Myriana brushed the pads of her fingertips over the pendant attached to the necklace around her neck. She shut her eyes, feeling the close connection with the man who had given it to her. She had memorized long ago every detail of the large pendant shaped like Thor’s hammer with runes inscribed on it. A small ruby had been carefully added to one corner, and one word engraved, a name. Lachlan.
She still recalled her first encounter with this unique stranger, the memory strong, as if it had only happened yesterday. The man had stolen her heart with little more than a simple glance. She swore to find him no matter how impossible the feat might be. Deep down inside she was convinced that one day their lives would once again collide. She hoped and prayed that day had finally arrived.
Myriana stood on the boat’s dock, patiently waiting for her captain to arrive. Her lips curved into a smile as she vividly relived in her mind the first day she had met Lachlan. A day she would never forget…

~ ~ ~

Seventeen-year-old Myriana stood on the deck of the thirty foot sailing vessel. Both her father and her grandfather were still sleeping. She loved the sunrise, and she woke up extra early to ensure not missing it.
As the sun’s first rays caressed the sea with its seductive touch, Myriana gasped, closing her eyes for a moment to blink the odd vision away. When that didn’t work, she rubbed her eyes, fearing what lay ahead was only her mind playing tricks on her.
A large wavy circle opened before her, the outside edges flickering like a candle in the wind. Through the center of the circle she caught a glimpse of a strange vessel, one that appeared to be from another time. There were men aboard the ship, speaking in a language unknown to her. They were also dressed differently, well armed and strong. But there was one man who made her heart beat like an out of control jet ski racing over the waves.
He was young, maybe her age, in his late teens. His hair was an amazing flame-red. There were two thin braids with gold beads falling on each side of his face. His skin was evenly tanned a deep bronze from the sun, and when his blue eyes met hers, it left her feeling breathless. He ushered the men to draw their ship closer to the vortex, but then the portal showed signs of closing, the flickering light around the edges beginning to darken.
Just before the vortex closed, she saw the young man’s desperation to reach her side. He yanked a chain off his neck and tossed it, yelling, “Ykkarr minn dróttning! Minn kona!”

Myriana caught the necklace as it passed through, just before the portal shimmered one last time and vanished. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she inspected the pendant connected to the necklace. She couldn’t believe what just happened. If not for the pendant resting in her hand she would have thought it all nothing more than a vivid hallucination.
“Myriana,” her father called, “you up there?”
“Yeah, dad,” she answered, trying with all her might to sound normal. “I’m here, just watching the sun come up.”
He walked up beside her and looked all around, but now there was only an endless ocean of water to see. Not a vessel of any kind anywhere around.
“I thought I heard voices up here. That’s strange. You sure you didn’t see anyone? Sounded like a bunch of people talking to me.”
“No, Dad. Just me . . . well, and a few seagulls buzzing around.” He’d never believe her anyway, so she kept the portal and the ship on the other side a secret.
Myriana had no choice then but to turn and walk away. She couldn’t force everyone to drop anchor while she waited, dreaming about a man she didn’t even know. But she also knew she was determined one day to come back out here. She was determined to find him.

~ ~ ~

“You’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?”
The sarcastic words cut in and broke into her pleasant daydream, abrupt, like an ice-cold bucket of water being dumped on her head. She turned to find the captain glaring at her.
Myriana smirked. “It’s nice to see you too, Vittorino.” She squealed and hugged him. “Thank you for this. I’ll owe you big time now.”
Vittorino grunted, grumbling a few words in Italian. He pulled away and she walked aboard the sailing ship. He rolled his eyes when he saw her jumping up and down like a giddy school girl.
“Oh, Vitto, don’t be a party pooper. Come on, if everything works as planned, we’ll make an important discovery. One that will give you everything you ever wanted.”
Vittorino kept his gaze fixed on her, his green eyes held hope and longing, as well as despair. “I hope you’re right, Myriana. I really hope you are. I need something like this.”
Vittorino was Myriana’s best friend. They had known one another since they were young children, and he was also the only one she trusted enough to tell about Lachlan. As they headed for the ship’s rudder, she watched his broad back. Her friend. One who didn’t look at her like she was just as crazy as her mother. Her mom had been sent to an asylum when she was fifteen, and that’s why she’d never told her father or grandfather about what she had seen. She was afraid to.
Vittorino was different. He believed anything she told him. He respected her and cared for her, even more than her own family at times. He was always there when she needed him, someone to laugh with, a shoulder to cry on. Vittorino was handsome, though perhaps a bit rough around the edges. But it didn’t matter, because he had never been more to her than just a good friend. Their relationship had always been a platonic one, not friends with benefits like a lot of other people she knew. She was happy to have him in her life, for a friendship like theirs was hard to come by. Most people pretended to be your friend, but when push came to shove, and to cover their own butts, they’d turn and walk away.
Now she and Vittorino were off together on this wonderful quest, the adventure of a lifetime. One she knew they would never forget.


Three nights out on the open sea found Myriana eating a plate of fish and pasta prepared as only Vittorino could. Scrapping the last of her meal from the plate, she held the glass of Savingnon Blanc, sipping slowly while Vittirino busied himself clearing the table. When he finished the exotic meal with Lemon Bisque, she looked for more wine to fill her glass. Vittirono lifted the bottle to her glass and poured out the few drops remaining.
“You look beautiful tonight, Myriana.”
She gaped at Vittorino as though he were a total stranger. He stood, fidgeting while waiting for her response. Myriana couldn't help but bite her lower lip as she looked up at the tall, well built man beside her, his long bangs of black hair brushed against his forehead. Before she could think of a suitable reply he dropped down and caged her between the booth and himself.
“What’s wrong with you, Vitto? Are you drunk?” There was a little bit of fear mixed in with her curiosity. She placed a hand against his chest and pushed, but he wouldn’t budge.
Vittorino moved her hand over his heart, saying, “Drunk with love is more like it.”
Myriana was confused. She didn’t know what to make out of this. Vittorino had never shown her this side of him. He was her best friend, the man she could count on as her right hand. He made her laugh and she could trust him with her deepest and darkest secret. She had never thought of him as anything more than this.
“Don’t do this to me, Vittorino. You know why we made this trip. To find my Lachlan.”
Vittorino slammed his fist on the table before pulling back. “There is no Lachlan! Why can’t you accept the fact? You’re throwing you life away on a man who doesn’t exist. Myriana, you’re twenty-seven years old. It’s time to grow up!”
Myriana stood, fury coursing through her body. “What’s wrong with you? You said you believed me, Vitto. If you never believed me, why did you agree to come with me in the first place? Why are we even here?”
“Because, dammit, I love you! Because I hoped in some insane way you would forget about your stupid Lachlan, and maybe, just maybe, you’d find it in your heart to love me. I don’t care about your mother being sick. It doesn’t matter to me. Why do you think I’m thirty and still single? Even if the only way to have you leads me to playing dress-up for this Lachlan, so be it. I’ll do it. I’d do anything for you.”
Myriana's chest was heaving. Her eyes became misty as she fought to control her mixed emotions. She stepped back as Vittorino took a few steps closer. “Stay away, Vitto. I need some space. This is all too much for me right now. I don’t know what to think.”
Vittorino stepped back and nodded. “We only have two more days for your search, and then we have to go back. Good night, Myriana. Think about what I said.”
With that, he went to his cabin, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
Myriana sat on the boat’s deck, alternating between crying and meditating, trying to figure out what to do. She was hurting and confused. She hated the fact that Vittorino had played her for a fool, pretended to believe her secret when he didn’t. But still, his confession of love had caught her completely off guard.
She opened her red backpack, pulling out the information she had learned from her history teacher that very same week she had first seen Lachlan. She had wanted to know what language he’d spoken, what he might have said when he had thrown the pendant. She learned it was the Old Norse language, and roughly translated meant, ‘You are my queen. My woman.’
“And you are my prince,” she whispered, her fingers lightly tracing along the edges of the pendant.
A carbon dating test done on the pendant dated it back to 900 AD. With a little work she rummaged through ancient history books, finding more information on Lachlan. He was a prince who lost his chance to become king because he refused to wed. He believed one day to meet up with the woman who had stolen his heart; only she carried his pendant. So he went off in search of her, sailing the ocean in hopes of one day finding her. He was never seen or heard from of again.
Myriana gasped as she slipped her journal and book back inside the backpack. Her legs trembled as she stood. The portal! It was back! Her heart raced as she watched the strange phenomenon taking place before the ship’s bow. The wavy portal opening mere inches away, causing the ship to wildly rock on the water.
“Myriana, what the heck is going on?”
Vittorino fell silent as he stepped out. His gaze flickered to the lowered sails. She knew with the sails down, they were sitting ducks. There was no choice but to wait it out and see what would happen. But the portal was dragging them in and Myriana wasn’t afraid. She accepted the fact, had prayed for it more times than she could count.
Come for me, my prince. I’ve been waiting for you.

Only seconds passed and the vortex swallowed their ship, spitting them back out on the other side. It was daytime now, the sun high in the sky. But something felt off with their surroundings. It was wrong here.
“I promise you this, Myriana, when we get home I’m going to break your momma out of the loony bin,” Vittorino muttered as he looked around in disbelief.
Her mother had always claimed to belong to the past. That one day as a toddler she was swept into a wavy cloud, bringing her to the future. When Myriana turned fifteen, her mother’s condition worsened. She became hysterical, determined to keep Myriana away from the sea. So her father locked her away, and Myriana seldom ever saw her, only a few visits per year were allowed.
A large ship was closing in fast. Vittorino left her side as she gaped at the Viking ship approaching. It had the head of a dragon at both the bow and stern of the vessel. Its hull was so large that Myriana was certain close to one hundred men were probably aboard. She even got a whiff of the oak they’d used to build it.
She saw Vittorino retrieving a gun. “Put it away, Vitto. You may shoot and kill a few, but we’ll never survive against so many warriors.”
Vittorino grumbled as he hid the gun, returning to her side empty handed. “So what do you suggest we do, Myriana? Lie down and play dead?”
“I’ll do the talking, Vitto. Stand there and behave. Do you think you can manage that?”
He grunted.
Myriana swallowed the lump in her throat at the sight of all those Viking warriors staring her way. They held their shields high, along with a sword or axe, and a knife was attached to a belt at their side. Each carried dark green or blue-black tattoos from fingers to neck. They wore helmets and chainmail over a long woolen shirt and long cloth trousers. But the facial expressions reminded her of rabid dogs set out to tear something apart. Like her and Vittorino
Dear God, what had she done?

“Kveðjas, ríkr drengrs.” ‘Greetings, great warriors,’

is what Myriana said, hoping to make peace.
The men reacted as she'd hoped. They lifted their chins with pride, standing tall, and welcoming her compliments and recognition that as warriors they were the best. She was glad to have learned the Old Norse language, even though she was quite sure she didn’t sound like a native.
A few men stepped away to let their leader pass. Her heart fluttered, the pace quickening when she caught sight of the man.
“Lachlan!”
The man’s eyes scrutinized her for a few seconds. He smiled when his gaze fell on the pendant Myriana wore. He had aged about ten years since their last encounter.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Myriana!” Vittorino gritted between clenched teeth. “Now that I see your Lachlan, all I want to do is break his neck.”
Myriana looked over her shoulder to see a stricken Vittorino. “Please, Vitto. I’m sorry you’re hurting, but if you make one false move they will kill you. And I don’t want them to. Please, promise me you’ll behave so you can stay alive. I need you.”
Vittorino shut his eyes and exhaled sharply. He reopened them and said, “Fine, for you I would do anything you ask, even if it kills me. Non posso vivere senza di te

.”
At his last words in Italian, she gave him half a smile. ‘I can’t live without you.’
Lachlan boarded the ship and she ran into his welcoming arms. He crushed his lips on hers and she regretted it almost the moment she’d stepped up close to him. He smelled of sweat and someone who hadn’t bathed in weeks, not to mention the fact that his mouth reeked of fish and mead.
A smirk appeared on Vittorino’s mouth as he watched her tense up beside Lachlan. “What’s wrong, amore mio

, you don’t like your man with an edge to his natural scent?”
Lachlan became rigid at the sound of Vittorino’s voice. Myriana assumed Lachlan thought he was insulting him, which in a way, he was. Myriana’s heart stilled at Lachlan’s command to kill Vittorino. She pleaded with Lachlan in his own tongue to spare his life, telling him Vittorino was her guardian and if it wasn’t for him, she would not be by his side.
He snorted, and ordered his men to seize Vittorino. Lachlan told her they didn’t trust him and he would be kept a prisoner until he could gain their trust and respect. From Lachlan’s tone, Myriana worried for Vittorino’s fate.
For weeks they sailed on the Viking ship. They celebrated both the victories of their last raiding and the fact that Myriana had chosen to marry Lachlan. She wasn't pleased with the Viking's way of life, but she couldn’t back away now; it was her fault she and Vittorino were even in this mess.
Vittorino seemed to fit among them well. He won their respect when many tried to shame him with a beating, instead, giving out beatings of his own. Trained as a Navy Seal, when it came to hand to hand combat, weapon tactics and martial arts, he was at the top of his class. Sadly, since the moment Myriana said 'I do' to Lachlan’s wedding proposal, he avoided her like the plague.


One year later…

Myriana was miserable. Marriage to a Viking wasn’t all she’d hoped for. The ‘morning-gift’ after their wedding consisted of the keys to Lachlan’s home, which she kept around her waist, a few chests of gold and jewelry, and a few acres of land. These were hers to keep and would be passed to her offspring.
The fact that she wasn’t conceiving was the main problem for her miserable state. Lachlan treated her cold, even sleeping around with his handful of concubines. Just to punish her, he would order her to cook his food. He knew she was a lousy cook, but he did it anyway just to humiliate her.
But there came a time when it was her turn to cook and she walked in to find all the food Lachlan liked already prepared, hot and ready for him. From that day forward whenever it was her turn the food was prepared by someone else. She cried when she found out it was Vittorino. Once he found out she had discovered him, Vittorino would prepare the meals and leave notes of encouragement with each feast.
Vittorino had remained single, becoming one of Lachlan’s best warriors, fighting side by side with the Viking prince. With each passing day, week, and month, her heart broke into a little more pieces, for she knew now that she had made a poor choice, the wrong choice. She regretted marrying Lachlan, a man little more than a barbarian, while Vittorino, the friend who knew everything about her heart, body and soul, the one she really needed and loved, was ever just beyond her reach. But Myriana was also aware that she had condemned them both to this fate and it was too late now to have a change of heart.
After catching her husband with another one of her maids, she finally snuck into Vittorino’s room. He scolded her, at the same time holding her tight in his arms. He whispered Italian love phrases as he brushed the soft strands of her black hair. Shortly after, the door burst open, allowing Lachlan to see Myriana in Vittorino’s embrace.
Because nothing happened between Vittorino and her, Lachlan promised to handle the punishment for her himself. But when it came to Vittorino, Lachlan said they would have a duel to the death. Lachlan dragged Myriana outside so she can bear witness to her lover’s fate. He despised the fact that Vittorino now had Myriana’s heart and Lachlan was determined to make an example out of him.
Vittorino fought hard and well against Lachlan, but soon Lachlan’s men interfered, shooting arrows at Vittorino’s arms and legs, pinning him to the ground. Myriana wailed, pleading with Lachlan to spare his life, but her pleas fell on deaf ears. Lachlan’s men held her as she was forced to watch the last fatal blow, Lachlan’s sword thrusting hard into the center of Vittorino’s chest.
Myriana screamed, full of remorse and agonizing grief. Everything had gone so wrong. She didn’t want this life anymore. She closed her eyes and prayed that Lachlan would kill her to for what she had done with Vittorino. Falling to her knees, Myriana tried to accept that she would live the remainder of her life with a man she couldn’t stand, a barbarian who had just thrust a sword into her best friend’s heart.
The strong hands holding her arms released their grip and let her go. She looked up with tears in her eyes to see what they would do with Vittorino’s body.
The lemon bisque was on the table, and Vittorino stood before her with both a flushed and shocked expression.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, not wanting to close her eyes in case everything decided to disappear again. Myriana wasn’t sure what to say or do. She believed she might be losing her mind for real this time.
“Are we back?” muttered Vittorino.
Myriana ran into his arms, sobbing. “You were really there with me! I wasn’t dreaming!” She rained kisses on his face as she held him tight. They both were trembling from the horrible experience.
Shaking, she let Vittorino lead her to a chair and after helping her down, he sat down beside her. After they relaxed, sitting side by side on the boat’s deck, Vittorino leaned over and softly kissed her.
“You were right, Myriana?”
“About what?”
“That I was going to make a great discovery.”
“Oh, well, too bad we didn’t bring back evidence―”
“No, Myriana. I’m not talking about that. What I meant was that I've discovered you could come to love me after all. And I wouldn’t have missed that chance for the world. Because you are all that I ever wanted. Il mio cuore è per voi

.”
She smiled at him, her heart swelling with joy from the beautiful words. ‘My heart is for you’. Even after all she’d put him through, he still loved her.
“Ti amo

, Vittorino. I’m sorry it took a time traveling trip for me to figure this out.”
“Nah, there’s no regrets here. Oh, one more thing before I forget.” He took a small box out of his pants pocket and knelt. He opened it, revealing a beautiful engagement ring. “Would you do me the honor of being my wife, Myriana?”
She croaked out a “yes” between sobs. After surviving marriage to a brute Viking, she’d have to be crazy to say no to the other half of her soul.

THE END

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Texte: Cover Art by A.T. LASTER This is a work of fiction. All rights reserved. No portion of this book can be reproduced in any form without the prior written approval or consent of the author.
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 09.11.2009

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To all my hopeless romantics, stop dreaming about love, you never know how close true love can be. There are times when it's right under your nose. My many thanks and profound gratitude goes to Denna Holm, my grand editor. You’re my right hand, giving my work the perfect touch. Together we’re a team, a perfect one. I can never thank God enough for bringing you into my life. With you by my side we can achieve our writing endeavors. I’m your number one fan always and friend, never forget it.