Free The Viking's Witch by Kelli Wilkins Page A

whispered.
    He looked in the direction she was staring, then spotted the thing hanging upside down from a wooden post.
    What was left of the man twitched and twisted in the breeze. One glance told him all he needed to know. Someone had made the villager into a blood eagle. His back had been cracked open, his ribs broken, and his lungs pulled out and spread across his back like wings. Blood dripped down his chest, covering his face in a crimson mask.
    “Come with me. You shouldn’t see this.” He reached out to touch Odaria’s shoulder, and she flinched away.
    “Don’t touch me.” She looked at him, her green eyes filled with terror. “What sort of demons are you? What is that?”
    He rested his hand on her shoulder and glanced at the men watching them. Now he understood why Karnik had feigned such concern over the welfare of the villagers. His men had disobeyed a direct order to not harm anyone.The blood eagle was barbaric, even by their standards. Why had they done it? For sport? How had the villager gotten free of the net?
    If he were alone, he would chastise Karnik’s men for what they’d done, but he had to think about Odaria’s safety. He had to get her back to the gathering hall, then reprimand the men.
    Odaria shrieked and clutched his hand. He looked over and saw the man hanging from the post wave his arms. He was still alive—but not for long.
    Without hesitation, he scooped Odaria into his arms. He spun her away from the church and kissed her forehead. “You are safe with me. I’ll let no harm come to you.” Grown men had been driven mad at the sight of the blood eagle, and Odaria was a sensitive woman. Could her mind withstand such horror?
    “I canna take no more,” she whispered before she went limp in his arms.

    Rothgar leapt from the chair and rushed to the side of the small bed. He watched, helpless, as Odaria twitched and whimpered in her sleep. Her brows furrowed, and she kicked beneath the sheepskin quilt.
    Three hours had passed since he’d carried her away from the sight of the blood eagle, yet she hadn’t woken. Should he rouse her? It was dangerous to disturb a sleeping person, but if her dream was terrifying her, he couldn’t let her suffer.
    He shook her shoulder lightly. “Odaria, wake up,” he whispered.
    Odaria woke with a scream and sat straight up in bed. She clutched the quilt to her chest as she looked at him.
    “Easy. You are safe. It was merely a dream.”
    She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Nay. That was no dream. That thing …” She started to cry. “It came after me, and I couldna get away.”
    He drew her into his arms and held her. Poor girl. She’d been through so much in the short time he’d known her. What could he say to calm her fears?
    “What was it?” Odaria pulled from his arms and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “That creature. I’ve never seen anything like it before. Where did it come from?”
    He stood and crossed the room. Should he tell Odaria about the blood eagle? If she knew his fellow Nordmenn were responsible for creating it, she might hate him—if she didn’t hate him already. He took a silver cup off the chest of drawers and carried it to the bed. “Here, drink this.”
    She took the cup in her shaking left hand and eyed him suspiciously. “What’s in it?”
    “Rum and water. It will settle you.”
    “’Twill take more than a bit of weak rum to settle me. I’ll not sleep for a month.” She sipped the drink. “Seeing that thing swinging from the post … If I had a weak heart, I woulda dropped dead where I stood.”
    He sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor. The guilt over how he had treated Odaria still gnawed at him. She was his precious treasure, and yet in one morning he’d done everything possible to cause her to hate him. He wanted to make amends.
    Odaria coughed and handed the cup back to him. “I canna drink no more. Me stomach’s not strong after seeing that … What was it?”
    He