Viking Warrior Rebel

by Asa Maria Bradley

  Astrid didn’t argue, but she had a pretty good idea what this creepy place was. All that was missing was Doctor Frankenstein. She kept the grip on her gun and pulled out her phone with the other hand to snap several pictures of the chair, the weird refrigerators, and the cages.

  “What the fuck?” Ulf growled.

  Astrid looked up. He was staring at her left hand.

  Mother of Valkyries, she’d forgotten all about the serpent tail. There was nothing she could say, so she braced herself and returned Ulf’s hard gaze as it shifted from her hand to her face. Anger blazed in his eyes, and something else. Hurt? She swallowed.

  “Holden,” Ulf spit out.

  She nodded even though he hadn’t phrased it as a question.

  “Why?” He took a step toward her. “How could you?” His nostrils flared as his berserker rose to the surface.

  She stood her ground, but her inner warrior wanted to answer the challenge.

  Fight, it growled.

  “It’s not like I had a choice,” Astrid said. “The bond happened on its own. Ask Leif or Naya.”

  “Don’t you dare compare your sordid affair to their relationship,” Ulf hissed. “And you did have a choice. You should have stayed out of his bed.” He spit on the floor, threw down the rebar, and walked toward the door. As he reached the exit, he flipped off the lights and slammed the door behind him.

  Astrid stared at the small beam of light the screen of her phone provided. That could have gone so much better. And now that Ulf knew about the själsfrände bond, it was only a matter of time before he told the rest of the warriors. She’d thought dealing with their pent-up testosterone before was a challenge, but this would make things so much worse.

  Mother of Valkyries, the wedding was the next day.

  The queen really didn’t need Astrid’s messed-up situation ruining her day. Somehow Astrid needed to convince Ulf to keep quiet for another twenty-four hours.

  Using her phone as a light, she ran after him, only to reach an empty parking lot. The shithead had taken the Escalade and left her stranded.

  He was going to pay for that.

  She debated calling one of the other warriors for a ride, but then she’d have to explain why she needed one. And either way, she wouldn’t catch up with Ulf before he blabbered the news all over the fortress. Better to stay low for a while.

  They still needed to get what they discovered to Irja though. Astrid typed out an email on her phone and attached the pictures before sending them to the Finnish Valkyrie.

  Her next step was to find Holden. It was way past time for the two of them to talk.

  She needed to prepare him for the testosterone overload he would now face at the wedding.

  Chapter 19

  Luke poured himself two fingers of Lagavulin and sipped the smoky single-malt whiskey as he walked to the windows to watch the nighttime view. His apartment was on the top floor. It was a converted loft, all open plan, with one entire wall made out of windows. He was strangely proud of the fact that as his alter ego Holden, he made enough completely legal money to pay for the place. None of the money-laundering profits were spent on his living expenses. All that currency went into a special bank account. The plan had been for the Domestic Terrorist Unit to claim the funds eventually, but now that Whalert was in hiding, Luke had no idea what would happen.

  He watched the streets below and felt far removed from the busy traffic. The apartment was a sanctuary. Here he could relax and just be himself, whoever that was. Astrid had him all confused about how much of himself he wanted to share with her.

  He focused on his own reflection in the window as he took another sip of the single malt. He might have to remain in Holden’s persona forever, unless Whalert found a way to flush out the corruption within the DTU. There had been no word from his boss—his former boss. Luke had spent hours trolling discussion forums on the Hair Club for Men website. He now knew way too much about male pattern baldness, but there had been no messages from Whalert. And he really needed to get in touch with the guy.

  Luke had met with Kraus earlier in the day under the pretext of offering money-laundering services through the nightclub. The FBI/DTU file on Kraus revealed him to be one sick dude who basically did anything, no matter how illegal or how despicable, as long as there was a big payout in the end. There were several indicators that he was involved in human trafficking, but no concrete proof. Luke’s instincts told him there was no way that Kraus showing up in Pine Rapids at the same time as the abducted Mexican nationals was a coincidence.

  He thought back to the conversation he’d had with Astrid. She’d tried to cover up how upset she was, but he could tell the women’s situation got to her. Luke had to nail Kraus for Astrid’s sake.

  Christ.

  The woman had him so twisted up that he couldn’t even remember the main goal of his mission. He downed the rest of the whiskey.

  He wasn’t doing this job to please a woman. He was doing it for Donovan. He needed to remember that. His dick needed to remember that.

  The problem was, he couldn’t stop thinking about Astrid. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since he last saw her, and he already missed her. And it wasn’t just the physical aspect. He missed their verbal sparring. Her quick mind forced him to up his game. He raked his fingers through his hair.

  The only way he’d navigate this without losing his mind was to come up with a way to avenge Donovan while protecting Astrid. He wasn’t deluding himself into thinking there would be a happily ever after for him, but when the shit finally came down, she needed to be spared as much hurt as he could manage. He owed her that.

  He turned from the view and walked back to the whiskey bottle. It would take more than one glass of the amber liquid to get to sleep tonight.

  A knock on the door made him pause as he was about to pour. He put the bottle down and reached for his gun. The doorman was not supposed to let anyone up without notifying Luke first. He undid the weapon’s safety and placed himself to the side of the door frame. A quick dart-and-look through the peephole showed him his visitor was no threat. To his sanity maybe, but hopefully she wouldn’t shoot him. He opened the door. “This is a pleasant surprise.” He kept his tone neutral.

  Astrid strode in. Her eyebrows shot up when she noticed the gun in his hand. “Paranoid much?”

  “The doorman is supposed to notify me of guests.” He tucked the gun into the back of his pants. “Is he still alive?”

  She tsked. “I didn’t touch your precious doorman. He was in the back looking for an umbrella when I snuck by.”

  “It’s not raining.”

  “I may have told him I left an umbrella in your lobby the other day.” She moved past him. “This is nice. I like the view.” The moon shining through the windows highlighted her glorious hair. Luke’s fingers curled as he remembered running them through the silky strands.

  “Are you here for a reason?” His voice came out gruffer than he’d intended.

  She turned around, her eyes wide with pretend innocence. “Can’t a girl visit her…lover without an ulterior motive?” On the word lover she blushed, and his groin tightened. Astrid was an enigma. Would she ever trust him enough for him to figure out who she really was?

  He put the thought out of his mind immediately. Their relationship was short term. There would be no figuring out. “A different girl maybe. With you, there’s always a hidden agenda.” Hurt flashed briefly in her eyes before she blinked and looked away.

  He felt like scum.

  She turned her back to him, once again looking out the windows. “Yeah, you’re right.” Her shoulders slumped. The gesture of defeat made him feel even lower. Astrid pushed a curl of hair behind her ear. She had a new tattoo on the back of her hand, but he couldn’t make out the design. “We need to talk,” she said.

  Luke sighed. Those were his least favorite
words. He walked back to the still-open bottle and finished pouring his drink. “Can I get you one?”

  “Sure.”

  He retrieved another glass and poured her drink. As he handed it to her, her fingers briefly touched his. A great calm flooded his senses. It startled him to the point of fumbling the glass. Astrid’s quick reflexes saved it from dropping to the floor.

  What the hell was that? Some sort of psychic connection? To hide his discomfort, he gestured toward the pair of brown leather couches in front of the flat-screen TV. “Sit?” He didn’t wait for her answer before heading over.

  She sat down across from him, looking down at the drink she was cradling in both hands. “This is going to sound very crazy.” She took a sip of whiskey and looked out the windows again. He admired her profile. She was beautiful, but what made her irresistible was the incredible inner strength she possessed.

  “Try me,” he said gently. His phone rang, and he fished it out of his pocket. Kraus’s name showed up on the display. He’d deal with that lowlife later. He hit Ignore and threw the phone on the table. “Sorry about that. Just business. It can wait.”

  She threw him a weak smile and took another drink. Squaring her shoulders, she held out her left hand. He looked down at the new tattoo, admiring the intricate ink shaped like a large V with the tip curved toward her little finger. “So, this happens when someone in my culture is handfasted—or engaged, I guess you’d call it.”

  The bolt of jealousy striking his chest rendered him speechless. She’d gotten engaged.

  Fuck that.

  He stood. And then paced, his anger a tangible thing between them. He had to distance himself from her. He walked over to the kitchen area again and held on to the counter.

  Three days ago, she’d fucked him in the shower like he was the only man in the world for her. And then she got engaged to someone else? She’d even stopped off to celebrate the event with some kind of traditional Scandinavian tattoo?

  He ran a palm across his face. She must have been seeing this guy while she was fucking Luke. “Who?” he forced out between clenched jaws.

  She frowned. “What?”

  “Who the fuck are you engaged to? Ulf?” He turned around to face her and lowered his voice to a growl. “I knew that asswipe was trouble.” He walked toward her. “Does he know how good I make you feel in bed?” He clenched his fists to keep from reaching out for her. To haul her up against him and show her who she should be with.

  “Holy Mother of Valkyries.” She put the glass down on the coffee table and shoved her hair away from her face. “I’m not handfasted to Ulf.”

  “Then who?”

  She stood, her mane of blond hair cascading down her back, her green eyes blazing. “You,” she shouted. “I’m handfasted to you.”

  Luke completely deflated. His knees buckled, and he had to grab the back of the couch to keep from hitting the floor. “What? How?” he gasped.

  Astrid cursed under her breath. “Sit down,” she ordered. He sank back down on the couch. It was apparently her turn to pace. “I knew this was going to be impossible to explain,” she muttered. She stopped suddenly and took a deep breath. “When one of us—when one of my people—meets the person they are destined to be with, this freaking tattoo shows up on the back of the hand. Eventually, it will work its way up the arm to meet the serpent head.”

  His brain was trying to switch to a channel that would help him understand what she was saying. “When did you get this new tattoo?” He cringed at the stupid question, but being engaged without realizing it was a shock. The fact that he’d even been able to form proper words was a fucking miracle.

  “I didn’t get the tattoo. The lines appear automatically.” She sunk down on the couch across from him again. “Look, this is weird. I get that.” Her eyes pleaded with him. “But if you think about it, it’s not that much weirder than human wolverine hybrids.”

  The creatures they’d fought he could deal with. Those were nothing but genetically manipulated freaks. A self-generating engagement tattoo was way worse. “How do you know I’m the guy and not one of the dudes you live with?”

  She jerked back, hurt flashing in her eyes again. “Because I’m not sleeping with any of them.” As much as he felt like a jerk—again—her words released some of the tension in his chest. And that was just beyond fucked up. Astrid stood. “This was a bad idea. I should leave.”

  Luke leaned forward and grabbed her wrist. That same eerie calm flooded through him. He pulled her down next to him. “Don’t go.” He looked into her eyes. The feral creature he’d seen peeking out from behind her gaze before was back. This time, it took its time looking him over before Astrid blinked and it was gone. Somehow the encounter didn’t disturb him. It was just another one of the many facets that made up Astrid. “I reacted badly, but this is a bit of a shock. I wasn’t planning on getting engaged.”

  She pulled her hand back, a bitter smile on her lips. “Yeah, I get that.” She studied her fingernails. “This is not exactly what I planned for either, but there’s nothing I can do about it. When it happens, you can’t stop it.”

  Okay, that made no sense. “Do you want to stop it?” And that question made even less sense.

  Startled, she looked up. “What are you asking?”

  Fuck if he knew, but his addled brain kept on trekking in the same direction. “Do you want to be with me?”

  Lines appeared between her eyes as she looked at him. “I don’t know. Do you want to be with me?”

  Hell yes, but that wasn’t a choice. He grabbed her hand. “I can’t guarantee any kind of stability or offer any long-term commitment.” She tried to pull her hand back, but he held on. “But yes, there is no one I want to be with as much as I want to be with you.” Luke gazed into her eyes again, trying to convey all the things he didn’t have the right to say. “I can’t get enough of you. Astrid, I crave you when you’re not next to me.”

  Her breath hitched, and the hand he was holding clenched around his fingers. With her other hand, she traced his jaw. Instead of the calming effect from before, her fingers left a blazing hot trail on his skin. He groaned, which made her smile. “I can’t get enough of you either,” she whispered.

  Luke grabbed her roaming hand and brought both to his chest. She fell forward, and he leaned in to claim her lips. With a soft sigh, she parted hers and he traced the bottom part of her mouth with his tongue. She groaned, sinking into the kiss, but he held back and continued exploring her lips with soft licks and nips. She tasted like honey and home.

  Astrid moaned and tugged on her hands, but he held on. This was his show. After the tumult she’d put him through, he needed to be in control. He tortured her for a few moments longer. Not until she growled and caught his lip between her teeth did he deepen the kiss. She met him thrust for thrust, and he let go of her hands to bury his fingers in her hair. The strands were as soft as he remembered. He fucking loved her hair. Pushing it back from her face, he positioned her head at a better angle and took complete control.

  She was his now. She’d said so. This handfasting thing meant she belonged to him, and he wanted—needed—her to show him it was true.

  Without removing his lips from hers, Luke pushed her back until she was lying on the couch. He trapped her beneath him, using the weight of his body to immobilize her. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to prove, just knew he needed to be the one who took the lead, needed his body to touch all of hers.

  Astrid freed her hands from where they’d been trapped between them. One palmed the back of his neck, while the other traveled lower and grabbed just below his ass. Her fingers dug into his inner thigh as she pulled on his leg so that his dick pressed right at the junction of her thighs. He came close to shooting his load early when her softness pushed against his hard ridge.

  Luke growled, capturing both her hands in his again and pushing them up above her hea
d. “My rules,” he rasped in her ear and trailed his tongue down her neck to just above her collarbone.

  She sighed, her whole body sinking back into the couch. He shifted her wrists to his left hand and used the right to unbutton her black cotton shirt. As each button popped open, revealing more delicious skin, he trailed his tongue lower.

  Her bra was a front-closure, praise the powers, and he released her breasts so he could taste them too. Her golden skin was warm to the touch, and he took his time sucking and biting each areola. Astrid writhed beneath him.

  “Let me touch you,” she whimpered.

  He didn’t bother answering, just tightened his grip on her wrists and used his other hand to unbutton her jeans. Luke struggled with the zipper but was finally able to slip his hand inside her panties. She inhaled sharply as his fingers found her wet folds. He pushed his finger deeper while continuing his tongue’s worship of her breasts. Her legs moved apart, and a moan escaped her lips.

  Luke set a steady rhythm, matching what his fingers did with kisses and nips on her nipples. He caught one of them between his teeth while he curled his fingers inside her, pressing down on her mound with the heel of his hand.

  Astrid shattered beneath him. She shouted his name—his first name—and her core clenched around his fingers. He felt ridiculously pleased.

  She went limp and he scooped her up in his arms, carrying her to his bed. She put one hand behind his neck while her head fell against his shoulder. “Dang, Luke, you have very talented hands.” Her voice was several octaves deeper than usual.

  He chuckled and put her down on top of his covers. “We’re not done yet. That was just the appetizer,” he whispered against her ear, taking great delight in how she shuddered when his breath caressed her skin. He quickly shucked his clothes. Astrid leaned back on her elbows, watching him while he undressed. She bit her lower lip. It was sexy as hell, and Luke’s already rod-straight shaft hardened even more. “Lose the clothes,” he ordered.

  She gave him a coy look, but shrugged out of the shirt and bra. He pulled off her boots and tugged on her jeans. She wiggled her hips to help him. As she lay naked on his bed, he paused to admire her strong body. She had the muscular definition of a fighter, a warrior, but with curves in all the right places. “Beautiful,” he whispered.