Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 59320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
“Erik!” I shrieked, but Ross didn’t stop. He twisted the blade in Erik’s chest, pulling back to strike again.
I had no time to think as my body moved on pure instinct. Grabbing the sword from Erik’s side, I thrust it upward, my hands shaking with adrenaline. The blade caught Ross right through the throat, cutting off his vicious laugh as blood sprayed out in a hot torrent. His body crumpled to the ground in a lifeless heap.
I dropped the sword and rushed to Erik’s side, where he was slumped over, his hand pressed desperately against his chest. His face was pale, his breath coming in shallow, gasping breaths. I had to keep him alive. I couldn’t lose him—not now, not when we had just started building a future together.
“Erik!” I cried, my voice breaking. My hands hovered over his wound, trying to stop the bleeding, but I could feel his life slipping away. He was fading fast.
“Please don’t die on me, Erik,” I begged. I pressed my hands down harder, but his blood kept spilling out. The panic in my chest grew with every second. “You can’t leave me, not now. We have a child, Erik. Please, you have to stay with us.”
Erik’s head lolled to the side, his lips dry, his eyes barely open. He coughed weakly, blood flecking his mouth. I could hear the approach of townsfolk, their footsteps hurried and filled with concern, but it was too late. The wound was too deep. He would die if I didn’t do something fast.
I leaned over him, brushing the hair from his forehead, my heart shattering in my chest. “Please, Erik, don’t leave me.” I kissed his hand, holding it to my lips, squeezing it as tightly as I could. “You have to stay with me. You promised, Erik. We promised each other.”
His lips barely parted, and his voice was strained. “Cherine…tu es…mon Valhalla.”
I gasped as his words struck my heart. He had found peace, but I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let him go. Not like this.
“I will never leave you,” he whispered. The words were faint, but they still rang true. With one final, trembling breath, he squeezed my hand.
He seemed to slip away, and the world crumbled beneath me. His body relaxed in my arms, his warmth fading. I closed my eyes, feeling the full weight of my grief.
No, no, no.
But then, there was a sudden, shuddering breath.
I opened my eyes, and Erik gasped, his chest rising with a deep intake of air. His lips parted, and a weak smile stretched across his face.
“Erik!” I cried, tears spilling down my cheeks as I clung to him.
“Cherine,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice cracking with emotion. His hand, which had gone limp in mine, now tightened, holding on to me with all his strength. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The sound of Trude and the villagers approaching was a distant hum in the background. They helped us back to our home, ensuring Erik received the care he needed to heal. His wound was deep, but the healers were hopeful, thanking the gods the blade had missed his heart. They said he would recover, but it would take time.
We spent the next few weeks in quiet peace, surrounded by the love of our family and the villagers who had embraced us. And though we had faced so much darkness, we had emerged from it stronger, together.
And now, a new chapter had begun, one filled with love, with hope, and with the promise of a future we would build side by side. I knew there would be more challenges, but for the first time, I wasn’t afraid. I had Erik by my side, and together, we could face anything.
And with the baby on the way, our family would only grow stronger.
The nightmare of the past had come for us, but we fought.
We survived.
And now, finally, we were free.
Epilogue
CHERINE
One year had passed since the night Ross attacked us and Erik almost died. I still couldn't believe how close we had come to losing him. I had spent so many nights since watching him sleep, my heart a constant reminder of how fragile life could be. But now, as I sat beside the fire, watching Erik hold our son, Leif, I couldn’t help but feel that everything had fallen into place. Life had a way of surprising us, of giving us something we never thought we could have.
Now, somehow, I had everything.
Leif had just turned six months old, and he was growing faster than I could keep up with. His little face was a mix of Erik and me—his grey eyes mimicked the morning fog on the fjord like Erik’s, while his dark curls and the faint curve of his lips were all me. He was perfect, and I had never felt more complete than I did when I held him in my arms.