Odin's Shadow (Sons Of Odin Book 1) (9th Century Viking Romance) Read Online Free

late.
    None of the perspective suitors appeared to mind that Selia was not Niall Ó Murchú’s daughter by birth. As a trader of fine fabrics, Niall was in the merchant class, and most of the suitors thus far were also men of comfortable means. But it was no secret that Selia and Ainnileas were not his natural children. There had been whispers early on, rumors they were actually changelings; fairy children. One would think any prospective husband might have some concern over this, but apparently youth and beauty won out over better judgment.
    What would it be like to be married to the Finngall? Or not him, specifically, since it was nonsense to consider marrying a foreigner, and a heathen at that. But no, someone like him. Tall, handsome, and in the prime of his life, with eyes the color of a cloudless sky.
    Someone whose hands didn't shake with palsy when he touched her. Someone her brother couldn't laugh at.
    Selia's reverie was interrupted as her brother and father entered, shaking the dust from their cloaks. Ainnileas laughed to see her cooking. He gave the air a cautious sniff as though expecting the worst.
    Selia pushed him out of the kitchen before he noticed Eithne asleep on the floor. As the men settled around the table, she brought them mugs of warmed ale and plates of sausages, crusty bread and goat cheese. They both startled as a loud, guttural snore emanated from the kitchen.
    Niall raised an eyebrow.
    "She's ill," Selia said. She felt a bit responsible for Eithne's present condition, and tried to distract her father with a larger helping of sausage.
    Ainnileas took a bite, grimacing as he chewed. "The sausage tastes of dirt."
    Selia glared at him. Was he simply mocking her culinary skills or did he really know something about the encounter with the Finngall? His clear gray eyes were all innocence as he smiled at her.
    Ainnileas was much too handsome for his own good. His black hair curled around his face in a rather girlish fashion, despite his attempt to keep it secured at the nape of his neck. His eyes—which, when the light caught them appeared to be silver rather than gray—glittered behind their dark frame of lashes. His top lip was slightly fuller than the bottom and his mouth arched up at the corners, which caused him to perpetually look as though he was about to burst out laughing. And he was, usually at Selia’s expense.
    He and Selia had always been small and fine boned, but she had stopped growing several years ago and he hadn't. Now, for the first time in their lives, Ainnileas was significantly taller than she was. Black hairs sprouted from his chin and upper lip, and his voice would still crack at the most inopportune moments.
    These things gave Ainnileas admission into the world of men that Selia would never have. Sometimes she hated him for it.
    "Did you enjoy yourself today, working with Dadai ?" she asked sweetly. As a textile merchant, their father was gone frequently, but when he was home he would occasionally bring Ainnileas along while he transacted business. These occasions were now happening more often and becoming more formalized as he prepared to join Niall in the business. Selia knew her brother found the trade of fine fabrics excruciatingly dull, and she smiled to herself as she poured her father another cup of ale.
    "Yes, as a matter of fact I did. We actually had quite an interesting day."
    "Did you now?”
    Ainnileas gave her a smug look. "Three of the Finngalls approached us looking for silk. We're lucky to have escaped with our lives after Father insulted them."
    She nearly splashed the remainder of the ale on the table. " Dadai ," she asked, "Is this true?"
    Niall gave her hand a pat. "Ainnileas is exaggerating as usual, my lass. No blood was spilled."
    Ainnileas laughed. "The heathens said they wanted silk to bring home to their wives, but Father didn't understand the Norse, and thought they said they wanted it for themselves—"
    "I understood the Norse well enough. What