by Nina Mason
What in the name of God was he turning into?
From his head, horns sprouted. His nose and mouth became a long, pointed snout. Huge bat-like wings burst from his shoulder blades.
Bloody hell in a hand basket. Queen Morgan had transformed Axel into a dragon. She’d also overplayed her hand. Jenna swung onto his back and dug in her heels.
“Fly, Axel. Fly!”
Rather than take wing, the dragon said while spewing fire, “If I do as you say, I will not be free. We must wait until the cock crows, like we planned.”
Disappointment stung her heart like the lash of her father’s belt. He was right. In her zeal, she’d forgotten she must wait until he became something hot to be cooled in the well. His bonds would not be broken until he was himself again and wrapped in her cloak.
Assuming, of course, the story she’d read was correct.
The woods all around them were still burning, and the trees were now wailing in pain. Jenna felt dizzy, sweaty, exhausted, and disoriented. It seemed as if she’d been at this for hours, but, if dawn was approaching, she couldn’t tell through the thick ceiling of black smoke covering the glen. Some of the plumes had formed into banshee-like spirits that were rushing at her, shrieking and cackling.
Though quaking with terror, Jenna only clung tighter to Axel’s dragon neck. She could not allow herself to be daunted by Queen Morgan’s tricks.
“Fee-faw.”
Axel shrank in size and sprouted bristles, a flat snout, and sharp tusks. He was a wild boar—a creature she’d always found incredibly fearsome. When she was a girl, a boar had killed one of her neighbors by inflicting a gruesome wound to his gut. She shuddered at the memory, but did not let go. In those tiny piggy eyes, she still saw her good-hearted knight looking back at her.
The wind kicked up and the wailing grew louder as the smoke banshees turned into demons with the faces of William and her father. “You are worthless,” they cried as they flew at her. “Worthless and weak.”
The one that looked like her ex jumped on her back and tried to pull her off Axel. “He doesn’t love you. Nobody loves you, because you’re unlovable.”
A harrowing ache welled up inside her. She didn’t want to believe the demons, but part of her did. Tears pricked her eyes, and her lower lip began to tremble. Taking a breath, she told herself not to listen. Morgan was preying on her fears. She must not let self-doubt dilute her powers. Closing her eyes, she whispered her mother’s prayer to Freya.
Blowing still harder, the wind howled through the trees, shaking their branches. Lightning flashed across the sky. The air grew alive with electricity. Static and eeriness made Jenna’s hair stand on end. She clung to her beloved boar. He’d said very little throughout this ordeal. Was he angry with her for trying to free him?
Before she could give the matter more consideration, Morgan pointed her wand at them. “Fee-faw.”
Jenna’s heart clutched as sparks fountained once more from the queen’s wand. Good God. What now?
Thunder boomed overhead as Axel began to transform once more. He got smaller, harder, and hotter. A lightning bolt shot out of the sky, splitting the tree she’d been hiding behind in a shower of sparks. The clouds opened, pelting Jenna’s back with hard, cold rain. Under her, Axel had become a red-hot sword.
Using her cloak to shield her hands from the heat, she grabbed the hilt and got to her feet. The faeries were all around her, moving in. All were as soaked as she was and so scantily dressed they might as well have been naked. Many held wands, which were aimed at her.
Heart pounding, she pivoted where she stood, holding the red-hot sword out in front of her. Through her cloak, the heat burned her hands, which still buzzed with energy.
“Get back!” She thrust the glaive to hold off the encroaching horde. “I love him and will do everything in my power to keep him from being sacrificed.”
She needed to get the sword to the well. Unfortunately, the way was blocked by faeries. She jabbed the sword at them. They backed up a few feet, but did not disperse.
“Raise me to the sky,” the sword said in Axel’s voice.
Though afraid the throng would advance on her if she did as he asked, she summoned the strength and courage to point the sword toward the heavens. As another jagged bolt of lightning lit up the sky, Axel called out,
“Great Thor, God of Thunder,
Lend me the might of Mjölnir,
Make me as strong and brave as a bear,
Let my sword strike like lightning,
Destroying any who would keep me in chains.”
As soon as Axel finished the invocation, the sky boomed with thunder. A jagged bolt of lightning struck the tip of the sword, causing an explosion of blinding white light. Sparks joined the rain showering down on Jenna, who felt empowered by the thunderbolt’s energy. The sword flew out of her hands, over the heads of the faeries, and into the well.
Frozen and trembling, Jenna tried to figure out what to do next. The faeries still blocked her path to the well. When another thunderbolt cracked down from the clouds and struck the spot where they stood, the faeries scattered amidst screams of terror.
Jenna raced to the edge of the well. Peering over, she saw Axel’s Nordic blue eyes looking up at her. He was wet, naked, disheveled, and the most beautiful sight she’d ever beheld. She stretched out her hand to help him out, unsure she had the strength. He reached for her, too, but he was too far away.
As electrical arcs connected their fingertips, he began to rise. When he landed on his feet beside her on the grass, she saw with elation that his torque was gone.
Removing her cloak, she wrapped it around his broad shoulders and pressed a kiss to his whiskered cheek.
“You have caught yourself a good husband,” a deep male voice with a Scandinavian accent said behind her.
Turning to see who had spoken, she got a shock. There stood a bearded giant in a chariot pulled by two goats. He had long blond hair, eyes as blue as Axel’s, and held a two-headed hammer as big as she was. A tunic cinched at the waist with a wide leather belt inscribed with a symbol she knew to be Thurisaz, the rune of Thor, covered his powerful, broad-shouldered build.
“You exist.” She was gobsmacked.
“I do.” A grin warmed the thunder god’s expression and crinkled his eyes. “As you see. But, like the other creatures of the hidden realm, gods can only cross over when the vale grows thin.”
“Thank you, Thor.” Axel stepped forward.
“There is no need for thanks,” Thor said. “Just love and look after each other the way Sif and I do.”
“Sif is Thor’s wife,” Axel told Jenna, right in assuming she didn’t know.
As the chariot took off toward the sky, the rain stopped abruptly. Jenna looked around. The faeries were gone, the fire was out, and except for the smoking trunk of the tree hit by the thunderbolt, she saw no evidence of damage. Above them, the clouds had parted to reveal the pale gray of dawn. She’d succeeded. Axel was hers now—and free.
Reaching up, she traced the lines of his face. With his sandy hair, scruffy beard, and clear blue eyes, he looked like a Viking warrior. There was a scar under his chin she’d never noticed before. As she ran her finger over it, she asked, “What did this?”
“An English sword.”
Rising on her toes, she pressed a kiss to the scar. As he drew back to look at her, the tenderness in his gaze melted her heart.
“You are the bravest woman I have ever known.” He pushed back her hair. “And the most beautiful.”
While the compliment pleased her, it didn’t ring true. “I think we both know Queen Morgan is far more beautiful than I am.”
“Hush.” He pressed his index finger against her lips. “Her beauty is only on the surface. Yours radiates from your center. She is naught but a tyrant, while you are a skjaldmær.”
She furrowed her brow. “What’s that?”
“A shieldmaiden.” He must have sensed that she still didn’t understand what he was
talking about because he quickly added, “A warrior woman of my age. Like Lagertha, who fought with the courage of a man with her hair loose over her shoulders, to the marvel of all who witnessed her matchless deeds.”
Before she could say anything in response, he moved his hand around to her nape and cradled the back of her head. As he pulled her mouth against his, a quiver rippled through her. Being with him was magical. A faerytale brought to life.
The eerie hoot of an owl broke the enchantment. Alarm surging through her bloodstream, Jenna grabbed Axel by the wrist and pulled him toward the carpark. “We need to get away from here before they see us.”
Remembering her bow and arrows, she swerved toward the ash tree where she’d left them. Her heart wrenched when she saw her precious bow crushed beneath the broken trunk.
“Never mind that.” Axel took her arm. “I have another in the cave.”
As he pulled her toward the waterfall, she dug in her heels. “No. It’s too risky. The last time I went in there, I was attacked by one of those owls.”
Axel stepped back, scowled at her, and pulled on his beard. Was he confused by what she’d said or did he disapprove of her visiting his cave without permission?
“Stay here then, and I will go.” He drew his brows together. “I also want to retrieve my horse and my runes.”
When he started toward the cave, she grabbed his arm to stop him. “They’re not in there. I relocated Odin to a farm, where he’s being well looked after, and your runes are in my car.”
He stood there for several moments, regarding her with a blank expression, before a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “You are as resourceful as you are beautiful and brave, but I still need my bow. Do you not think it worth the risk to arm ourselves?”
The owl hooted again, sending a chill through her. “Yes, but please be quick about it.”
Axel was gone and back within a few minutes, during which he’d gotten dressed in his usual saffron tunic, trews, and boots. There was a bow slung over his shoulder, a quiver of arrows on his back, and a pistol tucked into his belt.
Now, he definitely looked like a warrior on his way to do battle.
“Where’d you get the gun?” she asked as he approached the spot where she waited on the footpath.
“This one was a gift from Sir Leith.”
There wasn’t time to hear the story, so she didn’t ask for the details. As they made their way to the carpark, an owl flew over them. Quick as a wink, Axel had his bow in hand. Jenna watched, impressed, as he set the arrow. She’d never seen anyone move so fast and, at the same time, with such grace and decisiveness. When the zinging barb found its mark, the owl screeched and plummeted to the ground.
Jenna, atremble on rubber legs, seized Axel’s arm and broke into a run, pulling him along. The chances were good the owl he’d killed wasn’t patrolling the glen alone.
By the time they reached the car, she was out of breath. Jumping in, she started the engine with a shaking hand. The car was moving before she realized Axel was still standing beside the passenger door. She stomped on the brake and lowered the window. “Come on. We have to get out of here.”
His face appeared in the frame of the open window, lips and eyebrows squeezed tightly together. Gaze darting around the car’s interior, he stammered, “I have n-never ridden in one of t-these before.”
Tilting her head, she offered him an understanding smile. She’d forgotten for a moment he was from the fourteenth century. “It’s similar to a carriage—only the horses are under the bonnet. Now, get in before the owls see us. If they follow us to the cottage, we’ll have no place to hide.”
His eyes narrowed. “What cottage do you mean?”
“I’ve been staying in an abandoned crofter’s cottage on the road to Cromarty. It’s located a ways from the main road and nestled between two rises, so it’s fairly well hidden. In fact, someone would have to really search to find it—and the owls haven’t so far, even though they’ve flown over several times.”
“It sounds like a good place to work out our next move.”
“That’s exactly what I thought.” It also would be a good place for the passionate reunion she hoped he was as eager for as was she.
He fumbled with the door handle for a moment before he finally got it open. She took the bow and quiver from him and stowed them in the back before helping him with the seatbelt. Then, grinning at her prize, she said, “Welcome to the modern world, baby.”
Chapter 21
As the car sped along the highway, Axel felt like a low-flying gyrfalcon. All the while, he kept the window down, his eyes peeled for owls, and one hand on the gun in his belt. Regular bullets might not fell a vampire, but the ones he had loaded in the pistol’s chamber would. He had carved them from ash before engraving each with a deadly chain of runes.
“When we get to the cottage, I will teach you the fith-fath,” he said, gaze lifted to the brightening sky.
“The spell Morgan used to change your form?”
“Aye. It’s an ancient shape-shifting spell. I thought we could turn ourselves into birds and fly to Callanish.”
“The stone circle on Lewis? What’s there?”
“The portal into Brocaliande.”
She looked his way. “What’s Brocaliande?”
He flicked a glance in her direction. She was scowling at him. “There is much I need to tell you.”
“There’s something I need to tell you, too.”
Biting her lip, she turned back to the road.
His gut tightened. What could she have to disclose? “Tell me now.”
“I’m pregnant.”
Her disclosure was a hammer blow to the top of his head. His whole body stiffened and began to tingle. He could not say what he had expected to hear, only that her announcement stunned him senseless.
His inner shock must have shown on his face because she said, “You don’t look happy about it.”
“It’s not that,” he stammered, which was true. Under normal circumstances, he would have been thrilled by her news, but these were not normal circumstances.
“Then what? You look like I just kicked you in the balls, which is not exactly the reaction I was hoping for.”
Tearing his gaze from the sky, he turned to her with a consoling smile and put a hand on her thigh. “I am happy about the baby, Jenna. Truly. I love you and want us to make our vows permanent and have many children together. It is merely that…well, your condition complicates matters. Since you cannot shift with a child in your womb, we must travel to the islands in our present forms, which will increase both the time it takes to get there and our risk of discovery.”
Her questioning gaze turned his way. “But you’re happy about the baby? Honestly?”
“Aye.” He gave her another smile and squeezed her leg. “Very happy.”
She pulled off the main road and followed a dirt path for some ways before parking the car behind a boulder.
Before climbing out, he retrieved his bow and arrow from behind the seat and handed them to her. “Take these with you inside. I am going to hide the car from overflying creatures before joining you.”
Once she’d left him, he gathered up all the branches he could find and arranged them over the car in a way that would look like a lean-to from the air. He worked hurriedly, not wishing to be away from her a moment longer than absolutely necessary.
He had meant it when he called her a shieldmaiden. What she’d done for him tonight took incredible courage, and he wanted to show his gratitude. He just hoped she had no reservations about making love in her present condition. His centuries in Avalon had removed any concerns he might once have had about sex during pregnancy. Many were the times he had bedded Morgan when she was ready to burst—with no greater consequence than the onset of labor, which was no doubt her goal when she summoned him.
With a snort, he flung the thought of Morgan away. He was free of her now. Free to live his own life and bed only the woman he chose. And he chos
e Jenna, his perfect partner.
He went into the cottage. To say it was humbler than the one abutting the glen would be a gross understatement. The floor was dirt, the windows were broken, and the roof was falling in. She’d made a bed of blankets in one corner and had lit several candles, but not the fireplace.
Shivering from the cold, he met her gaze. She was perched on the hearth, the only place to sit apart from the floor, wearing the green cloak she’d brought to the glen. His heart swelled with affection. She was the bonniest and most wonderful lass in all nine worlds, and she was his. His handfasted wife and the mother of his child. He had no idea what dangers tomorrow might bring, but for tonight, at least, they were relatively safe and could enjoy their reunion.
Standing, she let the cape fall. To his delight, she wore nothing underneath. While moistening his lips, his gaze swept from her tempting breasts to the alluring auburn triangle between her legs. Eager to touch, he went to her, took the fullness of her breasts in his hands, and bent to kiss her nipples. As he coaxed them into peaks with his lips and tongue, she ran her fingers through his hair.
Moving one hand down her body, he pushed his fingers between her legs, parted her lips, and located her hot button. As he flicked and teased, she sighed and pressed her sex harder against his finger.
“Would you like me to kiss you down here?” He rubbed his finger against the spot he meant. “Or do you find the idea distasteful?”
“I only find it distasteful because I haven’t bathed in a week.”
He laughed. “In my day, women bathed but rarely. And I never found their flavor unpleasant.”
“Axel, I know it sounds terribly silly of me, given how long you’ve been alive, but I’d really rather not hear about your other partners.”
Tickled by her jealousy, he straightened up, took her face between her hands, and brushed back her hair. “They meant nothing to me—and you mean everything.”
“You mean everything to me, too.”
While her words were tender, her gaze radiated heat. Pulling her face to his, he captured her mouth. As he gave her his tongue, he slid a hand down her body and into her dewy curls. He pushed two fingers into her, delighting in her succulent warmth. As their mouths engaged in a sensual dance, he worked his fingers in, out, and around.
