A Fate Inked in Blood by Danielle L. Jensen EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Danielle L. Jensen
- Language: English
- Genre: Viking Historical Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
My mother taught me many skills to ensure I’d make a good
wife to my husband. How to cook and clean. How to weave
and sew. Where to hunt and gather. She’d have been better off
teaching me the restraint needed not to stab said husband when he proved
himself a short-witted drunkard with an acid tongue…
For my temper was being sorely tested today.
“What are you doing?” Vragi demanded, his breath reeking of mead as
he bent over my shoulder.
“Exactly what it looks like.” I ran the tip of my knife down the fish’s
belly, its innards spilling outward. “Cleaning the catch.”
Huffing out an aggrieved breath, Vragi jerked the knife from my hand,
nearly slicing open my palm. Snatching up another fish, he opened its belly
and scooped out the innards into a bloody pile before stabbing the tip of my
knife into the wooden block, his technique identical to my own. “You see?”
“I know how to gut a fish,” I said between my teeth, every part of me
desiring to gut him. “I’ve gutted thousands of fish.”
“I don’t like the way you do it.” His lip curled. “The way you do it is
wrong. People complain.”
That much was true, but it wasn’t complaints about fish guts.
My dear husband was a child of the gods, having been granted a drop of
Njord’s blood at his conception, which gave him powerful magic over the
creatures of the sea. Except instead of using it to care for our people, he
used his magic to deprive other fishermen of any catch even as he filled his
own nets. Then he charged double what the fish were worth of the very
people whose nets he kept empty.
Everyone knew it. But no one dared speak a word against him. He was
Vragi the Savior, the man who’d delivered Selvegr from famine when the
crops had failed ten years past, drawing in fish from the North Sea to fill
bellies, ensuring no one went without.
A hero, everyone had called him. And maybe once that was so, but fame
and greed had vanquished the generosity that had earned him the title, and
now people spat at his name even as they honored him with an annual feast.
That no one had put a knife in his back was mostly because he had the
protection of the jarl.
But not entirely.
“We all do best to remember we might need his magic again, Freya,” my
mother told me when I griped. “You would do best to remember that he
brings wealth to your home.”
Wealth.
It was the reason my father had agreed—despite my vocal protests—to
Vragi’s proposal of marriage. Yet instead of living to see his error, my
father had died on my wedding night, leaving everyone to mutter about bad
omens and ill-fated matches. If it had truly been a message from the gods,
they need not have bothered: I’d known from the moment Vragi had stuck
his foul tongue in my mouth in front of all the guests that this marriage
would be a curse.
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