I should have left when everyone else had. Now I was probably going to die…or worse.

We’d only known they were coming, had heard they were destroying, taking, making it their own, such a short time ago. But we’d run out of time. They were here, and I was the only one still present, making sure everyone had evacuated safely. This was our home, and of course everyone wanted to defend it, but we weren’t fools either.

We wanted to survive.

It was the middle of the night, the moon high, the glow paving the way for their quest, for their destruction. There was no time to gather anything more than what I’d already packed.

They’d conquer me if I didn’t leave now.

They’d own me, destroy me.

Savages. They were beasts, barely human, running on instinct to control, to pillage.

The scent of fire, of my home burning, slammed into me so hard I couldn’t breathe. Tears tracked down my cheeks, and I was unable to stem them, didn’t even try. I grabbed my pack, which held only the essentials, and picked up the small blade. If I had to fight, to protect myself, I’d do it with every ounce of strength I possessed. I sneaked out the back, hearing grunts and roars from the men intent on taking what wasn’t theirs.

I’d make my way through the forest, toward the creek, and keep going until I hit the next village. The others, who had escaped in time, would have already warned them, and they would have already moved out. I doubted I’d even be able to catch up with them. I wasn’t a hunter, and definitely not a tracker. I’d be searching for them, but probably dead long before I ever reached them.

God, such a depressing thought, that my life could end before it even started.

But they’d escaped. That was all that mattered.

“Where are you going?” The gruff words came from behind me, and before I could run, someone grabbed my hair and yanked me back. I cried out, my pack dropping to the ground as I reached for the strands, trying to pry his hands off or at least ease the pain. I still held the knife, keeping it close to my side, ready to use it when I was in a better position. Or, I’d try to use it.

He dragged me back to the center of the village and tossed me to the ground. I was crying hard, my eyes blurry, my heart racing.

And then they came forward, moving closer, their dirty faces, their huge bodies and horned hats looking frightening, like they were demons sent to rain down on us, to torment us.

I knew what was to come, but I’d fight them tooth and nail, make sure they hurt before they brought me under. I swung out, the beast in front of me having his head turned and not seeing what I was about to do. The blade sliced right into his gut, but I wasn’t sure how deep it went, seeing the layers he wore. He grunted, and I got a bit of pleasure knowing I’d at least hurt him.

I expected the blows to come, the pain that would surely be inflicted on me after what I’d done, but I’d still fight to the end.

The sound of a battle cry wrenched through the air. The men around me took a fighting stance. I searched the village, seeing nothing but flames and smoke. The shadows crept around where the flames didn’t lick.

A grunt.

A cry of pain.

The scent of blood in the air.

The feeling of the savages life force covering me.

It all hit me suddenly, and I fell forward, bracing my hands in the dirt, my breathing labored. I could hear fighting all around me, and I expected any second that final blow that would end my life.

But it never came. And when the silence stretched on, I lifted my head and looked around. The Vikings who’d destroyed my village lay around me, their bodies bloody and broken. My heart thundered, my throat was dry, and I couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t just the thick smoke that surrounded me like a cloak, but my fear of what was out there. Of who had killed my enemy.

I prayed to the gods it was the former.

And then I heard heavy footsteps coming closer, but the fire raged on, making it impossible to see anything. I tried to stand, but my legs didn’t want to work. I heard my heart thundering in my ears, felt the pulse at the base of my neck.

The man who came into view was not a savior, a hero that had saved the day. He might have killed the men who’d hurt me, but he was still a Viking. His horned hat, the leather, fur, and blood from his enemies that he wore making it known he’d seen violence…he’d delivered it himself. But although he was the same as the ones who’d terrorized my village, he’d also killed them, stopped them before they could take from me what wasn’t freely offered.

And then I saw two more men step up behind him. It was clear they were with him. Their focus was intense, their attention trained right on me. They started speaking in a dialect I wasn’t familiar with. When the Viking in front of me started to speak, this time to me, I could only shake my head. I didn’t know if they meant me harm, or if they were worse than the ones they’d killed.

“Please, I don’t understand. I don’t know what’s happening.” I lifted my hands, knowing they were shaking, knowing they probably didn’t understand me either.

“You’re afraid of us.” The one I’d seen first spoke to me, his words clear and his accent thick. He knew my language.

“Yes,” I whispered. There wasn’t any point in lying. He could see how clear my fear was. It was written along my body, in telltale signs.

“You have nothing to fear from us.” He held his hand out to me, and although maybe I still should have been afraid, should have tried to outrun them, to escape, the truth was I did feel safe. I didn’t know if they were telling me the truth, but they’d killed the men who had destroyed my home, and had been about to do unspeakable things to me. They could have harmed me ten times over by now, but they didn’t, they hadn’t.

So I lifted my shaking hand and slipped it into his bigger one, his palm covered in blood, his strength clear.

He helped me to stand, and I had to crane my neck back to stare into his face. He was huge, his body wide, muscular. I could see his eyes, a bright blue that didn’t look soft. I could see the violence and danger reflected in them, staring right into my very being. I was aware of the destruction around us, of the bodies littering our feet. I could even feel the other two men watching us.

I knew I should say something, anything, but I was lost in this hazy feeling of … warmth.

And then he leaned down slightly so we were eye to eye. He lifted his hand, cupped my cheek, and said in a voice so deep, so masculine I couldn’t help but shiver, “You’re mine, female.”

I didn’t know what my fate was, but at this point I had nothing else to lose.