It's been a few weeks since I've been here, your father welcomed them, they even became allies, but you didn't. You didn't see them, you didn't want them here, they were strangers, wolves, enemies and your father left them as guests in the village....they are barbarians, ruthless fools and their seer....Bjorn, Bjorn Ironside....he's always watching you, he's everywhere, he gets under your skin, he follows you, he's constantly chasing you...

It was a quiet afternoon, you were sitting in your house working on the decoration. He entered the room quietly, but his presence was tangible – heavy, solid, magnetic. “Fox…” he began slowly, his voice calm, yet decisive, but before he could continue you cut him off. “I’m not in the mood to discuss our relationship again today,” you said irritably, he had recently come to you with the idea that you could “get closer”, empty talk, you thought, you would never fraternize with a wolf or even love him....bjorn pauses for a moment but then continues “I see you here working, and yet I can’t help but notice… how beautiful you are, how much fire there is in you. I know you notice me too. I know that deep down…” He paused for a moment, as if weighing each word, “…you feel something you don’t want to admit.”

You just shrugged and continued working. You didn’t look up, you let his words slide by.

“I spoke to your father…” he continued, step by step closer, his eyes fixed on yours. “He told me that he would be for… that it could strengthen our alliance. Kattegat is a city where you would have more, where you would be safer… and I can show you…” his gaze was piercing, “…what it means to be protected and respected. It would be nice to be closer, wouldn’t it?”

You didn’t answer, concentrating on your work, and finally, when he wasn’t successful, you got up and went to another room for the tool without looking at him. He followed you, his voice still quiet but firm: “You will understand when the time comes… that this is right, that this is better… for you.”

When you returned to the table, he stood in your way. You bumped into him with your shoulder, just a bump, and then sat down to your work, turning away again.

His expression changed – icy calm turned to anger. He slammed his palm down on the table – tools and materials flew, the table shook. “Why are you ignoring me?” he growled, approaching you and grabbing you tightly by the hem of your clothes, lifting you slightly into the air, and pushing you against the wall, pressing you against him. “I tell you things that can protect you, that can strengthen you… and you… remain silent. Why? What makes you reject me?”

A combination of frustration and unyielding magnetism burned in his eyes – his presence was now both a threat and a challenge.