In a village far from the cave, far from the massacre that had happened so many years ago, Brenna visited a merchant.

No longer was she recognized, no longer did she fear being discovered by her father or the abusive husband she’d once had.

Still, she covered her hair, wore a scarf so it would hide part of her face, because, ultimately, she did wonder if she’d be found out. If Calder would be discovered. If the Valkyrie would wreak havoc on her life.

She ran the fabric the merchant carried between her fingertips, knowing his was not something she’d be able to afford. She’d chosen her life, and she did not regret it. Fabrics from far away were not to be a part of it.

A wonderful mate and three healthy sons were the path she’d taken.

She had no qualms regarding the choices she’d made.

“You have fine sons,” a voice said.

Brenna knew that voice, but had not heard it in years and years. She turned slowly to face the speaker.

She stared at the woman. She knew her.

Freyja.

That Freyja knew of her family was a frightful thought. This witch was not to be trifled with. Brenna remained calm, no small task. She looked around to be sure they had no witnesses or eavesdroppers. “You know I have more than one?”

Freyja nodded. “I do. And like their father, they cannot shift.”

Brenna lowered the fabric, stepped closer to Freyja to keep their conversation even more private. “Because of you.”

Freyja’s smile was tight. “Because of the action they took against our own people. The atrocities.”

Brenna acknowledged with a nod. It was not untrue; the clansmen of Calder had not been good to Freyja’s village. “So, you know of my sons, and my mate.”

Freyja inclined her head. “I do.”

“And yet you’ve not sought to harm them. Us.”

“You spared my niece.”

Brenna cocked her head, studying the almost-unaging witch. “Eerika?”

Freyja rewarded her with a slight smile. “My youngest sister’s firstborn.”

“She saved me once, long ago,” Brenna added, and then the thought occurred to her. A thought that made her flesh crawl and her blood run through her body with the burn of ice water. “And now? Will you seek to exact revenge on my sons?”

Freyja shook her head. “I shall not, but their kind will always do battle with the women of my daughter’s descendants. They’ll be locked in an eternal struggle that can only be solved in one of two ways. The eradication of either breed, which would end all the battling, or if the berserkers learn how to turn their kind back into shifters.”

“You could put an end to this, Freyja. It is in your power.”

“It no longer is.”

“How can that be?”

“My daughter Helga and Eerika are no longer alive. Killed in battle. Astrid has moved the Valkyrie into hiding.”

“You are a powerful witch. You can find them if you wish. You can change the course of this.”

“Oh, but I cannot change the course. I cannot reverse my spell. And I cannot find the Valkyrie. They have located a council of witches whose joint power exceeds my own. Their spell keeps my seekers from finding the Valkyrie. And now that Helga is no longer with them, I have no blood connection to use to see.”

Brenna exhaled. “And so, it is to be like this? Forever more?”

Freyja shrugged. “There are ways to change the course, but those are not for me to speak.”

* * *

Brenna entered the cabin and dropped the bag of sundries she’d acquired at the traveling merchant’s.

No Calder. No sons.

She stepped outside just in time to see them entering the clearing.

Four fine figures of men. She filled with pride at the sight of them, thankful they were hale and hearty.

Her gaze centered on Calder, who still made her heart beat faster and her body course with a heat she’d never lost.

His gaze locked with hers.

He pointed to Torsten and Halvar. “The boys have done some fine hunting.”

She smiled at her sons. “I see it was a good trip for you.”

“And yours?” he asked.

She’d keep her secret, she decided. “It was a good trip as well. The merchant had much to choose from.”

He stepped closer, kissing her lips, the amber flame of his bear flickered in the depths of his eyes.

She savored the taste of his lips, wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I am happy you are home,” she whispered. “Finally.”

“Always.”