One of the biggest complaints about Ægir’s Captive (and legitimately so) was how spineless that Kirsty seemed. But over the course of three books and 100,000+ words she has grown and changed. The transformation as she came to understand her true power as a woman…and a submissive…has been both marked and remarkable (even to me as the writer).
Mikael smiled as he obliged his wife as she pulled them both through the ship towards the captain’s cabin where it had all began. It was not just his daughter or brother that had changed from the moment they stepped on board the ship. Their wife had too.
He rifled through the half a dozen languages he knew searching for the right word…inhalt, contenu, vrede, paz and all their English variation. None seemed to quite cover the woman who stood before them. Contented. At peace. Confident. Whole.
He was certain her pregnancy had at least something to do with it. At trite as it sounded, Kirsty truly did glow. Her fair skin shone with health. Her cheeks were the perfect rudy rose that no cosmetic could match. And those always full lips begged…
With a gentle tug to her hand, he drew them to a halt just outside the privacy they sought. He drew her against him as he softly brushed hair back from her face. He loved the way that her top teeth chewed her bottom lip nervously and how large those green eyes got as they stared up at him. He could almost feel the tension and need strumming through her ripe body.
It had been hell last night with her pressed between them in that too tiny bed. This one was no better but at least they would be free to lovingly explore every centimeter of their wife’s body together. It was not a pleasure they had shared since the night these little girls were conceived. And though they were still one brother short, he was certain that somehow he and Bjorn could manage…for now at least.
“This time you enter this cabin as our wife, not our captive. Do you do so of your own freewill, lilla gumman?”
He held her gaze and his breath as the moisture clouded those green fields. The muscles in her throat contracted, moving up and down as she swallowed. She nodded her head slowly, but still he restrained her.
A simple nod would not suffice this time. The path that lie ahead would not be easy. He better than any of them knew that. He was after all the one who had borne the brunt of their mother’s travails as she struggled to truly accept her fate.
Could Kirsty do so more easily? He certainly hoped so. He knew that he and Bjorn would do all in their power to make her load as light as possible. But he had learned the hard way that relationships took both people trying. In their case, everyone. After what Kirsty had revealed, he was even more confident now that Sven too would come around.
But she was the cornerstone. It was not chance that had lead their mother’s to adopt the Norwegian name Petrine. The rock. After her trials in the fire, she had like her mythological Phoenix emerged from the ashes of Rachel as just that. He was not fooled though. He knew that was a choice, her decision.
And he was forcing it upon their wife now as he waited for the words that might determine their fate. He held his breath and prayed to every god in Asgard, but especially to her…Freyja. The goddess of love, fertility…and battle.
Their life had always been a war against Njörd and Rán to eke out an existence from their seas. Perhaps never more so than now as small family fishing business were pushed aside by mega-corporations. As the fish themselves were threatened, some to the point of extinction by pollution and over-fishing. But that was the history of their family and why only a true shieldmaiden of Freyja would do as the bride.
He knew that Bjorn had chosen well, better than he or Sven would have. The only question was…did she? Did Kirsty understand her power now? And was she ready to stand into it? He waited…