Greenland, present day

I wake up with a gasp, still lingering in a flurry of uneasy dreams.

Bluebells braided into red curls. Twirling tattoos on freckled skin. Runes carved onto an ivory surface. Thorny blackberry bushes. My ring glimmering in the sun as it's held out by an unknown hand.

And then there's him. A face etched in hardship and cold. Frayed hair dancing over hunched shoulders. Hands with dark spots from exposure to freezing temperatures. Eyes as dark blue as the treacherous sea, but around the pupil there's a small line of blue, like the clear sky of polar summer.

I don't know him, but his face won't leave me. Those eyes peer into mine even as my brain wakes from slumber.

Björn.

The name echoes through my mind as I blink awake. I hear the woman in the water calling this name and I recall Mikk shouting his warning from the cliffs.

Mikk.

His face won't leave me either. It's not etched into my dreams but rather into my waked thoughts. Thinking of him gives me a sense of calm, just like the cold island he hails from.

I relish in the difference between this place and my usual surroundings as I slowly become more alert. The sound is different; the ruckus from busy Stockholm streets is replaced by a humming draft from the wind. The light is different; the smog of city life no longer clouds the rays of the sun. Even the smells are different; smoked fish and seaweed permeate the air instead of asphalt and sweat.

I'm in Greenland. I've run to the end of the world.

The realization excites me. I actually did it. I left everything behind. I felt Stefan and his asshole-ish ways thousands of miles behind me.

Here, I will be able to breathe as I process everything that has happened over the last few weeks. Here, I can be free.

If only I can rise from the heavenly bed that Mikk's mother, Anu, showed me to last night, after first serving me piping hot fish stew. Mikk himself left once he knew I was cared for, after promising to return today to check on me.

I need to be out of here before then. Because I can't get sucked in by eyes that are as deep and dark as the polar sea. I can't get mesmerized by a smile as bright as the midnight sun. I can't get lost in the wilderness of love once again.

I didn't come here for a vacation fling with the Greenlandic version of a hot surfer boy (which is apparently a cool whale safari guide). I didn't come here to have my already shattered heart pulverized.

I have to protect myself. I have to run.

A knock on the door jolts me out of my anxious spiral of thoughts. "I got your stuff from the shore," a voice that already makes my heart race calls out from the other side of the door. "I'll put it right out here for you."

Mikk's already here.

Grabbing a bathrobe from the bed stand, I ascend from the nest of sheets and blankets that have been thawing my frozen limbs. Before opening the door, I peek through the peephole to make sure the hunky Greenlander isn't there. Once I discover that the coast is clear, I cautiously push the door open, snatch my bag and shoes, and pull the items into the room.

Now there's no reason for me not to leave. I have everything I need. My clothes, my laptop, my toothbrush.

So then why am I just standing there in the middle of the room, basking in the warm embrace of the morning sun while smelling newly baked bread from downstairs?

With a sigh, I shake my head to break the spell.

I cannot stay. That's a fact.

About fifteen minutes later, I've showered, got dressed, and packed all my stuff to leave. Quietly, I open the door a mere inch, making sure no one is around. I'm quite sure I saw a back door when I arrived, so I plan to sneak out through it before anyone notices. Sure, I will seem like an ungrateful bitch for just leaving, but at least my heart will be intact.

Well, as intact as Stefan left it at least. Still beating, but leaking like a colander.

Muffled voices are heard from downstairs. The cadence intrigues me. Clipped and with clicking sounds that are unknown to my ears. As I draw closer, I recognize the voices. It's Mikk and his mother. I wonder if they're talking about me. I mean, Mikk did after all turn up on his parents' doorstep last night with a soaking wet foreign girl by his side.

Luckily, the conversation doesn't seem harsh. I might not understand the words but I can interpret their tones. They snicker, laugh, and sneak in little jabs at each other. Hearing them makes me miss my own family. My parents and sisters. I left them far away as well, even though they are not to blame for anything that happened. I just couldn't stand their well-meaning questions and pitying looks.

Unable to resist eavesdropping on a conversation in a language very foreign to my ears, I curl up on the top step of the stairs, hiding behind the banister not to be seen. There's something so warm and inviting in the mere cadence and tone that begs me to stay just a while longer.

Wondering what time it is, I rummage through my pocket for my phone. But my hand find something else. Something smooth, hard, and carved with jagged runes.

Splashing water, jagged cliffs, a golden ring. Lips locking in a forbidden embrace.

A memory comes to me with force. But it's not my own memory.

A kiss filled with lust and longing, with no care in the world about what will break as lips crash together. They will wreck the whole world just for the opportunity to kiss.

"I'm right here," he tells her in a language I don't speak but still understand.

"I'm right here," a voice breaks through the flood of unknown memories. "Saga!"

I'm back on the stairs, staring into dark eyes that glint with mischief and promise. A trucker hat keeps unkempt hair--which I feel an urge to brush until it shines like the night sky--in place and a hoodie with Polar Tours Whale Safari printed covers wide shoulders.

Mikk found me before I could run. I have to admit I'm not entirely sad about this. Although that is the whole reason I need to run. Because soon I won't be able to. I won't be able to resist the allure of those eyes.

Quickly, I hide the beartooth in my pocket again. I don't want to explain the string of events that lead to me finding it.

"I'm here," I reply, trying to sound unbothered and aloof.

"You seemed far away. Just like in the water... Is something the matter?" His concern is both pulling me in and pushing me away.

"I'm fine," I insist, gathering my things and standing up. "I was just about to leave."

"Already?" He lifts an eyebrow in confusion. "I just talked to my mom and you're welcome to stay here as long you like, so there's no rush. Wildlife services will come by in the evening and they'll probably want to talk to you."

I shake my head, making sure not to look straight into those eyes that are as deep as the ocean. "I need to go," I mumble.

A warm hand land on my shoulder as I try to pass by. I stop in my tracks, sensing the heat from the body beside me.

"What are you running from, Saga?" he asks, or rather murmurs, close to my ear.

"I'm not running," I insist, making the mistake of looking his way.

I look into his eyes and I waver in my decision. It would be so easy to stay. With a sigh, I put my backpack down.

"You went to Greenland on a whim, without even having a hotel book. And now, less than 24 hours after getting attacked by a bear, you're about to leave again. I'd say you're running."

I don't object. Instead, I look down, trying to find the strength to keep to my decision. My hand travels into my pocket, fiddling with the hidden artifact.

"Where are you even going?" Mikk asks softly, taking a step closer. His scent reached my nostrils. Tar from the harbor and pine sap from the lands. "You're already at the edge of the world. How much further can you run? You'll end up frozen to death on a glacier."

I still don't reply as visions of forbidden kisses in the cold water are taking over my mind.

I don't know who they are, but I know they're not running from their fears or longings. So why am I?

"If I didn't know better, I would think you're running from me," Mikk concludes. "But I won't stop you. You're free to go wherever you want."

"I'm not running." I look up, allowing myself to drown in his eyes for a moment.

"Then stay," he asks, in a tone that is almost pleading. It makes me wonder if someone ran away from him in the past. "Just one more night at least. Let me show you the town and its surroundings. I mean, your first impression of Nuuk can't have been very positive, seeing you were almost mauled by a bear... So let me change that."

Unable to stop myself, I nod. "Just one more night," I promise.

Mikk smiles upon hearing my reply. It's a smile that makes my heart race and cheeks flush. Luckily, Greenland is cold so flushed cheeks are not an uncommon state.

It won't just be one night. I know that already. And as much as that prospect frightens me, it excites me more.

Author's Note: Of course, she couldn't leave :)

And welcome to the rom-com part of this story. Tune in next week for broody viking hardship in the other POV.