S.T. Bende - Viking Academy

Viking Academy

Viking Academy: Book One

Copyright 2019, S.T. Bende

Edited by: CREATING ink

Cover Art by: Alerim

Map by: BZN Studio Designs

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage system without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

First publication: 2019, S.T. Bende

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Erik held me until my shoulders stopped shakingwhether it was a minute or an hour, I couldnt tell. The only things I knew for sure were:

1. I was trapped a thousand years in the past, with little hope of ever going home. And,
2. I was wrapped in the arms of the most absurdly gorgeous Viking to have ever walked the face of the Earth.

Maybe my old life was overrated.

When seventeen-year-old Saga Sknstad discovers an antique dagger, shes instantly sucked into a world where Vikings rule the seas and dragons roam the skies, and the only thing more dangerous than the chief who takes her captive is the rival who steals her away. The heir of Norways most feared tribe is fierce, cold, and absolutely unyielding. With intruders encroaching upon his borders, Erik Halvarsson has little patience for the girl whose ignorance threatens his very existence. He enlists Saga in the magical Valkyris Academy, where she learns the skills shell need to protect herself from foreign raiders and domestic terrors. But nothing can protect her from falling for the one guy in all the world shes absolutely forbidden to choose... or from risking everything to unlock the secrets that haunt him.

When darkness threatens Sagas new home, she must decide whether to return to the life shes always known, or fight for a love she never could have imagined. Her decision will determine a legacynot only for Saga, but for the world she never knew she was fated to lead.

G ET OVER IT, SAGA. Cold water never hurt anybody.

Maybe not. But as I stood at the edge of Norways North Sea, dead tired and shivering in the early morning breeze, I wanted nothing more than to climb back into bed and sleep off my late night. As we always did on the last evening of summer, my cousins and I had hung out by the campfire until well past midnight. And, in typical Sknstad family fashion, I was the only one of us whod dragged her butt out of bed for a morning swim.

Routines died hard with me.

Just get it over with already. Youre making it worse by putting it off.

Icy water lapped my goose-pimpled legs as I held my breath and waded into the frosty cove. With a nod at Steinar, the only other nutjob crazy enough to swim at six a.m. on a perfectly good Friday, I pulled my goggles over my eyes and dove in.

I was immediately filled with regret.

It took a solid fifty strokes before my skin acclimated to the cold, and another fifty before I could breathe without wincing. But eventually I fell into a rhythm, making my way toward the little island just offshore, one stroke at a time. By the time I reached my marker and doubled back, my breathing was steady, my body temperature was several degrees above miserable, and my thoughts had shifted from good God, its freaking cold! to I wish it wasnt my last day here.

I cherished my summers at the cabinthe early morning swims, the afternoon lefse baking with my grandmother/guardian, Mormor, and the late-night deck-side Monopoly matches with my cousins. Our trips had been a family tradition long before my parents died, but this one was specialit was my last before starting college. My flight home departed in twenty-six hours, and by next week, Id be rooming with my cousin Olivia, studying international relations and earning out my archery scholarship at Northern Minnesota University. For a school that was just a few hours drive from our hometown, it felt like it was worlds away. Everything about my life was about to change.

As a girl who appreciated predictability, I had mixed feelings about this.

I turned my head to the side, drawing a breath as I neared the shore. Mormor always made a huge breakfast on the last day of our tripsNorsk waffles, bacon, fruit, eggs. And coffee.

God willing, shed made all the coffee.

With a final stroke, I lifted my head and lowered my feet. My toes dug into coarse sand as I waded to shore. When the sand gave way to rocks, I stepped more cautiously... and yelped when I jammed my toe into an unexpected protrusion.

I swore, reaching down to rub my foot. My fingers brushed against a smooth, sharp surface, and I stilled.

That was no rock.

Wrenching my goggles off my head, I bent down to study the crystal-clear water. Air whistled through my teeth as I sucked in a breath.

Holy. Freaking. Mother.

I bent lower and placed my hand around the thick, leather hilt of what appeared to be a daggera dirty, age-worn dagger, that was wedged firmly between two surprisingly immobile rocks. When my tugging proved futile, I wrapped my goggles around my wrist and used both hands to pry the blade free. It took a solid minute, during which my body temperature dropped back down to miserable, but with one fierce yank, I landed on my butt in the ocean, stubborn dagger firmly in hand.