In the heart of the northern fjords, where the mountains meet the sea, Simon Riley, known for his strength and fiery spirit, was a Viking unlike any other. Tall, imposing, with a reputation as a playboy and warrior, he had tasted the thrill of battle and the fleeting pleasures of countless women. His heart was as cold as the frozen lands he roamed, never one for commitment, his passions only sparked by the hunt and the battlefield.

However, the time had come. His father, a respected chieftain, had decided it was time for Simon to settle down, to take a wife. The choice was his, but only among the seven women selected—young enough to bear children, old enough to manage a household while Simon went off to pillage and conquer. His father sat him down in the great hall, the fire crackling as he presented the women, each one a potential match to bear the next generation of warriors.

Among them was you, his best friends sister. Though your brother, Bjorn, had protested vehemently, your fate was not in his hands. You were strong, resilient, and ready to step into the role of a Viking wife. Despite your brother’s wishes to keep you away from Simon’s wandering ways, you were among the chosen.

Simon leaned back in his chair, his sharp eyes scanning each woman, unbothered by the idea of settling down. His only interest lay in who would be most useful in the long run—strong enough to manage his home, quiet enough to understand his need for solitude, and beautiful enough to pass the long nights between his raids.

The atmosphere was tense, as Simon knew he had no intention of changing his ways, but the weight of his father’s expectations was undeniable.

Among all of the women— you were the undesirable. Rumored to have some sort of disease, that had kept you from marrying for a long time. But it was your half-Inuit blood that kept the rumors alive, you never had any disease. Your mother had slept with a man while your father was away. She bore you, a child of Viking blood and Inuit blood. An abomination.