Midnight Eclipse (Paranormal Viking Romance, Completed)

Chapter 13: Hope Is Dead

Greenland, present day

Waking up, my chest is filled with suffocating dread. I can't breathe. I can't think. I can't make sense of anything. Bubbling blood flow into my lungs. Air is running out. Light is fading. Shadows are moving in on me, promising eternal darkness.

Am I now or then? Am I Saga or Björn? Does it matter? Present time and history blur into one as the last memories of a desperate Viking become mine through forces unknown. The memories that are all that remain of him seem to fill the room. They want someone to hear them. They want me to listen.

Björn is dead. Hope is dead. Love is dead.

The darkness dissipated as I open my eyes. Light peers in between the blinds, reminding me who I am.

My chest isn't penetrated by a dagger, at least not a physical one. As I relish in the sun's rays, air once again fills my lungs. The fog lifts in my sleep-scrambled head.

I know who I am. I am Saga. I am alive. I am here and now. But other knowledge also entrenches in me. I remember that I have once again been following a foolish path, chasing the mythical concept of love.

Love couldn't thrive on these shores six hundred years ago, my dreams have told me that, and it seems it can't thrive in the present time either. Love is doomed, no matter the era.

After the boat tour yesterday, Mikk left me to explore the city on my own while he continued working. Afterward, the plan was for us to meet up in the afternoon, but I bailed out, blaming a headache. Because the last thing I wanted was another confrontation with a man I thought I meant something to. But I knew I wouldn't have been able to avoid it, as I'm also done pretending everything is fine when in fact, the whole world is breaking at the seams.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand. It has done so frequently all morning. I've ignored it. If it's Mikk, he can go feed himself to the closest bear (who on these shores probably isn't far away). And if it's Stefan, well, becoming bear dinner isn't a cruel enough fate for him. Perhaps a T-rex would be better suited to snack on him.

In theory, I know Mikk hasn't betrayed me. Any previous vacation flings were way before we met. And really, whatever we had wasn't supposed to be more than a fling either. But it still feels like he was trying to pull a wool over my eyes when he made me feel like I was special when I was in fact just another Tuesday. I thought he saw me, the real me, when all he saw was another conquest.

With a huff, I kick the blankets--as I've made myself a cocoon of warmth, aided by every blanket I could find--off myself, the cold air doing nothing to temper my anger. I figure I can just as well get up, instead of cursing every man in existence over and over while tossing between the sheets.

Fucking men! Perhaps I should indulge my bicurious side and try something new. Although I would miss certain parts of the opposite sex. Fucking men... is something I, unfortunately, enjoy way too much to switch teams.

I have to admit I'm a bit regretful about not exploring what Mikk had to offer in that department before I cut ties with him. Those big hands of his did make me curious about other parts.

Perhaps he would still be up for some exploration...

"No, Saga!" a loud voice yells in my head. It's not a departed Viking talking this time but rather common sense. Old boring common sense. I probably should listen to what it has to say though.

To distract myself from improper thoughts, I grab my still buzzing phone from the nightstand. A slew of notifications are waiting for me, most of them from Slack, the communication app used by my development team at work. I pull the app up and I'm greeted by an army of red dots where people have tagged me, confused and concerned about my whereabouts.