Bjorn Cursed (Forgotten Brotherhood #4) - N.J. Walters

Chapter One

Where am I?

She blinked several times, hardly daring to breathe. It was impossible to hear anything over the pounding of her heart.

Something firm and rough dug into her back. She spun around and ran her fingers over it. Not stone or wood, but some kind of uniform blocks that felt hard.

Light began to filter into the darkness that had swallowed her. She clung to the wall, not willing to go back to wherever she’d come from without a fight. The pure nothingness was terrifying. Even her screams had been silent, swallowed by the never-ending void.

She curled her fingers into the rough construction material. The tips burned, the pain helping to ground her. She panted hard, pulling air into her starving lungs. She needed to be silent, so she slapped her hand over her mouth and breathed through her nose. In and out. In and out. Her chest ached and her mouth was dry.

With one arm wrapped around her middle, she crouched, making herself as small as possible. When her vision finally adjusted to the dim light, she glanced around. There was a building across from her, tall and unlike anything she’d ever seen before.

She tilted her head back and stared. Chill bumps ran down her arms. It wasn’t a wall she was leaning against but another such building. Nothing was recognizable.

I need to hide.

There was some kind of large metal box in front of her. It would give her some protection while she came up with a plan. Staying low, she crept along the edge of the structure, her soft-soled leather boots making no noise. She placed each foot carefully, while keeping an eye out for possible danger.

A vile stench wafted from the box. She screwed up her nose. It was disgusting, but that could work in her favor, as it would likely keep others away. Not many would willingly venture too close.

Her entire body sagged when she reached her destination without incident. Resting her head against the cool metal, she sighed. It wasn’t much, but it gave her something to hide behind and a small measure of safety. She started to teeter and placed her hand on the ground to steady herself.

Her hand skidded. Something sharp sliced against her palm. She gritted her teeth against the pain, not wanting to cry out. Blood seeped from her hand in a thin red line. It wasn’t too bad, but the flow needed to be staunched.

Sweat made her clothes cling to her body, but she gripped the frayed edge of her linen tunic and yanked. As quietly as possible, she managed to tear a strip from the bottom and wrap it around her hand. The gash should be cleansed, but that would have to wait. Stopping the bleeding was more important.

She ran her sweaty palms over the linen trousers, leaving a line of blood behind.

Noise filtered into her senses—strange, unidentifiable sounds. A horn of some kind pealed in the distance.

She couldn’t stay here forever. Closing her eyes, she drew a cloak of courage around her and pushed to her feet. “You can do this.”

With one hand on the metal structure for support, she peeked around the edge. The light was brighter at the far end of the buildings. She hesitated and swallowed, or tried to. She was thirsty, hungry, and dirty. Keeping her back to the wall, she edged toward the light and distant sounds.

She’d gotten only halfway there when three men walked by. Sensing danger, she froze, but they caught the movement and paused.

One of the men stepped toward her. “Hey, pretty lady. What are you doing out here so late at night all by yourself?”

A pain lashed through her head, her stomach churned. The man wasn’t speaking Norse, but English.

Where am I?

The lust reflected in his eyes needed no translation. These men would take what they wanted. She’d seen their likes before. There was no safety to be found behind her.

I should have stayed where I was, or at least found a weapon first.

Scanning the ground, she searched for anything she could use to defend herself. The muscles in her legs tensed. If she could get around them, she could run. In her weakened state, there was no way she could defeat three men.

Her hands curled into fists. She would fight them to the death.

“Find her. Destroy her.” Odin glared at him with his one good eye.

Adrenaline surged through Bjorn Knutson’s bloodstream. His wolf paced and growled inside him, demanding release. The walls of the motel room were suddenly too