CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
That night, long after they’d eaten and taken care of things, Muni found she couldn’t sleep. Call it nerves or excitement, she didn’t know. She only knew she extracted herself from the bed to find Eirik missing just the same. After searching the small hotel room and not finding him there, Muni slipped from the room and went to the roof. Eirik was often found looking to the stars, so she wasn’t surprised when she found him there.
Though the city lights were too bright to see the stars with human eyes, Eirik no longer was only human. Just as she could see many of the stars, she knew he could as well.
“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked as she stepped onto the roof. No one was up in the pool area at this time of night, the hour too early for most.
Eirik smiled over at her gently. “Too excited,” he admitted. “You?”
“I think it’s excitement,” she offered. “But perhaps, there’s some nerves there, too.”
“I understand,” he nodded. Then, he patted the seat right next to him. “Care to join me?”
With a smile, Muni moved across to take the seat he offered, absorbing his warmth. There was no space between them; there was no need for it.
Together, they looked up at the constellations they could see, pressed so tightly together, they might as well have been one. Eirik was the gentlest of her three men, but that didn’t make him weak. He grew stronger every day, grew into the powers he’d manifested, and Muni could see his ancestry in his veins. He may not have been born in a time of pillaging and battle, but he still knew battle the likes none of them knew. After all, what strength it must take to battle your own body rather than an enemy you could see?
After long moments of comfortable silence, Eirik took her hand in his and squeezed. “If something is to happen tomorrow—”
“Stop,” she breathed. “We’re all going to survive.”
“Never-the-less,” he continued. “If this is the last time I can see the stars, I’m glad it’s with you.” His voice was a whisper, an admission of care she hadn’t been prepared for. Those words hit her so hard, she felt her throat thicken with emotion. If it took everything she had, she would ensure Eirik, Brin, and Vidar survived the race. If they chose to return to Valhalla after, she would personally lead them there.
Even if she couldn’t imagine a life without the three Vikings who had somehow claimed her heart.
Leaning forward when she couldn’t find words to respond, Muni pressed her lips against Eirik’s, letting her feelings be felt rather than spoken. He kissed her back gently, a tender moment that sealed everything inside Muni for the rest of her days. There would never be another for her, not after Brin, Vidar, and Eirik. There could be no one else. There wouldn’t be room in her heart.
The kiss was so sweet, Muni felt her eyes grow wet, felt the tears threaten to fall. She was never a sappy raven, always choosing to be brutal and honest, but these tender moments felt like a promise of what she could have after they achieved their goals. It was a whisper she didn’t dare hope for too much—they could always choose to leave—but Muni couldn’t help the hope that unfurled in her chest regardless. It was too strong, too insistent, and she cared too much.
“I’m grateful I get to spend my second life with you,” Eirik murmured against her lips. “But if I could do it all over again, I’d find you sooner.”
Alone, on the rooftop of the hotel with nothing but the stars as witness, Muni gave what was left of herself to the third and the sweetest Viking. As he stroked her higher than the constellations above them, Muni could admit to herself one thing.
If she lost her Vikings, she knew she’d storm the world until she found them again. Only then, would the world know her mercy.