A Viking's Catch (Book One of the Sogn Series)

Chapter Four

Clare tossed and turned beneath the covers as flashes of her dead father and townspeople haunted her dreams. She could not will herself to overcome the guilt that plagued her like a disease, opening something in her that she had only felt so many times before. It was a sickening feeling that twisted inside of her, a feeling that she often felt when she thought of her mother who had died giving birth to her.

When sleep did find her, it was momentarily and almost fake in the sense that she did not receive nearly enough energy for what was about to occur.

Roald had knocked twice but Clare did not hear. Perhaps it was because she was so exhausted that she could not bring herself to watch him enter, or maybe it was because she just did not want to. Though, she was forced to look at the Viking as he took a seat next to her form. He caressed the side of her arm, as if touching a delicate flower whose petals could fall in an instant, or wilt upon contact. It seemed that she was very much like such a flower, because she shrinked away from him immediately, and closed her eyes so that he could not see what emotion she felt.

Roald breathed out a heavy breath, and demanded, "Look at me."

Clare did not want to but did not have much of a choice as he reached out to caress her arm again. When her eyelids opened, Roald saw the raw emotion of pain in her eyes and immediately took note to it, "You may be grieving now, but you are a strong woman and will overcome all that has happened."

Something in him almost seemed sympathetic, but Clare ignored it. She did not want to empathize with the man who very well destroyed her peaceful life, and instead she sat up and snapped back, "What do you know of overcoming grief? All you have ever done is cause it for those who do not deserve such hardship."

"No," he retorted, "You are naive and do not know what hardships I have been through myself. Maybe, there will be a time when you become knowledgeable on the subject, but this is apparently no time to share such experiences, for you do not try to understand even the shallowest of my motives."

Clare glared at him, her green orbs resembling that of a raging sea, "What motives do you have for ruining my life?"

His eyes went wide for the briefest of moments and then quickly became serious again, "Like I said before, to give you a better life."

She shook her head, "You will never be able to make me happy, and I am convinced that all I can provide you is false hope in the subject of fulfilling a matrimony that will not occur."

"Oh, but that is where you are wrong, my dear." He hissed, venom lacing his tone dangerously, "There will be a matrimony between the two of us, whether you are willing or forced."

Clare shut her mouth, all too knowing that she would fail at trying to convince him otherwise. Even though she had no doubt that Roald would try and force her to marry him, only she knew that he would only attempt at doing so. Clare would not let him marry her, whether he gave her a new life or she took her own.

"I will have Isibel bring you clean clothes, but until then, I suggest you overcome the daring look in your eyes and bring yourself to understand my intentions. We leave this morning, to go back to my land. If you wish for my people to take a kind liking to you, then you must be more appreciative of what you have instead of what you do not have. Do you understand?"

Clare gave him a sad look, and she feared his answer to her next question, "And what is it that I have?"

He smiled at that, "Me."

He got up and left after saying that one word, leaving Clare to her thoughts.

Isibel did bring her some clean clothes, and just like the night before, she did not seem too satisfied on the idea of providing for her future Jarl's wife. If only she knew that Clare did not want to be a jarl's wife, and especially no ruler of pagans.