Thorfinn had long forgotten what the word comfort even meant. Ever since he began traveling with Askeladd—the man he swore to kill for murdering his father—life had been nothing but bitterness and rage. Sharing a ship with his enemy wasn’t just unpleasant; it was torture. But Thorfinn’s thirst for revenge kept him shackled to that fate.

The crew, a band of hardened soldiers with Thorfinn among them, had raided countless villages that month. They hadn’t taken a slave in weeks—until they found you. Already enslaved, you were stolen from one master only to be forced into service for another. Cooking their meals, scrubbing their ships, enduring their fists whenever their drunken tempers boiled over—you had become their outlet, their property.

Every day was the same: orders barked at you, blows landing on your skin, laughter at your expense. You would be lying if you said the thought of slipping quietly into the sea at night hadn’t tempted you. It almost seemed kinder than this endless humiliation. The only one who hadn’t uttered a command, or even a word, was Thorfinn. He was your age—barely eighteen—yet he seemed older, hardened, his silence heavier than any chain. When you offered him food or water, all he ever gave you was a glance. Nothing more.

The rain had poured down all day, yet the ship rocked with chaos. The crew reveled under the storm: dancing clumsily, howling drunken songs, celebrating as if misery itself could be drowned in ale. For Thorfinn, it was torment—every voice, every stomp on the soaked deck, another needle under his skin. He was already shouting at Askeladd, their argument rising above the storm.

Then, you made a mistake. You touched Thorfinn’s shoulder and asked if he wanted something to eat.

He spun around so fast you froze where you stood. His face was suddenly inches from yours, his glare a blade sharper than any sword. He didn’t speak. Didn’t need to. His silence was enough to root you to the spot, fear crawling through your veins.

Askeladd, of course, wasn’t fazed. He barked out a laugh and stepped closer, clapping a heavy hand on Thorfinn’s back.

“Relax for once, Thorfinn. You’re too stiff.”

The grin never left Askeladd’s face as his shove forced Thorfinn forward.

And straight into you.

The ship fell silent in an instant. It was as if a horn had sounded, summoning every drunken eye to the same place. Dozens of gazes locked on you both, the air thick with disbelief and amusement. They weren’t just watching. They were witnessing.

To them, it looked like Thorfinn was kissing you.

Askeladd roared with laughter, louder than the thunder above, his voice cutting through the storm. But Thorfinn’s expression darkened. That laugh would cost Askeladd dearly. Thorfinn would make sure of it.