by Bec McMaster
Rurik's lips pressed tightly together. "He killed my father."
She looked up in shock. "What?"
"I felt his magic in my father's chambers that night. Sirius was there the night my father died."
No. "That doesn't mean he murdered the king."
A little voice inside her whispered, "Are you certain?"
"It doesn't mean he didn't. But he knows who did, either way. He was one of the dreki who told the court I'd done it."
The Blackfrost.... It didn't sound like him. She'd come to learn he respected honor and dreki laws. There had to be more to this story than she imagined. "So you'll just leave him there?" she whispered. "And Andri? Is this how you repay two dreki who saved your life?"
Rurik pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll handle it, Malin. I promise. I'll... work out some way to free the both of them, and then... then Sirius and I can have a reckoning."
Her shoulders fell. "But it will be too late."
"Nothing's too late," Rurik murmured. "I have something Stellan and my mother want—or Haakon does anyway—and they have something I want. I'll offer a trade. We'll remove mother's bracelet in exchange for my cousins lives."
He touched her chin. "It will be all right, Malin. I promise."
She tried to swallow her doubt. There was only one bracelet, after all, and two dreki brothers to rescue.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Rurik nodded shortly, and then entered the farmhouse, leaving her out there in the night.
He would save them. She was certain of it. He had to.
He was the prince.
But what if he was forced to make a choice between Andri, the good brother everyone loved, and the Blackfrost, who he suspected had a hand in his father's death?
A shiver ran through her.
Epilogue
Six months later....
The wind blew a pair of strangers through her door, and Árdís glared as they tracked mud all over her floors. It felt strange to have a home, especially one that lurked in the shadow of her brother's volcano. Haakon had built it for her with his bare hands, and though his heart belonged elsewhere, they would stay here until the threat of her mother was subdued once and for all.
"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, pointing to the muddy floor even as a surge of joy made her dizzy. "And what is that on your face?"
The stranger scrubbed a hand through his fine blond bristles. "It's called a beard. I haven't been able to shave. Someone broke my mirror," he said with a pointed look toward his companion, who laughed.
"You see," she said, setting her hands on her hips. "You look like my husband. You smell like him. But he was supposed to be home weeks ago, and he doesn't wear a beard. How do I know you're really him?"
Haakon eyed her. "You have a little mole, right here," he said, stabbing a finger into the right side of his chest. "You adore emeralds, and you are a terrible cook, and you are very ticklish right between—"
"That's enough!" she said breathlessly. "I believe you."
"Right between where?" Tormund asked, looking mildly interested.
"You don't like it?" Haakon drew his hand through his beard, his eyes twinkling. "And you know it’s me. Haven't you felt me coming closer every day?"
“I didn't say I didn't like it.” Her heart throbbed in her chest, and she took a step toward him. "I could grow used to it, perhaps. Where have you been? You were supposed to go see your mother and then come straight back home to me. If I couldn't feel you out there, then I'd have been terrified you'd met your end."
Haakon grinned at her, "And this is the way you greet me after I've been gone for nearly two months?"
She couldn't hold herself back anymore. She threw herself into his arms, pressing her hungry mouth to his. The taste of him exploded through her, and his hands cupped her under the bottom, driving her against a certain sign he was more than happy to see her. It was a sloppy kiss, and his beard tickled her mouth, but she couldn't draw away. It left her breathless, and suddenly she couldn't remember why she was so angry anymore.
Haakon slowly set her down, a certain look in his eyes. “It's been a long time.”
“It has,” she returned.
He smiled. "But I need a bath first."
Haakon stepped aside, swinging his cloak from his shoulders. Tormund held his arms wide with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. "My turn?"
She rolled her eyes, but she hugged him too.
"Just keep your hands and lips to yourself," Haakon warned, from where he was settling his saddlebags over the back of her kitchen chair. "I'd hate to have to break your fingers."
She could barely control herself. She felt giddy. "You still haven't told me where you've been. What happened? Is your mother well? The children? Your sisters?"
"All well. I have more nephews and nieces. They're breeding like rabbits."
Her smile softened, and she didn't quite press her hand to her lower abdomen. That was a secret between them, and she didn't wish to share it with Tormund yet.
Haakon stripped out of his coat, the white of his shirt blinding. He tugged something from the collar of his shirt, but she couldn't see what it was. Something on the end of a chain. "We made a slight detour on the way home."
It took the wind right out of her sails. "Is that—?"
Haakon's palm unfolded, revealing a very familiar ring. The ring twinkled on her finger. Árdís clapped her hands to her mouth, and tears filled her eyes, as they were prone to do these days.
"Your ring," Haakon said gruffly, taking her hand and sliding it slowly onto her finger.
Árdís could barely breathe. She had her ring back. Her ring.
"We are legends now. You are looking at Tormund Kraken-slayer." Tormund grinned at her. "Your husband said he could spear the bastard first, but I was the one who took him down. And then we dragged it ashore, and cut out its heart—"
"That was the easy part," Haakon muttered. "Its heart was the size of a cow, so we had to find a wagon to haul it. You cannot imagine the stink of it after a week overland. I daresay Lord Fáfnir was not as pleased with his end of the bargain as he thought he might be."
She stared at him, her mouth open.
"Aye," Tormund added. "It was almost a relief to hit those sulfurous mud pools. Something to cleanse the nostrils."
"You slew a kraken?"
"Not a simple endeavor," Haakon drawled, "but it was easier than the other options Fáfnir would trade for, and I was pressed for time."
Árdís slammed a fist against his chest. "You idiot! You could have been killed. You know my mother and her dreki are watching us. And a kraken! They've been known to tear ships to pieces."
"Damned near did," Tormund admitted, and then shut his mouth abruptly when Haakon's head turned sharply toward him. "Not," he added. "It did not come close to tearing the ship apart."
"What were you thinking?" she cried.
"I told you not to trade the ring to him."
"I had no choice! It was either it—or you. Now I'm starting to regret that decision."
"Ah, ah, ah." A growl curled out of his throat, and he hauled her into his arms. "Mind your temper, Árdís. I just battled a kraken for you, and then tricked an enormous dreki into handing over your ring in exchange for its heart. I'm not scared of you anymore."
She grabbed a fistful of his collar.
He smiled.
Gods, that beard. A lick of heat wet her thighs. If she didn't kiss him again, and soon, then she was going to erupt.
"Tormund." Haakon gave his cousin a telling look.
Tormund sighed, and slapped a pile of coins on the table. "Fine. You do know her better. And on that note, I think I have a sudden urge to go see to my horse."
"Do that."
"And stay in the barn tonight," she called.
Tormund backed away with both hands in the air.
Árdís growled as soon as the enormous man vanished through the doorway, shutting it quickly behind him. "You bet o
n me?"
Haakon let her go, and crossed his arms over his chest. "He seemed to think he knew you better than I did. He said you'd be overwhelmed with gratitude when I brought your ring home. I said you'd be furious. At first."
Árdís stabbed a finger into his chest. "Fáfnir is not someone to toy with, damn you. He hates my father. He made me trade the ring because he knew it would cause me the most pain. Or he thought it would. Do you know why I gave it to him? Because if he had any clue how much you meant to me, he would have bartered for you instead."
"It's your wedding ring," he growled back, trying to fight a smile. "It belongs on your finger, so all the world knows you're mine."
Her voice rose. "Stop smiling at me. You're ruining this."
"Ruining what?" He took a step toward her, and her back hit the wall. "Are you trying to work up to a good fight, sweetheart?"
"Trying."
Haakon pressed his forearms against the wall, and leaned closer. "Mmm." He bit his lip, a twinkle in his eyes. "Maybe we could just skip the argument for once? Get right to the good stuff."
She sucked in a sharp breath. "I swear—"
"To all the gods." The back of his fingertips brushed her cheek. "Are you happy to have it back, Árdís?" he murmured, pressing her to the door and brushing his lips along her jaw.
"Don't think...." A soft gasp escaped her as his erection ground right where she wanted it. "Don't think you're going to kiss your way out of this one."
"No?" His mouth whispered across her lips.
A surge of pure heat sheared through her. Somehow her unruly hands were in his hair.
"Damn you, I love you. My mother could have captured you. Any of the court could have made a play for you, and I wouldn't have known until it was too late." She held his face to hers, staring deep into his eyes. "You knew I couldn't follow you."
"Not without risking the child, no."
The precious child she'd discovered she was carrying. She'd gone into heat the second she bound his soul to hers, as if the bond had flicked some switch in her brain. It had been an overwhelming couple of weeks where everyone, even Rurik, had barely dared knock on their door. All Árdís could remember was naked skin beneath her lips, her hands, and her husband pinning her to the bed, driving himself into her. She'd been insatiable, and Haakon had more than made up for lost time, until they could barely move.
Heat incinerated her. Haakon licked at her lips. "Perhaps I can kiss it all better?"
Oh, gods. She gave up, and wrapped her arms around him. "I will let you kiss it better," she growled, "as long as you promise not to go hunting any more dragons or kraken, or wyrms or trolls.... Or anything else that might take you from my side."
Haakon caught her up under the thighs, and locked her legs around his hips as he strode toward the bedroom. "It's a deal, my love. No more dragons for me. Just this one little temperamental dreki to master."
"I'll give you 'master.'"
He laughed, even as he captured her mouth in a kiss.
###
BEFORE YOU LEAVE THE LEGENDS OF THE STORM WORLD
Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for reading Storm of Desire! I hope you enjoyed the journey with Haakon and Árdís. While their story is done, as you’ve probably guessed, you might be seeing more of them in the future. Read on for a glimpse of what’s in store for Sirius and Malin in Clash of Storms.
If you want to share your thoughts with other readers, please consider leaving a review online (it doesn’t have to be very long and I would be very grateful).
Click here to leave a review for Storm of Desire.
Want to know more about Clash of Storms release date? Make sure you sign up to my newsletter to be the first to know when its available, read exclusive excerpts, and see the cover reveal.
Here are some other ways to stay updated:
* Like me on Facebook
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I hope we meet again between the pages of another book!
Cheers,
Bec McMaster
P.S Not ready to leave the Legends of the Storm world? Read on for a preview of what’s next in Clash of Storms…
CLASH OF STORMS
A dangerous prince. And a drekling servant. Can this villain become her hero?
When Malin joins forces with the Blackfrost to rescue the princess she loves, she has no idea of the journey ahead of her. This dark prince watches her every move, and protects her from those who might harm her—but is there something more to the look in Sirius’s eyes?
Malin is a nobody in the dreki world. A servant far beneath him. And though his kiss burns through her like lightning, he’s keeping far too many secrets for her to ever trust him….
But when he sacrifices himself at her bequest, does Malin have the strength to save him from a fate worse than death? And can she ever give this wicked prince her heart?
Sign up to my newsletter to be the first to know about the release date of Clash of Storms.
Also by Bec McMaster
DARK ARTS SERIES
Three estranged brothers are the only ones who stand between a demon hell-bent on unleashing itself on this plane, and a Victorian-era London blissfully unaware of the danger.
Shadowbound
Hexbound
Soulbound
BURNED LANDS SERIES
First rule of surviving the Wastelands? Don’t get caught out after dark, when the monsters come out to play… Post-apocalyptic romance featuring some bad boy heroes, and the women who are determined to love them.
Nobody's Hero
The Last True Hero
The Hero Within
LEGENDS OF THE STORM SERIES
The old eddas speak of dreki—fabled creatures who haunt the depths of Iceland's volcanoes, and steal away fair maidens.
Heart Of Fire
Storm of Desire
Clash of Storms
LONDON STEAMPUNK SERIES
In Victorian London, if you’re not a blue blood of the Echelon then you’re nothing at all. The Great Houses rule the city with an iron fist, imposing their strict ‘blood taxes’ on the nation, and the Queen is merely a puppet on a string… But a few brave heroes and heroines are determined to challenge the status quo.
Kiss Of Steel
Heart Of Iron
My Lady Quicksilver
Forged By Desire
Of Silk And Steam
Novellas in same series:
Tarnished Knight
The Curious Case Of The Clockwork Menace
LONDON STEAMPUNK: THE BLUE BLOOD CONSPIRACY
Three years ago, London society changed forever, with a revolution casting down the elite blue bloods who ruled London, but not everybody is happy with the new order… Its up to the newly-formed Company of Rogues to find out who.
Mission: Improper
The Mech Who Loved Me
You Only Love Twice (coming)
To Catch A Rogue (coming)
Dukes Are Forever (coming 2019)
SHORT STORIES
The Many Lives Of Hadley Monroe
About the Author
BEC MCMASTER is a writer, a dreamer, and a travel addict. If she’s not sitting in front of the computer, she’s probably plotting her next overseas trip, and hopes to see the whole world, whether it’s by paper, plane, or imagination. She grew up on a steady diet of ’80s fantasy movies like Ladyhawke, Labyrinth, and The Princess Bride, and loves creating epic, fantasy-based romances with heroes and heroines who must defeat all the odds to have their HEA. She lives in Australia with her very own hero, where she can be found creating the worlds of the London Steampunk, Dark Arts, Legends of The Storm, or Burned Lands series, where even the darkest hero can find love.
For more information:
www.becmcmaster.com
Acknowledgments
Iceland. And dragons (or dreki, because I wouldn’t want to offend them). Two of my all-time greatest
loves combined in one book: travel and fantasy. You can probably tell I simply adore writing in this world.
But its one thing to write the darned book, and another thing to create something worth reading. I couldn't have done it without a lot of help from these amazing people:
I owe huge thanks to my editor Olivia from Hot Tree Editing for her work in making sure everything is in its right place, and for being so understanding when I missed my edit date; to the wonderful readers in my Facebook Fan Page, Joylyn, Candance, Steph and Tami for help with the beta reader feedback; to my wonderful cover artists from Damonza.com; and Marisa Shor and Allyson Gottlieb from Cover Me Darling for the print formatting. To Kylie Griffin and Jennie Kew, as always, who are the best support team any writer could dream of, and for digging into the nitty-gritty during the beta read; and the Central Victorian Writers group for keeping me sane and celebrating the small goals with all those chocolates!
Last, but not least, to all of my readers who support me on this journey, and have been crazy vocal about their love for the London Steampunk series, and anything else I write! I hope you enjoy this side trip to a 19th Century Iceland that I wish had existed.
