Read Online Enthralled: Viking Lore, Book 1 by Emma Prince - Free Book Online

head slipped below the water. She held her breath as she’d learned to do in
the chair, but this time, there would be no one to pull her back up. Still, she
fought with all her strength. Her kicking legs tangled in her gown. Her hands
uselessly clawed at the sea, finding no purchase. Her lungs burned as she
struggled upward.
    Her head broke the
surface and she inhaled hard, taking some of the sea into her lungs along with
the treasured air. She forced her eyes open despite the sting of the saltwater
dripping into them. The Viking ship had already glided past her, yet she
thought she could hear faint shouts from on board.
    A splashing near her
drew her attention for a fraction of a moment.
    “Eir—”
    Sea water flooded her
mouth, swallowing her cry for help. The ocean pulled her down once more, but
this time, she didn’t have a chance to take a deep breath before the cold
silence surrounded her.
    Her limbs grew feeble
as she tried to claw her way toward the blessed air. She felt herself drifting
down, too weak to fight against the force of the ocean’s pull.
    Suddenly a rock-hard
arm wrapped around her. There was a rush of water around her body, but she
couldn’t tell if she was going up or down. Perhaps a sea monster had claimed
her, pulling her into its den beneath the waves, she thought dimly. The water
felt warm and soft now, like a bed of down feathers.
    Her head exploded
through the water’s surface, waking her from her dream. She tried to inhale,
but water clogged her lungs. She was racked by a coughing fit as the salty
water expelled itself from her chest and stomach. Finally she could take a gulp
of air into her burning, crumpled lungs.
    “’Tis all right. I’ve
got you.”
    Eirik’s rough voice
filtered through her mind. Was it his hard arm still wrapped around her waist?
Was it his strong body holding them both up at the water’s surface?
    Eirik shouted something
behind her, and she blinked her eyes open. The Viking ship, which a moment
before had been dwindling in her vision, was now barreling down on them. But it
was the carved serpent’s tail that rose above the ship’s stern drawing nigh,
not the serpent’s head on the prow. Long wooden oars bristled from each side of
the ship. They stroked in unison, tugging against the sea.
    Someone shouted
something in response from the ship, and a moment later, a rope sailed through
the air. She felt Eirik’s body jerk as he snatched the rope with one hand,
never loosening his grip on her.
    Then they were both
being lifted out of the water and into the air. Hands reached toward them and
pulled them over the ship’s gunwale. They both fell into a sodden heap on the
deck, Eirik’s arm still holding her to his hard chest.
    Laurel blinked up into
the vivid blue sky, more spent and grateful than she’d ever been. Two heads
leaned over her, blocking some of the light. One was the Viking woman, and the
other was a man who looked remarkably like her. She’d seen him talking to Eirik
before.
    They both started
talking at once, but she couldn’t understand a word they said. Eirik sat up
next to her, pulling her upright with him. He responded to them wearily in
their language. Laurel paid no heed to what they said. She was content to lean
back against Eirik’s broad chest, feel his arm wrapped around her middle, and
stare up at the cloudless sky. She inhaled air greedily, the salt burning her
nostrils, but she didn’t care.
    All too quickly, her
euphoria was shattered.
    Grimar stepped before
them, his face turned down in ire. He spoke tersely to Eirik, who answered just
as sharply. A look of surprise transformed Grimar’s face for a moment, but then
his features dropped into an even darker rage. A flutter of murmurs rose around
her.
    “What is happening,
Eirik?” she breathed, looking between the two men. “What is he saying?”
    Grimar spat on the deck
right in front of them and turned, storming toward the bow.
    “He demanded that you
be returned to him,”