Viking King's Vendetta

by Sky Purington

  Yet even through it all, she found herself making her way closer to Sven. Both her dragon and human half felt an overwhelming need to protect him. To keep an eye out for anything that might get by his defenses.

  He fought with even more aggression than yesterday, and she understood its root. Sexual frustration. It was hard to believe they had come so close only to be barred from one another. Her thoughts went to their kiss on the rock as she bashed a man upside the head with the pummel of her sword. That kiss had been the most amazing experience of her life. While she knew the reasons she had waited so long to kiss him that way, now it all seemed so silly.

  She could have been kissing him for years now. Feeling that way for years. Yet no. She had worried about losing what they had instead of embracing what they were supposed to be. The pure joy waiting for them.

  She ducked beneath a blade and growled in sexual frustration before she sliced a dagger across her opponent’s throat and imagined Sven between her thighs. The heat of his heavy, stiff cock against her. She punched a man then drove her sword into his liver. All that had separated her from Sven was a tiny bit of stubborn material.

  “No,” she muttered as she kicked another’s kneecap hard then shoved his nose up into his head. “All that separated us was a stupid tattoo.”

  The man’s dead eyes stared at her in response before he toppled over. Speaking of tattoos. She continued scanning the warriors through the driving rain and rocking ships. Where was their assassin? He had to be here somewhere.

  No sooner did she think it, than she locked onto someone suspicious. The warrior was smaller than his counterparts, but there was no missing his stealthy ways as he managed to keep just out of the fighting. Though there was no sign of a tattoo, to her mind that made sense. Why put it where it could be seen again?

  If anything, the enemy likely learned from his mistake yesterday.

  Though tempted to communicate with Sven telepathically, she wasn’t about to take any chances. So she kept on fighting, all the while moving closer and closer, assessing the man for anything that might help them in the future. From what she could tell, he was completely normal. No glassy mesmerized or even black eyes. He just seemed sleazy.

  She was nearly on him, ready to lunge when the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Her inner dragon roared up, and her vision went bright red. She wasn’t shifting, but her dragon was terrified, and Emily listened. Caught in a strange limbo made of repressed dragon magic, she spun, aimed and whipped her dagger without giving it any thought.

  The blade, thank the gods, missed Sven’s cheek by a centimeter and slammed into the windpipe of a man that had been seconds away from running his sword through her mate. Sven spun, and his eyes locked on the warrior as he fell to his knees. A man, as it turned out, with a fading dragon tattoo on his neck.

  She had taken down their assassin.

  Half a breath later, a blade slipped around her neck, and the sleazy man behind her roared, “Drop your weapons, or she dies!”

  The look in Sven’s eyes when he turned back was thunderous. He was so close to embracing his dragon that rain hissed and spit off his skin. Time seemed to slow as she thought fast and weighed her options. Her kin still fought, not quite comprehending what was happening yet.

  So she needed to act decisively.

  She needed to end this before they complied.

  “No,” she whispered as steam began rising off Sven’s skin. She spoke into his mind. “Stay your dragon, Sven. Our people and kin are too important for you to lose control.”

  Then she did something extremely risky. A move she had only ever practiced on Sven, and it never went well. Not ever. It always risked her jugular vein. But she had to give it a shot. She had to keep him from shifting.

  So she slammed her elbow back into the man and deflected the hand holding the dagger to her throat with her other arm. Thankfully, she got lucky, and he stumbled back. Adrenaline rushing, she punched him hard then drove her dagger up into his heart.

  “Gotcha,” she whispered, grinning before she pulled away then staggered back as she lost her balance. Having long perfected her sea legs, she didn’t understand at first until she saw blood pouring down her chest.

  “Crap,” she whispered as she pressed her hand against the wound on her neck. He had gotten her after all. Nicked the jugular based on the amount of blood. She turned and tried to stumble to a nearby mast for support, but Sven was already there, his eyes wide with fear.

  “Loki’s Hel, woman, you know better than to have done that,” he growled in anguish as he pressed his hand against her neck. Connected in a way only dragons could be, the others knew as soon as it happened that she was fatally wounded.

  Yet they had no choice but to keep fighting.

  Vigdis helped Sven lower her against the mast, replaced his hand with hers against Emily’s neck and met his eyes. “I will stay with her. You need to keep fighting, dragon.” When he shook his head, she cut him off with sharp words. “You need to help your kin and end this fighting if you intend to keep your people safe, King Sven.”

  His eyes drifted in shock to Emily. He was already lost thinking she was leaving him. She blinked and tried to nod to him that it was all right, but she wasn’t sure anything moved. Everything was going numb, and her tongue didn’t work.

  “Go!” Vigdis roared and shoved him with her free hand. “Now!”

  He nodded, his eyes tortured before he spun, roared and took up defense in front of them. But not before his whispered words rolled through her mind. How much he loved her. That he would keep her safe. He would be back. Not to fear. Then she might have even heard him mutter something about a damn wolf not protecting her like he said he would.

  Where was Fenrir anyway?

  That was the last thought she had before everything faded away entirely and she slipped into utter darkness.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “YOU SHOULD NOT do this,” Vigdis warned Sven. “But you will.” She nodded, giving her approval as her worried eyes fell to Emily. “Right now.”

  He didn’t care whether or not he had the seer’s permission to use dragon magic. Odin himself could deny Sven, and he would have done this. Because in the end, king or not, he refused to let Emily go when he had the power to save her.

  The last enemy warrior had been cut down, and his kin gathered around, lending them protection against the elements as he held Emily’s head on his lap. She had lost far too much blood, and her skin was ashen. Trying to still his shaking hand, he pressed it against her wound, closed his eyes and began chanting.

  As a rule, dragons healed very quickly, but this wasn’t something that would heal on its own. She needed immediate help from his particular brand of magic, and he intended to give it to her. Regrettably, it was the sort of magic that other dragons would be aware of. Namely, the enemy. Better yet, because they didn’t understand the dynamics of it, Skáld’s Ash might be aware. And that might alert it to their exact location. But then based on the ships that had just attacked them, it seemed it already had a good idea.

  So Sven kept chanting until he connected with her inner dragon.

  Until he saw it within his mind’s eye.

  Though tempted to do otherwise, he remained calm and focused as his dragon eyes locked with Emily’s dragon. Slumped over, clearly exhausted as its life force drained away, he allowed his vision to haze red and his inner dragon to take over. Though her dragon wasn’t physically wounded, it suffered from the same area on its neck as her human half.

  “It is time to be strong, dragon,” he said into her mind, knowing full well it would hear him where she couldn’t because she was already so far gone. “It is time to help me bring your human back.”

  Her dragon’s head lowered to the ground, and its eyelids slid shut.

  “You will listen to me,” he said forcibly as his dragon wrapped around hers. This way she had no choice but to be consumed by his magic. He began chanting again, pouring his life force into her. Making
her accept everything he had to give.

  Slowly, bit by bit, he poured his healing magic into her neck. At first, nothing happened. So he chanted louder, more forcibly. Still nothing. Her heartbeat grew slower and slower as she grew further and further away. Was this it? Was he going to lose her before they even had a chance to begin?

  No. Never. He refused to let her go.

  They were just beginning their journey together not saying goodbye.

  Yet he heard the final thump of her heart.

  He knew she was gone.

  But he refused to accept it. Would not. So he kept at it, cuddling closer, roaring telepathically that she return to him. He willed her to accept his strength, pushing it into her as only one dragon could another. As only he could her.

  Again, nothing.

  Not initially.

  Until there was something. A faint stirring. An extra hard thump of her heartbeat as though she was struggling to get back to him. Then finally, as bold as he ever hoped she'd be, she didn’t flee from him but accepted all he had to offer. Or so said her dragon when it finally dragged in air, opened its eyes and looked at him.

  No moment had ever been so profound.

  While he had done this for others, most recently, Jessie in Scotland, it was incomparable to doing such for Emily. Their connection was so strong that he sensed their dragons might just prefer to stay this way. Wrapped around each other and free of anything that could ruin this. Them. Being together. Not mated. Not yet. But something equally worthwhile in their opinion.

  Yet their dragons were nothing without their human halves.

  “Sven,” came her weak mental whisper. “What have you done?”

  “The only thing I could.” He nuzzled his cheek against hers. “I will not be without you.”

  Her dragon wrapped its neck around his and cuddled even closer, much like her human half had that morning. “I know we have to go back but...”

  When she trailed off, he found the strength for them both. “There is no ‘but.’ We must go back and keep our people safe. We must mate as we should and come into our full power.”

  Her head snapped back at that, and she growled. He knew it wasn’t at him but at anything that dared separate them. Then he realized, more aware of her dragon by the moment that things could easily get out of control because she was in heat. And this was not how he wanted to lay with her the first time.

  “Up, Emily,” he ordered as he stood and nudged her, all the while continuing to lend her healing power. “We have a responsibility to our people.”

  Her dragon grunted and huffed then hissed sparks of fire but complied, stronger by the moment as it stood. Confident that she would be all right, Sven began to retreat back into himself until he opened his eyes and was once more on the ship.

  “Her color is returning,” Håkon exclaimed, relief in his eyes. “And her wound is fading.”

  “Emily,” Sven said into her mind, caressing her cheek, his eyes locked on her face. “Can you hear me?”

  Nothing. No response. Then finally a faint, “Yes, I’m here.”

  Such profound relief washed over him he was momentarily speechless before he managed to nod at the others and say, “She’s coming back.”

  While his dragon had certainly healed hers, it needed to help her human half back too. Something not necessarily guaranteed when this sort of thing happened. Yet it had. She was returning. All were visibly relieved but fell silent again, waiting, until her eyelids finally fluttered open and her beautiful blue eyes met his.

  “Hey,” she whispered, managing a wobbly but small smile.

  “Hello, Emily.” Unable to stop himself, he brushed his lips across hers then murmured, “I missed you...we all missed you.”

  Her eyes stayed with his for another moment before drifting to everyone else. “Sorry about that. I thought I pulled it off...”

  They knew she referred to not getting away from her opponent unscathed.

  “You did pull it off.” Halla grinned at Sven then winked at Emily. “Because you worked together.”

  When Emily’s eyes returned to Sven’s, they were apologetic. “I’m so sorry I made you use your magic. Now we’re in trouble, huh?”

  “Things went as they did,” Kjar cut in. “Let us just be glad you are returned to us.”

  “Thanks to Sven,” she murmured, unmistakable love in her eyes as they met his. “And maybe even Hel...I’m not sure...”

  “Goddess Hel?” That wouldn’t surprise him considering she had literally died for a few moments. Which means she might have briefly crossed over to Helheim.

  “Yeah, Hel,” she whispered, following his thoughts. “I never saw her, but I heard her.”

  “What did she say?”

  “That I should be with you no matter what,” she said softly. “That I should always fight to remain by your side.”

  “A wise god,” he murmured, never so grateful for divine intervention in his life.

  “Yes,” Vigdis agreed. “Every once in a while Hel comes through, doesn't she?” In truth, Hel had always come through for Emily. And Vigdis like most of them was never entirely comfortable with that. But then they were talking about the god of death. The seer’s eyes turned to the sea. “I sense nothing sinister near us right now, but we should continue traveling north and hope the gods or Níðhöggr himself tells us where we should go ashore.”

  In agreement, they gathered as many weapons off the dead as they could manage without weighing the ship down too much, and continued on. It still stormed but not as harshly as before, providing enough wind to carry them swiftly.

  Sven kept Emily wrapped in a blanket on his lap as he sat on a bench near the stern. She would be weak for a bit as her dragon magic replenished the vast amount of blood she had lost. Even so, her eyes were brightening by the moment as they stayed on his face.

  “I really am sorry that I pulled that stunt,” she said softly. “I just didn’t see any other way.” She sighed. “Yet in the end, you still ended up using magic.”

  “Like Kjar said, it’s behind us.” He cupped her cheek, glad for its returning warmth as he struggled to keep his voice light. “Though I would prefer it if you never put me through that again.”

  “I won’t,” she promised, a much welcome sparkle in her eyes. “That was...interesting what our dragons shared, wasn’t it?”

  He knew precisely what she referred to. “Our kind does lie together in dragon form.”

  “I know,” she conceded. “I just never gave it much thought until now. It was a super bizarre feeling desiring it in that form.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “And someday we will give in to that temptation.” He ran his fingers along her cheek. “But not yet. Not for a while.”

  Though he’d never experienced it, he had heard mating as dragons was profound but intense in a way that even experienced women said took some getting used to. And Emily was nowhere near experienced. So that would be for a day far in the future. First, he thought, he wanted to simply have her as they were. In their human forms sharing their love in its entirety. Not just emotionally but physically.

  “Your tattoo has more color again,” Emily commented as she snuggled closer and yawned. “I wonder what we did now that Níðhöggr approved of.”

  “Hard to know,” he said softly as she rested her cheek against his chest and her eyelids slid shut. He kissed the top of her head and murmured in her ear, “Maybe it was as simple as showing him how far we would go for love.”

  “All the way,” she whispered before she drifted off to sleep.

  Yes, all the way.

  Every time.

  Emily slept soundly in his arms as they continued up the coast well into the evening. The storm abated, and the wind blew cooler as they crested small waves and clouds raced past a nearly full moon. The ship had been cleaned of blood, and everyone rested as Kjar kept watch. As they suspected, Håkon and Davyn’s tattoos seemed to be causing less pain the further north they went. There could be little d
oubt that meant they were drawing closer to Skáld’s Ash.

  Sven pulled the carving out of his pocket that he had whittled the night before. Based on the colors of his tattoo, he would say they were also heading towards it. Though roughly strewn, it appeared to be a valley encompassed by sheer cliffs. Within the valley were numerous waterfalls, staggered lakes, and woodland but no sign of any great ash that might be affiliated with Níðhöggr.

  Like the rest of them, he had assumed that it would be like back in the last war when Kjar’s ash in Maine connected with an ethereal ash of Samantha’s making in Scandinavia. One tree was a gateway to the other. But then this situation was vastly different. Maybe Níðhöggr didn’t want something so obvious on this end.

  Eventually, Sven leaned back against the mast and allowed himself to rest. Surprisingly, it came easier than expected, his dreams only of Emily. Sometimes they were flying together over lands the likes of which he had never seen. Other times they were swimming in human form, the water crystalline and sparkling.

  Then every so often, she would be beneath him in soft green grass, her ebony curls a wild halo on the ground around her head. She was tempting him, urging him on. Her eyes were dewy and aroused before her dragon eyes flared as he took her. They growled and thrashed, as their lovemaking intensified rapidly.

  As he claimed her as his mate.

  “Sven,” she exclaimed, not in his dream but beyond it as she ripped him free.

  His eyes snapped open as he awoke. Though still fully clothed, he had her beneath him on the ship’s bench, ready it seemed to see through his dream. Flustered, her wide eyes met his. “Are you awake now?”

  “Yes,” he managed, ridiculously aroused but at the same time aware that his kin were watching them with amused expressions. All except for Håkon and Davyn who had dutifully turned around, uncomfortable with the situation.