Sailing Through Time - CAV LASTER (bts books to read .txt) 📗

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