A Fate Inked in Blood (Saga of the Unfated, #1)

“Don’t touch it,” I shrieked at them. “Don’t touch the walls! Stay down!”

Some listened and drew away from the walls, while others who either didn’t hear or were too terrified to understand again tried to reach the gate.

Lightning flashed, rebounding off my magic, splintering into arcs as it did. To my horror, it struck some of those who’d moved away. They dropped to the ground, smoke rising from their bodies, and I screamed and screamed because there was no escape for them. No way to protect them as bolt after bolt of lightning shattered against my magic, only for its glowing fragments to find victims.

“Stop!” I howled, the stink of charred flesh filling my nose. “Please!”

Tora didn’t stop. Only stood out of reach of the desperate attempts of Snorri’s archers to take her down, watching impassively as her magic broke against mine.

Bjorn’s words echoed in my head. She told me the shield maiden would unite Skaland, but that tens of thousands would be left dead in your wake. That you’d walk upon the ground like a plague, pitting friend against friend, brother against brother, and that all would fear you.

Bjorn’s mother had been right in her fears. Right to instill them within him, for before me was the future that Odin had shown her. Skalanders, dead and dying because of me. Dead and dying because men of power wanted to possess me. To use me. And there was no path I could take to stop it.

Except for one.

A bolt of Tora’s lightning struck, and the second it did, I withdrew my magic from the wall. From the corner of my vision, I saw Bjorn reaching for me, but for once I was quicker than he was.

Slinging my body over the edge of the wall, I jumped.

The ground raced up to meet me, my heels slamming into the embankment hard enough to rattle my spine. Then I was rolling. I ground my teeth as I somersaulted into the trench, slamming against corpses and stakes as I fell. My body screamed with pain, but I ignored it and scrambled to my feet.

“Freya!”

Bjorn’s shout filled my ears, but I didn’t look back. Only clambered to my feet and ran.

Tora’s face was filled with shock, and she cast a backward glance at Harald. “Catch her,” he shouted.

The taller woman broke into a sprint, but I had a head start.

You can do this, I told myself, my eyes fixed on where the river poured over the cliff, the thunder of the falls growing louder with each pounding step I took. You can end this.

Tears poured down my cheeks, fear constricting my chest. If they don’t have something to fight over, they’ll stop. No one else has to die.

“Freya!”

Bjorn’s voice. He was chasing me, trying to stop me. But I couldn’t let him.

Forgive me.

I reached the river, a stitch forming in my side as I sprinted down the bank. The waterfall loomed ahead, rocks slick from the mist.

Saga had seen a future, but I was unfated. I could change the course of my destiny and, in doing so, change the fates of so many others. Could save them from falling beneath axe and sword.

“Be brave,” I whispered, my hand going to the hilt of my sword, hoping that my sacrifice would earn me a place in Valhalla as I gathered myself to leap, knowing that the rocks at the base of the falls would make it quick.

The specter appeared in front of me.

I skidded to a stop as it held up its hand, embers and smoke drifting from it. Then fingers latched onto my wrist, yanking me away from the edge.

I shrieked, certain that it was Tora. Certain that I’d failed; but the chest I was dragged against was Bjorn’s. “Where you go, I go,” he said, hauling me back upstream. “And I’m not letting you go to Valhalla without me at your side.”

“It’s the only way,” I pleaded, trying to get out of his grip. “I need to change my fate. I need to save my people.”

“And you will.” His axe appeared in his hand as he pulled me farther upstream, his eyes on Tora, who kept pace with us, her expression wary. Beyond, Harald and his men raced closer even as Snorri’s warriors poured out of the gates, a battle soon to be upon us.

My efforts would be for nothing.

“How do you think this will work, Bjorn?” Tora shouted. “You think you’ll just escape with her? Every king and jarl within a thousand miles will be hunting for you. It will never end. Never.”

“Then let us end it here and now, with weapons in hand,” Bjorn said, and taking two quick steps, he heaved his axe.

Tora’s eyes widened as the flaming weapon flipped end-over-end. She had no shield. Nothing to block it. Nothing but magic.

Lightning crackled from her hands, arcing toward the axe.

Only for the weapon to disappear right as Bjorn caught hold of my waist and pulled me backward. I caught a glimpse of the lightning striking the ground where we’d stood, dirt and rock exploding in all directions with a clap of thunder before water closed over my head.

I kicked my way to the surface, the rapids whipping me this way and that. Waves splashed me in the face as I gasped in a breath, searching for Bjorn, panic filling my veins when I didn’t see him. “Bjorn!”

What if he’d hit his head?

What if he’d been dragged under?

“Bjorn!” I screamed his name, but my voice was drowned out by thunder. For a heartbeat, I thought it was Tora attacking us from the bank with her lightning, but then I realized.

The falls.

Sucking in a breath, I dropped under the surface, searching. It was all froth and bubbles, my fingers finding nothing as I reached around me. Kicking back up, I drew in another breath, ready to try again.

But hands caught hold of my shoulders.

I gasped, twisting my head. Only to find Bjorn behind me. His hair was plastered to his face by water, but otherwise he seemed unhurt.

“We need to get to the bank!” I screamed. “We’ll die if we go over the falls!”

“Deep breath, Born-in-Fire.” His grin was wild. “And trust Hlin to protect you.”

“What?” I shrieked, realizing that he was kicking us to the center of the river. Realizing he intended for us to go over.

And then we dropped.





My stomach rushed to my throat, my eyes going down, down, down to the deadly froth of water and rocks. A scream rose but as it tore from my lips, it was Hlin’s name that came forth.

Magic flooded from my fingertips, first covering Bjorn and then my own body with silver light. A heartbeat later, we struck.

Even with Hlin’s protection, the impact drove the air from my lungs. And there was nothing to fill them as we rose up, then were slammed down into the riverbed again, the water holding us in its perpetual churn. Spinning us around and around until I didn’t know which way was up. My elbows struck rock but instead of the water dragging me upward in its inescapable cycle, Bjorn tightened his grip on me, pulling me along the riverbed.

I needed to breathe.

Desperate, I fought his hold. I needed to reach the surface. Needed a mouthful of air even if it meant the falls dragging me back under a second later.

Bjorn pinned my arms to my ribs, dragging me along the river floor. My eyes dimmed, the pain in my chest demanding air air air.

Then I was surging upward.

Bjorn lifted me above the surface, and I gasped in a precious mouthful as the river tore us downstream and around a bend.

“Get to the bank!” Bjorn shouted. “Swim, Freya!”

Kicking hard, I kept my eyes on the edge of the river, fighting my way through the current. Rocks banged against my legs, bruising and scraping my flesh. I ignored the pain and swam. Finally, coughing and spluttering, I dragged myself onto the bank of the river, every inch of me aching. Only when I was able to breathe again did I round on Bjorn, who was on his hands and knees hacking up half the river. “Have you lost your mind?”

He rolled onto his back, staring at the sky, strands of his dark hair plastered against his face. “Says the woman who tried to throw herself off a cliff.”

My stomach tightened. “I was trying to stop the battle. I was trying to take away their reason to fight.”