Viking King's Vendetta

by Sky Purington

  “I see you were lured by her dragon, Sven,” Vigdis said. “It will soon grow impossible for you to say no.”

  “I can’t wait to go into heat,” Halla commented, grinning. “It looks like it adds more passion to the passion.”

  They all knew full well Halla had started taking men to her bed as soon as she was allowed. In a Viking community, women typically started lying with men young. Halla, however, had a twenty-first century mother and an overprotective father so she started later than she would have liked. Something they all heard about more often than they’d like.

  Sven got off Emily and helped her up, apologizing. “It seems my dream got the better of me.”

  “Not a problem. My dragon can be persuasive.” She seemed considerably better as she smiled. “And feel free to let your dreams get the better of you anytime.” She winked. “Preferably when family isn’t around.”

  He nodded in agreement as he looked her over again, paying attention to her balance more than anything. For any residual signs of the blood loss she had suffered. “How are you feeling? Are you dizzy at all?”

  “Well, yeah.” She chuckled. “But for the right reasons.” Then she grew a little more serious when she realized how concerned he was. “I’m doing okay, Sven. No worries. In fact, I feel pretty great.”

  “That would be your hormones,” Vigdis offered. “And the afterglow of being healed by your mate in such a state.”

  Though they weren't mates yet, he very much liked being called that.

  “Speaking of being in a state.” Emily's eyes narrowed on the seer, the dragon flickering within. “I got the impression you had a theory on why Sven’s tattoo kept us from being together. I’d love to hear it. I think we both would.”

  “Actually, Sven figured it out,” Vigdis said as she nodded at him. “Or should I say he shares in my assessment.”

  When Emily looked at him in question, he explained. “If this tattoo has proven nothing else, it is that it’s determined to bring us closer and steer us in the right direction.” He eyed his wood carving. “That direction being wherever this is.” He met her eyes again. “We all know that dragons grow stronger once they’ve lain with their fated mates. You and I are likely to be considerably stronger, or Níðhöggr would not have marked me.”

  Emily continued for him as she caught snippets of his thoughts and began to understand. “When that happens, the initial spark will likely be sensed by the enemy, and he will attack with all his might.” She nodded as she understood. “So we're thinking Níðhöggr is keeping us from mating until we make it to the safety of this place. We can only hope that means the location is safe from Skáld and his assassins, not to mention the dragons at the base of his ash.”

  Before Sven could respond, she frowned. “Now, because I caused you to use your magic, all that pre-planning might be null and void.”

  “That no longer matters,” he reminded as Håkon handed him some dried meat and a skin of water to break his fast. “So do not blame yourself anymore. It serves no purpose.”

  Though Emily sighed, she nodded. She knew things were as they were and if nothing else, she had learned from her mistake.

  “The wind is shifting,” Kjar murmured, his eyes on the horizon. “It is steering us away from shore but still north.”

  “On purpose then?” Davyn said.

  Kjar nodded. “Yes, it is not natural.”

  “My tattoo is starting to sting again.” Sven looked at his cousins. “What about yours?”

  They shook their heads.

  Emily sat beside Sven and eyed his tattoo with concern. As the wind increased, the stinging turned into that all-too-familiar pain, and he flinched. Its colors seemed to be brightening a bit more as if trying to tell them something. A message, it seemed, Emily understood before anyone else.

  “We’re going in the wrong direction.” She shook her head and frowned, her eyes never leaving the tattoo. “I just know it.”

  “Look,” Halla exclaimed, pointing inland as her dragon eyes flickered. “There is an oddity to those cliffs we passed, is there not?”

  “There is,” Sven agreed, eying the area as his vision hazed red. “One specifically designed for dragon eyes.”

  “Based on your tattoo I’d say us,” Kjar said as he glanced at Håkon and Davyn’s tattoos again with concern.

  “There is no decision to be made here.” Håkon shook his head, understanding the demi-god’s worries. “If Sven’s tattoo wants us to go in that direction, then we must go.”

  Torn, Emily’s concerned eyes went to her brother’s tattoo before returning to Sven’s.

  “Håkon is right,” Davyn agreed as he looked at Sven. “We will get through our pain if it happens. Just as we did at the Place of Seers.”

  Sven eyed them a moment, not overly pleased before he nodded and stood. “We will head inland.”

  If the pain got too bad, they could stay on the ship though that didn’t sit overly well with him either. It was best everyone remained together. As it turned out, getting inland proved more and more difficult as the weather worsened and the water grew rougher. They ended up semi-reefing the sail and taking to oar. Not only that, but they were right in their speculations. As the ship rocked precariously and they grew closer, the pain in Sven’s tattoo lessened while it increased in his kin. Even so, they rowed hard, fighting the cross currents made of two types of magic pulling them both inland and out.

  “Where did it go?” Halla yelled over the crashing waves and increasing winds. “I cannot see those particular cliffs anymore.”

  Everyone eyed the shore as they struggled with their oars and Kjar manned the rudder. There was nothing there now. No beacon of safety. Yet his cousins were clearly in increasing pain which told him something was there. When his eyes met Håkon’s in growing concern, his cousin’s jaw tightened in determination, and he shook his head no. Davyn did the same.

  They would continue on.

  “I see it,” Emily suddenly cried out. “Or should I say I see Fenrir.”

  Sven narrowed his eyes, not seeing anything at first before he eventually saw the white wolf. More so, his piercing blue eyes through the weather. As they headed in that direction, waves crashed over the sides of the boat, and the sail whipped every which way. But they never gave up, not even Håkon and Davyn as their tattoos grew blacker and pain twisted their faces.

  Moments later, all control over the boat ended as the ship lurched forward of its own accord and they pulled in their oars. What happened next, better yet what they saw, truly caught every last one of them off guard.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “WOW,” SHE WHISPERED, blinking several times as the weather cleared, and the water stilled. Half a breath later, they were in a bay completely surrounded by sheer sparkling cliffs and thick, vibrant foliage. The water was so clear they could see the bottom.

  Scandinavia possessed many stunning locations but nothing like this. Not nearly.

  Yet their immediate surroundings weren't the truly amazing part.

  “Is that an ash tree?” Halla whispered, as awe-struck as the rest of them.

  Towering, more monstrous than any tree in existence, it sat atop something they couldn’t see from here. Like the ash in Maine, its leaves were both green and golden. Yet unlike that ash, it seemed to have its own inner glow. As if it were the sun at the center of its own universe.

  “How are your tattoos?” Sven asked Håkon and Davyn.

  “The pain is gone,” Håkon reported, relief apparent on his face.

  “Mine too,” Davyn said.

  “And yours, Sven?” Emily asked, noting it possessed even more color now.

  “No pain,” he replied as they reefed the sail entirely and rowed toward one of several long docks. For all intents and purposes, this appeared a port ready for their arrival. Fenrir waited patiently on the end of the dock as they pulled up and tied off.

  “Where have you been?” She frowned at him. “And how did you get here?”


  “I am sorry, I do not know,” he replied, disgruntled. “One moment I was with you, the next in Helheim then here.”

  “So you are being shifted about like other spirits.” Sven helped her out of the boat. “Did you come across anyone along the way? Hel? Eirik?”

  “No.” Fenrir trotted alongside them as they headed up the dock. “All was strangely quiet on my journeys.”

  “Even here?” Emily asked. She couldn't help but think about her brief encounter with Hel when she nearly died. Was the goddess trying to connect with her? Had she sent the wolf here without him being the wiser? She was capable of most anything in her own world. If, that is, she was still somewhere in her own world.

  “Yes, it is especially quiet here,” Fenrir responded in answer to Emily’s question. “I have come across no humans, dragons or even spirits. Only animals.”

  So at least there was food.

  “I know where you can rest and bathe,” Fenrir continued, a frown obvious in his voice as he sniffed Emily, likely smelling that she had been injured. “It is clear you have been through some trying times, and the way is steep if you wish to head for the ash. Therefore it is wise for you to rest first.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” Then she reassured him. “And I’m all right. Sven took care of me.”

  Did he ever. Her mind kept returning not only to the way he had made her feel when he healed her but that morning in his dream. Or should she say their dream? Because though she hadn’t said as much, she had sensed it right along with him. In all honesty, she had a feeling she manifested and controlled it because her growing need for him was all-consuming. It made logical thought more and more difficult. All she could think about was lusting after him. So it made perfect sense she would bring them into a dream like that. That she would lie on the cool grass and spread her legs for him.

  “I agree it is best to bathe and rest,” Vigdis said when Sven caught them up on what Fenrir had said. Though she didn’t say anything specific, the seer’s eyes were telling as they met Emily’s and Sven’s. It was time to test some theories now that they had arrived in what they assumed was Níðhöggr’s location.

  As they soon discovered, the place Fenrir had found for them wasn’t that far inland. A widening of a stream that ran down from the mountains, it was surrounded by thick trees and hosted lots of nooks and crannies. Or so it seemed as Sven and Emily explored.

  They didn’t go too far, but far enough for privacy.

  “This whole area seems enchanted,” she murmured as he kept poking around until he peered around a thick tree trunk and froze.

  “What is it?” She joined him, equally shocked as she stared at a vibrant bed of grass near a portion of the river slightly upstream from the others. “Is that?”

  When she trailed off, his hand slipped into hers. “It does look...familiar.”

  If she wasn’t mistaken, it was the very spot they had dreamt about last night. Sun glistened down through the trees, speckling the grass in warmth.

  “I was in that dream too, Sven,” she murmured as an odd feeling overcame her. “I think I might have created it...or foreseen it.” She shook her head. “I can’t remember the last time I had a prophetic episode.”

  “I would guess that this is your dragon’s doing,” he said softly as he set down their satchels then turned to her. The look in his eyes was unmistakable. Hungry. “A dragon that grows eager, yes?”

  “Yes, very eager,” she whispered as her heart started thumping harder. “Just like me.” Her eyes went to his tattoo. “But—”

  He put a finger to her lips and shook his head. “We will not worry until there’s something to worry about.” His eyes never left hers as he yanked off his tunic then began slowly pulling at the strings on the front of hers. “We will bathe then we will try what was denied us before.”

  Her vision hazed red at the sight of his bared muscles and broad shoulders, at the sight of his masculinity. How well formed he was. Lust roared to the surface as he pulled her shirt over her head. Just the way he looked at her made her dragon desperate for him. The worship in his eyes as he took in her nudity then touched her gently. First, he grazed the side of her breast, then beneath it before he trailed his fingers softly down her stomach to the top of her pants.

  She closed her eyes as gooseflesh raced over her and he dropped to his knees. They were never going to make it to the water. No way. Not yet. She struggled for breath as he removed her boots, lowered her pants then had her step out of them. Trembling, she placed her hands on his shoulders, opening her eyes just enough to watch him rest his forehead against her belly.

  Hands braced on her hips, a tremor rippled through his body as he inhaled deeply and stayed like that for several moments. He didn’t have to say a word. She knew he was absorbing her. Cherishing the moment as much as she was. Drowning in every second that brought them one step closer to each other.

  All it took were a few soft kisses peppered down her stomach for her legs to grow considerably weaker. Sensing her ability to stand was quickly waning; he wrapped his arms around her and urged her to sink to her knees. She trembled the whole way, profoundly aware of his skin against hers. The wonderful friction.

  “Emily,” he whispered, still holding her with one arm when her knees met the ground. He cupped the side of her neck and cheek with his free hand before his lips closed over hers. There were more unsaid words churning in his mind.

  How beautiful he found her.

  How much he wanted this.

  How long he had waited.

  As their kiss deepened, she became lost but not before he assured her there was no pain in his tattoo. Just pleasant warmth. A warmth, she realized, that was spreading through them both. She wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way, their tongues twirling and dancing as they kissed and touched one another. As they explored.

  At some point, he laid her back and made his way down her body while somehow managing to yank off his boots and pants. She had never felt so sumptuous, nearly purring as he took his time kissing and occasionally flicking his tongue over every last inch of her. Not only did he make her feel remarkably beautiful but aroused her to no end as he sampled and tasted and even inhaled deeply, pulling in her scent.

  They were so connected she even caught flickers of herself through his dragon eyes. It was profound in an indescribable way. Deeply sensuous. Exciting. By the time his mouth found her center, she was very much in her own mind again. She groaned and growled in unabashed pleasure as she dug one hand into his hair and the other into the warm grass.

  She tried to say his name, anything at all, but only managed to pant and cry out as he did all sorts of delicious things to her. When the first wave of harsh pleasure swept over her, she nearly leapt up, but he held her down, forcing her to accept how good she felt rather than fight it.

  Which, of course, her dragon very much approved of.

  For that matter, her dragon approved of Sven’s every touch, stroke, and manipulation. So much so that she was a blissful mess by the time he finally made his way back up. Beyond emotional, she wasn’t surprised when he caught one of her numerous tears on the tip of his tongue. Tears she hadn’t realized were falling. While she would like to say it was her dragon hormones, she knew it was more than that. Much more.

  It was love.

  The purest kind.

  “Shh,” he whispered, dropping small kisses on her cheeks and forehead before his eyes met hers in both love and question. He didn’t have to say a word. She knew what he was asking. Was she ready?

  “Yes,” she whispered, so ready it hurt.

  So in love, it hurt.

  It seemed like everything flashed before her eyes at that moment. All their long conversations. The many years they shared. Their laughter and countless memories. Everything that brought them to this day. This very second. There was no fear here. No worry about what came next. Just a readiness to leap forward together. To pave a new path.

  His eyes never left hers as he gently
pressed forward, so tender with her more tears fell. She barely felt a pinch he had her so aroused. So ready for him. Though he whispered ‘relax’ into her mind, he didn’t need to. She was opening to him, welcoming him. He was her Sven. How else could it be?

  Though she certainly felt a stretching sensation, by the time he filled her, the only discomfort she experienced was intense, searing arousal. Though his tattoo gave him no pain, its warmth had increased along with their bodies and only seemed to fuel the fire burning in their blood.

  “Sven,” she said on a strangled, hoarse groan as blistering arousal kept roaring up. A combination of her dragon lust and her long desire for him, it was startling in its intensity. He seemed to be experiencing the same thing based on the fire sizzling in his eyes and the steam rising off his skin.

  Though she knew what they had begun was an unstoppable force that could very well leave her pregnant, she was desperate for him to satiate her. To satisfy this painful ache fanning out from where they were joined.

  Just as desperate, he began thrusting slowly at first before he picked up speed. Nothing had ever felt so good. No, far, far beyond good. Far beyond mind-blowing. She knew she was loud, that she mewled and cried out over and over as she wrapped her legs around him. But nothing could quiet her. Nothing could keep her from reveling and immersing herself completely in this. In him.

  His eyes never strayed from hers as he thrust and took her someplace brand new. Somewhere she writhed and drowned in utter lust and desire. Where spirit and flesh combined in a wondrous, addictive never-ending combination.

  Sometimes he moved faster, sometimes slower, all perfectly synchronized with what her body and even her dragon seemed to need. There could be no doubt they were mates as he built her up and up until he pressed deep one last time, shuddered, and they both finally let go.

  When they did, their eyes still together, sweeping waves of intense pleasure became a surreal almost out-of-body experience. As if their dragons were flying together in a way they never had before. As though they were transcending to a place only the two of them had ever known.