RAGNAR

“Quick, we need to hide her. He knows she is alive,” my mother Gina said—her voice hoarse, and her hands which rested on my head trembled. “What do you mean, he knows Gina? We have kept her hidden for so long. How can he find her now? I made sure not to leave any traces at her birth. I made sure he believed she was dead, and I knew he did. So how did he find her?” a masculine voice growled beside me. He sounded familiar—so very familiar yet distant. I turned to face him. His face blurry, and I could barely make out his features. I squinted my eyes, trying to make out the shape of his face. And as if a fog was cleared out of my vision, his handsome features greeted me. Dark black eyes, filled with so much fear yet love as he gazed at my mother. His face looked like one I had seen too many times, but still he felt somewhat like a stranger to me. His full thick brows creased, as he let out a pained sigh. The urge to smoothen the crease filled me, along with the feeling of wanting to take