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Ancient Love

Genre: Fantasy, Supernatural, Romance

Time travel, Viking

Faye Winters, a young woman living with her siblings, graced with visions of the past. Memories from another time haunt her dreams, marking her body once she awakens. The injuries sustained in battle linger for hours, painting her skin for hours, until they fade. Each memory leaves her with a sense of sorrow, a lingering pain that never fades, always sitting in the back of her mind.

Aric Hansen was granted passage to Valhalla, after his honorable death in battle. Odin, called to him, beckoning him to be a soldier in his army to protect the temple. As the centuries passed, the loneliness within Aric grew stronger, calling to Freyja. She answered his beasts cries and shrieks pain; granting him immortality, to be a fallen protector. To finally find his mate, the one who had escaped him in his first life.

Excerpt:

Standing on the hill top, looking out over the battlefield I look through the eyes of a man. Watching the grueling battle, the men that are fighting, for their lives, and for their cause. Their armor glistens in the sweltering sun, blood being smeared amongst one another. The cries of men fill the air as their last calls are made, before they perish. His auburn hair waves past his shoulder, the curly mass having been left unrestrained for the fight. A battle cry leaves his lips as he throws his head back.

Mounting his stead with ease he races down the hill top ready to fight off the enemy. Something the man has a lot of experience with, if these memories are anything to go by. My heart pounds as I whimper in fear, having experienced this memory more than once. I feel helpless watching the man go through the motions of battle, fighting valiantly. He is a battle hardened warrior, unlike myself, a woman who can barely stand the sight of a needle. Watching the blades of swords and axes glinting with the light of the sun, and dripping with blood. Feeling a dagger forced into the man's shoulder, only to be stopped by the sturdy bone.

He roars out his pain, quickly spinning and taking down the man who attempted to take his life. I whimper feeling the sharp pain of the dagger, falling from the muscle. I know tomorrow I'll be rewarded with a harsh bruise and a slight red mark. It always happens this way, the memories come, and I'm left with the battle wounds, the bruises, and angry scars of the healing flesh. They always fade with time, but the memory and searing pain always return. My body shudders as metal on metal clashes, swords hitting shields, the ringing metal hurting my ears.

Tears flow from my eyes, witnessing the death on the field, my heart aches for the man. The hardship of battle and loneliness that he always feels, leaves my heart reaching out for his, attempting to comfort the angered warrior. The battle continues on, never seeming to come to an end, I have never seen the end of this battle. My stomach churns as I anticipate the next blow, to him. An axe slams into his stomach, denting his armor and knocking the wind from his lungs. An angered roar falls from his lips as angered bloodlust swells within.

Watching as the man is decapitated, his head rolling under the feet of his comrades, his body lurching to the ground without life. My lip trembles, waiting for the searing pain. No matter how many times I've been watching and going through the motions of this memory, I always try and warn the man. Worn him of the sharp blades that always tear into his body, causing him pain. Crying for the pain that he has felt, a blade slices into his biceps, leaving tissue, and muscle exposed. My stomach churns for the last time as the pain forces my dinner, from my body.