We shall create a new life together on new land.”
“I should like that very much, hjarta mitt.” She replied with a smile.
Alrek chuckled at her ill pronunciation and lowered his mouth to hers. As his lips brushed hers, hope bloomed in her chest. The time of the Picts might be at an end, but for the first time in years, the future excited her. With her Viking at her side and a new land to explore, they would carve a new life together, one that brought together the best of their cultures. She opened her mouth to him, kissed him fervently—the heat threatening to drown her in the most pleasant way—and thanked the Viking gods for bringing them together.
Sun broke the clouds and warmed her skin as they both glanced up at the clearing skies. “It seems we have the gods’ blessing,” she said with a smile.
Alrek held her tighter and dropped a kiss to her nose. “It seems we do.”