Read Chapter 1 of Treacherous Sand…

Legends & Predators prequel novella about the Viking twins of Sandire …

Chapter One 

Riker

Heat reflected off the sand. Smoldering, it stole my every breath and dried my throat on every inhale. My breaths came quick and hot, scraping my throat whenever I dared to swallow. It felt as if the heat had crawled inside my body.

Not a single grain whirled with the faintest of hot breezes. To add to the misery, there was minimal protection from the sun, most of the shade coming from the tarps hanging between the houses.

The packed bodies didn’t help with the intensity by any means.

Since I was only partially standing under one of the few tarps, the sun’s rays were free to beam down on the half of me I couldn’t fit underneath, burning my arm. Surveying the crowd, I monitored every person who walked by. Especially if someone drew too close for my liking. I glowered at those who came within a few feet.

I refused to be pushed farther into the sun.

Holding my sister’s basket in a grip that could bring a man to his knees—perhaps even kill him, if I wished it—I watched her scurry from one doorstep to the next.

Enough goods had been collected from the realms of Urute and Nedfin that the village banded together to start a market early this morning. Naturally, it just so happened to fall on the most sweltering day we’d had in weeks.

As I’d finished surveying our surroundings to find Annora again, she turned away from the merchant woman she had been bartering with, carrying a long sword ornately decorated with silver accents and making her way back to me. The hilt she gripped was browner than the darkest tree bark, the markings glimmering in the intense sunlight.

Forged luxuries were abundant in Sandire, thanks to our blacksmiths, but Annora could never pass up a shiny new weapon.

There was no doubt she had picked the most expensive weapon in the whole damn market. I also held no doubt she would slash her way into Valhalla with such a righteous weapon. Annora had more courage in her veins than anyone I knew.

As she drew closer, a smile tugged on her lips.

My frown deepened, however.

Annora forced her way through the bodies until she stood beside me, squeezing herself under the tarp and pushing me farther into the sun. I grimaced at her with narrowed eyes. We were close to the same height, so she had no trouble taking in my sharp stare. Her blue eyes flashed with amusement, and she knew it would not go beyond my notice.

“Can’t you at least pretend to be enjoying yourself?” she asked me, strapping her new sword to the leather belt that hung around the waist of her dress.

“Why would I be enjoying myself? It’s hotter than Hel itself out here and I’m stuck carrying around your basket like a goat.” My voice had turned hoarse, the dryness scratching with every word.

She sighed. “You’re such a grouch. How often is it that Sandire has such a prosperous market? There are so many things you could be looking at—buying—yet you’re standing here growling at everyone who passes. You’re no better than a beast.”

Instead of answering, I returned to monitoring the crowd.

“Other people are allowed to have fun. They’re supposed to be enjoying themselves—it’s the whole point of this. You’re supposed to be enjoying yourself, too.”

A few caught sight of us. A few murmured mentions of us. However, none stopped to speak to us, and none looked at us for long.

Most eyes went to Annora first, who either didn’t feel the weight of the stares or didn’t care.

Their stares settled on me once they felt my eyes on them. Then their eyes went to the ax resting at my hip. My fingers twitched to grip its trusty hilt. Rather than touching it in warning, I gave them a searing scowl that had them moving along quickly.

I knew why they looked. Not only was I the leader of our most powerful warriors, Illska Sandr, but I was also the son of the Viking King. And eyes always went to Annora first because she was the daughter of the Viking King. The eldest of his children. Heir to his ruling title.

Though, most men saw opportunity when they looked at her. I was here to ensure they caught my glowering stare and bristled away.

“Where are Mother and Keyon?” Annora asked, not without releasing a loud, displeased sigh first, giving up on her attempts to convince me to let my focus go anywhere other than watching for potential threats.

Grinning at her defeat, I said, “They wandered off. Some of us grow tired of waiting on you.”

Her eyes narrowed, her grip on her new sword tightening as if she were imagining taking its blade to my head. My grin only widened.

“I like looking at everything—”

I scuffed before she could finish. “We haven’t passed a weapon you haven’t touched, Annora.”

“There’s a lot to see!” she defended, her smile tugging higher as her gaze swept over the people. “We hardly ever have markets.”

“We live in the middle of the desert. It’s not like people want to bring us anything of value often.”

“Rather than training your warriors, you could be out searching for things to bring back.”

I fought an eye roll. Shiny distractions were the last thing she needed.

“We bring back plenty with our hunts,” I told her.

“Yet their filth still poisons the lands.” She said it with a light laugh, but we were both aware of the responsibilities hanging over us.

I was to lead the Illska Sandr—the portion of Sandire’s army that had been bestowed to me at fourteen years of age. To lead the army in defense of our lands, to help in our strength and protection under Thor.

And Annora—she was to inherit rule over our desert land and see to it we kept the gods happy with our sacrifices. Her duty was to carry out our traditions and ensure shapeshifters eventually fell extinct.

“Let’s go find Keyon before you buy another weapon,” I said, ruffling her hair before rushing off into the crowd, not giving her a chance to draw the weapon she’d bought.

I walked quickly, but it was only a moment before Annora lingered close.

We surveyed each person we passed, searching for our mother and brother while also making sure no potential outbursts were about to erupt. Anyone could quickly lose their temper in such a crowd, so we watched for signs of tension.

During a market, nothing was off the table. Especially in the Viking capital of Sandire. One could find anything and everything at a market in Sandire Thorpe.

Annora poked me in my ribs. When I turned to glower at her, she nodded off to the side. I followed her gaze and spotted Keyon standing beside our mother, arms crossed over his chest as he watched the drifting crowd at her back.

“Thought we’d never find you,” Annora said when we reached them. “You know, it isn’t very nice to abandon your sister.”

Keyon rolled his eyes. “I made sure Riker was willing to be your caretaker before I left.”

“I’m older than the both of you. I’m the last person in need of caretaking.”

“If one of us didn’t look out for you, you would spend all your coin right here, right now, on gods knows what.”

Annora cocked an eyebrow, opening her mouth to bark her comeback, but Mother turned to us with pursed lips. “Can’t the three of you go anywhere together without bickering?”

“We’re not bickering, Mother,” Annora said, her tone softening, eyes wide and innocent.

Mother shook her head, looking to each of us. “No one would guess that my children were seven-and-twenty and thirty years of age.”

Keyon smiled, shooting a narrowed look at Annora. She blatantly ignored him but couldn’t seem to refrain from hissing something under her breath. Keyon glanced at me, still smiling with the shake of his head. My returning grin matched his exactly.

Every inch of us matched the other. From our long blond hair and its dark roots to our broad builds and matching gold eyes, Keyon was my identical twin, my right hand since birth. Our skin even possessed the same deep tan from living under the intense sun.

The only difference between us—the tattoo imprinted on his upper arm directly below his shoulder. Angry and sharp dark-green lines bordered in black swirled in a circle before slashing down the side of his arm at different angles. I was empty of body art, proudly bearing the scars I received in battle. Still mulling over the ones I had received from our father growing up.

The golden eyes Keyon and I shared were unusual features in our family. Annora bore blue eyes that matched our mother’s. Our father’s eyes were a dull, faded brown that flared with cruelty when challenged.

However, aside from the dark roots Keyon and I shared, we all had our mother’s blonde hair. Mother liked to say that while Annora was all her, her sons got a mixture of her and her beloved husband.

As our father’s children, however, we carried his warrior blood. Ferocious, unrelenting fighters—we all possessed some severity of fire in our blood. Keyon less than our father liked …

“Now that Annora has found herself a pretty sword,” Mother said, “what would you boys like to venture a look at?”

“My family is hungry!” someone boomed over the hustle of the crowd.

My hand was already wrapped around the hilt of my ax, and Annora had a grip on her new sword. Keyon’s sharp eyes were searching the crowd for those shouting.

Others noticed the voice yelling over the commotion and stumbled out of the way.

“Do you want us to starve? You have plenty here and you won’t sell it all before the end of market.”

There was no doubt a fight was about to be unleashed. The air was thick. Hands were twitching toward weapons, even from those wandering the market.

The crowd drifted back at once, some turning and going the other way, dragging children with them, while others paused, watching, trying to determine their next move. Then I got a good look at what was steadily unfolding.

The Viking demanding food was in a merchant’s face, the tips of their boots nearly touching. The merchant wasn’t backing down, though. He didn’t try to move away from the shouting man.

“Without coin or something you’re willing to trade, I can’t give any of it to you. We’ve had a poor harvest,” the merchant argued. “My own family—”

The man wrenched up a curved, double-bladed ax. “Give some to me before I cut off your damned leg, fool!”

Keyon caught my arm before I could start forward. He merely shook his head when I glared at him. Wrenching my arm from his grasp, I strode across the thinning crowd before my family could say anything against it.

This was part of what I was meant to do. Illska Sandr existed to protect our people and, perhaps most importantly, to capture shapeshifters for our sacrifices.

Our sacrifices protected us above all else. Without them, we all suffered, went hungry, perished under the boiling sun.

I planted myself between the men within four strides, demanding both met my harsh stare. I let them heed the danger in my face—and drink in the silent tongue-lashing. The merchant took a step back, but the other held his stance for a few moments too long for my liking. My nostrils flared, then he finally retreated a step.

“You are not to touch this man,” I cautioned. “You have no coin—nothing to give him. He cannot give anything away without risking the hunger of his own family. If you hurt him, I will personally chop off your leg in return. Go home, your weakness insults me.”

If the man had relented in giving him something, it would not be my business to argue, but I was no one to demand the man risk his family by sharing what was rightfully his.

Annora came to stand at my shoulder, her perusal jumping between the two men. She was always ready for anything; always itching to defend. She was a natural fighter—who only walked away once she was declared the winner.

“Threatening to amputate a man’s leg is pretty serious,” she said. “Especially if you have no true intention of hacking it off. If you want to take so badly, show your family honor by demanding a hólmgang, or back away.”

“It’s not stealing. I’m asking him to help save my family—”

“Saving your family from starvation is on you,” I interrupted, following her lead. “Don’t ask another to jeopardize the well-being of his own family. Go out and hunt for what you need. I don’t want to see you demanding from someone else again.”

It was another moment before the Viking shot a glare toward the merchant, turned away, and eventually disappeared into the crowd.

We watched him walk away as the merchant thanked us over and over. “Thank you! Thank you!”

When Annora turned back, she said, “I doubt he’ll try to bother anyone else.”

Her eyes fell to the ax at my side, and I let my hand fall from its hilt, not planning on stalking after the man. The market had been disturbed enough.

Hólmgang was often the only way to prevent bloodshed among ourselves.

“Thank you, Princess,” the merchant said one last time before we walked away. Sweat rolled from his hairline. He almost seemed scared to address Annora but still inclined his head toward her. She turned away, seemingly disappointed she hadn’t gotten the chance to use her new sword.

She met my stare with a narrow-eyed grimace, sticking her tongue out at me as she had done since we were little. I swallowed the laughter that swelled in my chest, feeling Keyon’s heavy stare at my back.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: This has gone through multiple rounds of professional editing by my editor.