by Angela Foxxe
Igor turned around to inspect the wound on his haunch and saw that the bleeding had stopped. He ambled around to the front of the house, in case the one that had broken in was just a distraction. He wasn’t disappointed. The front door had been broken down and deep gouges had marred the wood around the frame. He charged on in and let out a roar as he burst through the door.
He looked towards the stairs and saw the tall, lanky form of Hans carrying the catatonic Rachel in his arms. “Oh. don’t gape like that, you huge oaf,” Hans sneered. “We’ll take good care of her. At least with us, she’ll survive the birth of this abomination, and live happily ever after. Well, not really. Mother knows about her. She wants her to be with us. The cub, well, we’ll probably feed it to our pups to make them big and strong. Who knows, she might just survive having her first litter?”
Igor strode slowly towards the stairs. He did not want to risk Hans dropping her and causing her to lose the baby, or worse, kill her outright. He rumbled deep in his chest as he placed one of his massive paws on the first step.
“Ah, I don’t think so.” Hans gave a silent signal to two massive dire wolves that had been hiding in the shadows underneath the stair well. “She’s ours now and there really isn’t much you can do about it.”
Igor roared in pain as he felt the fangs from one of the massive dire wolves tear through his left hamstring, causing him to collapse on the floor. He swiped ineffectually at the black canines as they bit into his flesh, ripping gobs of it and devouring it as he lay writhing on the floor bellowing in agony.
“Now, you two don’t kill him. We want him alive to tell Valemon what happened to his precious pet.” Hans ceased the carnage with his smooth voice and wrinkled his nose with distaste as blood pooled around the injured bear.
The two dire wolves ceased their attack on the injured Igor and left him splayed on the floor near the stairs. The large bear breathed heavily to stave off the dizziness due to the amount of blood he had lost. He knew if he shifted back to human, he would surely die. His only chance for survival was to stay as a bear until Valemon returned.
Hans looked down at the heavily pregnant Rachel. “Looks like she has about a week left,” he said to his two canine relatives. “We can’t transform her just yet, though. Come on, we need to get going. We can at least try to pull her out of whatever state she’s in and get some food into her. She looks half dead.”
The two wolves, dripping with Igor’s blood, followed Hans out of the broken door as he carried Rachel towards the road leading to the northern half of the Iron Woods.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Valemon trudged through the dense woods towards the towering stone in the distance. The white peaks of the mountains graced the horizon as the sun gleamed off them. Sweat began to roll off Valemon’s brow and into his blue eyes, stinging them badly. The black flies swarmed around him in dense clouds, knowing he was the only carrier of fresh blood for miles around.
The smell of pine filled his nostrils as he pushed his way through the dense old growth forest. With each step he took, pain shot through his wounded feet, but he kept going. The rune stone wasn’t that far off, maybe another 100 yards or so, but the thick forest made it very slow going. He pushed through the dense brush, feeling the pine bushes scrape against his skin. He heard a rustling in the bush off to his right and he tensed, expecting one of the Ironwood Clan to burst through at any moment. He froze and crouched down in the bush, looking around for any dire wolves that might be looking for him. His path wasn’t that difficult to find, and his feet probably stank like blood, giving them even more of a trail to follow.
The cacophonous sound of crows and ravens fighting over territory suddenly filled his ears and a large male deer daintily stepped out of the rustling bush. His antlers had at least sixteen points, if not more, denoting his age and rank within the forest, and his tawny coat glistened in the dappled sun. The deer’s nose twitched nervously as he smelled Valemon’s presence and he bounced away.
Valemon let out a sigh of relief, knowing that the mysterious rustling was just a deer. He stood up and wiped the sweat off his brow with his sleeve and continued walking through the dense vegetation. He swatted at the hordes of black flies that swarmed him, taking bites out of his exposed flesh and feasting upon his blood. He then watched them fall down to the ground, dead, due to the fact that his shifter blood wasn’t compatible with their digestion.
He saw the rough granite surface of the rune stone through the dense foliage. He noted there was a small clearing around it, and that the large deer had made a path directly to it. He followed the path that the large buck had created to the base of the tall rune stone.
The stone was larger than the ones that had dotted the landscape across Norway, chronicling the history of the ancient people who once ruled this land. Most of them were shattered during the time of Olaf the Mad and his attempt at forcibly converting the country to Christianity, but thankfully, his followers missed this one. You would think that this stone would have been the first he would destroy.
Valemon went through memories of the tales he had been told as a child, about how his family had been deposed by the Mad King. He recalled his father saying that he was always accompanied by a beautiful woman with raven black hair and a grey complexion. She wasn’t his wife but he wasn’t known for his fidelity. He wondered why Angrboda would want to erase the old religion. Luckily, it didn’t work and the people mostly just paid lip service.
He looked at the runic inscriptions on the bright white granite. They were weather-worn and difficult to read, but he was capable of making out a few of the words.
“Here marks the end of the site of the truce between the Bear Clan and the Ironwood Clan, negotiated and overseen by the Falcon Clan of the Aerie.” Further down the stone there were more markings. “Traveled south from the lone peak.” He held his hand to his forehead to block out the bright sun and oriented himself north. He saw a looming mountain in the distance and sighed sadly. It was too far. There was no way he could get there on foot before Rachel gave birth. He had to try, though. Who knows, a member of the Falcon Clan might spot him before he even arrived.
Valemon began the slow, painful journey to the lone mountain peak. Hopefully, there would be other clues along the way, because it was a rather large mountain and trying to find the elusive tribe could take years. He didn’t even have a week, let alone years. He began to regret his foolish plan, but had to see it through.
He looked up and saw the dark form of a bird circling high up on the thermals that rose from the rocky land in the distance. He couldn’t make out what species it was, so he kept on trudging. Luckily, the rune stone was on the edge of the thick woods. So it was clear walking across grassy scrub to the foot of the mountain.
He focused on where the bird was circling, hoping it was one of the Falcon Clan showing him where to go. It could also be a raven but it looked like it was in the general direction that he wanted to go.
Valemon swatted off more of the irritating black flies as he shifted his backpack. He was beginning to get hungry and needed a rest. He had been on his feet since early dawn. From where the sun was in the sky, it must be around noon already.
He stopped after a while and sat down on a rock to grab a protein bar from his backpack, and a bottle of water. He chugged down the lukewarm liquid and devoured the meager chocolate flavored bar in no time. As he was resting, he heard a low growl rumble close by the area he’d chosen to sit down.
He stood up and looked around and saw two enormous, black dire wolves pacing around, waiting for the word to pounce from their leader, who was nowhere to be found. Valemon glared at the two wolves and started concentrating on shifting. Suddenly there was a cloud of green smoke and the voluptuous form of Angrboda stood before him.
“Oh, don’t even think about that,” she purred as her long black hair stirred in the breeze. Her grey skin looked sickly in the bright late spring sun. “Why are you going towards that mountain?” she asked, arching
an elegant black eyebrow. “Could it be the elusive Aerie?”
Valemon said nothing as he sat there, being eyed by the two six foot tall canines. He put his pack down in case they jumped him. At least he wouldn’t tear the straps when he shifted into his bear form.
“Playing the strong quiet type?” Angrboda walked up to him and ran a finger down his sweat soaked shirt. “You know, I could tell you where it is, for a price.”
“Not interested,” Valemon stated.
“Oh, you think I want the human girl? You really think I’m that foolish? I found out about her and she’s going to be well taken care of, to the point where she won’t even want you anymore,” Angrboda said in a silken voice.
“What did you do to her?” Valemon spat, trying to keep his rage contained. He knew if he outright attacked Angrboda, he was as good as dead.
“I didn’t do anything to her. Actually, she won’t be harmed at all. Not until we turn her and rip that whelp of yours from her belly so Fenrir can place his own.” She smirked as she told Valemon the news. “I can take you to the Aerie if you wish; it isn’t like you can do anything to prevent what will happen to her. It will be a waste of your time and hers. Looks like your line finally dies out,” She said triumphantly.
“Look, just because my ancestor didn’t want to be your consort, doesn’t mean you can keep making my life hell,” Valemon retorted.
“What can I say? I have a very long memory.” Angrboda purred as she stared appreciatively at Valemon’s virile form. “Anyway, as I said, I’ll take you to the Aerie for a price. Your human pet has been spirited to a very safe location and won’t be harmed. She is more use to us alive than dead, so you have that.”
Valemon grunted. He had a suspicion that Angrboda also needed the help of the Falcon Clan to keep Rachel alive during the birth. He decided to hedge his bets on that assumption and see if he could use it to get her back. “What’s the price?”
Angrboda smirked. “You know when I said I wanted the firstborn of your line? I really didn’t mean the ones you bred on another woman, but I took what I was offered. They made great treats for my clan.”
Valemon’s eyes widened as the realization dawned on him and the two dire wolves gave each other a canine equivalent of a smile as they trotted off to the nearby forest. Angrboda got closer to him and looked him in the eye. “You know what I want, Valemon,” she whispered as she moved her full lips down his neck, causing his skin to tighten and his hair to stand on end.
He felt a fog overtake his brain and couldn’t shake it off. His consciousness was being pushed away into the dark recesses of his animal brain, but he wasn’t shifting into his bear form. He felt her cold hand pressed against his sweaty shirt as her lips sent shivers down his spine. “Why don’t you call on Loki, you two had a thing for quite some time.”
“Oh, he’s off playing with a mortal right now and doesn’t have time for little ol’ me, a woman has needs and at least I have a way to get them met,” Angrboda replied as she moved her corpse-like hand down to Valemon’s belt. “If you give me what I want, I’ll let you keep the whelp from the girl. She has to stay with us, though. Humans that can carry our special type of children are very rare indeed. The fresh blood is so needed. Fenrir will be so happy to have a new mate, I love spoiling my children, and I really do.”
Valemon’s mind was trapped by Angrboda’s spell. He couldn’t break free as he felt his body respond to her cold touch. His large cock stirred in his pants as he felt her caress him through his damp clothing. He couldn’t even muster a sound of protest as her cold lips caressed his sensitive earlobe.
Angrboda moved down and she took each button of his white shirt in her mouth and bit them off, one by one. The massive man was enthralled and couldn’t push off the unwanted advance. She pushed his shirt off his broad shoulders, revealing his massively muscular chest, covered with silver hair. “My you’re a big one,” she said appreciatively. “You put your namesake to shame, let me tell you.”
Valemon trembled as the enchantment kept him rooted firmly in place. Angrboda’s chill hand caused his flesh to crawl as she caressed his hairy chest. She then grabbed his head and proceeded to fiercely kiss him. His mind silently screamed with revulsion as he stood there, unable to resist the lustful onslaught. Her cold fingers laced themselves in his shoulder length silver hair and pulled tightly as she kissed him, but because of the enchantment he was not able to wince in pain, just take it.
Angrboda broke the kiss and stared at the broken, enchanted Valemon with lustful triumph. “You’re much easier to take control of than your namesake, too.” She reached for Valemon’s silver belt buckle and undid his black leather belt. She tugged his black trousers and boxers down and his large, erect manhood sprung free. “You are much bigger than your predecessor,” she said, appreciatively. “It’s almost like you were touched by Freyr himself.” She sighed as she gently took the hot shaft in her cold dead hands and stroked it gently. Valemon trembled with suppressed fury as he was being violated by the Witch of the Ironwood Clan.
Angrboda felt Valemon shake under her ministrations, and felt her mental control over him slip slightly due to the sheer rage he was feeling. She sent more energy through her hand into his body to create a psychic web over his mind to keep him complacent while she had her way with him. She released his large member and placed her hand back onto his chest and gave a little shove. “Now, lay down my pet. You’re going to give me the child I’ve been wanting for centuries. If you don’t fight, you just might enjoy it.”
Valemon followed the command and lay down on the soft mountain scrub. His mind was shrieking now, he did not want to do this and there was absolutely nothing that could be done to prevent it. The horror and shame that was coursing through him at that very moment was indescribable. He wanted nothing more than to push this witch off him and crush her with his bare hands.
Angrboda peeled off her leather top and bottoms, revealing her voluptuous body. Large, perky breasts swayed in the afternoon sun, her legs were long and muscular, and her skin was as grey as a corpse. She walked over to Valemon’s head and straddled him. He looked up and saw her dripping wet pussy, framed in coarse black hair, hovering over his mouth waiting to be devoured. “Now, be a good boy and lick me,” She commanded, as he felt a wrench in his brain forcing him to do her bidding. His tongue snaked out on its own volition and gently bathed her cold, wet womanhood in response to her command. He wanted to vomit. The taste was horrific and the feeling of disgust and self-loathing crested once more in his chest.
“Mmmm,” Angrboda moaned. “Keep going, yes, that’s right.” The feeling of his soft, hot tongue on her pussy added to the powerful feeling she had by keeping the giant man under her explicit control. She felt her first orgasm begin to crest deep within her belly.
Suddenly, a shriek rang through the air as a flurry of feathers and talons assaulted Angrboda’s fair face as a falcon dive-bombed her from above. She fell to the ground next to the naked, prone Valemon as the falcon landed on a nearby boulder. He felt the fog that enveloped his brain lift and he sat up looking at the wounded goddess.
Blood didn’t flow from the gashes on her beautiful face, black liquid oozed from them. She looked at the falcon and hissed angrily at it. “How dare you!” she screamed as she began to rise from the grass.
The falcon shimmered and in its place stood a tall blonde woman dressed in chain mail and a cloak made from falcon feathers. Around her long, alabaster neck she wore a necklace of gold and chunks of amber the size of a child’s fist. Her long blonde hair was plaited in a single braid low on her skull and she held a sword in her right hand.
“Angrboda,” she announced. “You must cease this at once. You have repeatedly violated the truce between the Ironwood Clan and the Bear Clan. I am here to finally set things right once and for all,” the mysterious woman announced.
“Freyja,” Angrboda sneered. “Why do you always have to meddle in my affairs?”
“Because you usual
ly go too far,” Freyja said as she daintily stepped down from her place on top of the boulder. “I’ve been watching you for quite some time and leaving you to your little game with my brother’s progeny. We didn’t appreciate it when it began, but we have a policy of not stepping into the affairs of mortals anymore, not even when they are our descendents.”
Valemon looked for his clothing while the two goddesses verbally sparred. “Valemon,” Freyja called out. “You won’t have any need for those.” With that he felt his bones shift and his mass and hair grow. He cried out as the agony of the transformation seared through his body. After the transformation, he sat down on the grass, shooting Freyja a sullen glare.
“Oh, stop. This is the fastest way to get to where your mate is,” Freyja chided. “Now for you, Angrboda, we tried to burn you three times and that didn’t work, Loki even took your heart and ate it, and you’re still here. Angrboda, Gullevig, and the part of me I have tried to excise time and time again. We really need to do away with you once and for all.”
“Freyja, dear sister, please listen to me,” Angrboda pleaded as she scrambled backwards from the angry goddess. “I promise I won’t...”
“Enough!” Freyja barked. “You will be imprisoned with your son Fenrir until Ragnarok. You will not be able to leave the radius in which he paces. You bring mortal women for him to ravage against their will to whelp unholy abominations upon this land. For that alone, I should have you executed, but Loki has pled your case and was quite convincing. The fact that you almost raped a man just put the last nail in your funeral boat. There is so much that I have let slide while I was away that I need to make right and I’m starting with you.”
Angrboda stood up shaking with fury. “How dare you!” she shrieked. “I have done nothing but kept the legacy of the old gods alive!”
“No, you haven’t. Your wolves slink in the shadows, picking off the weak mortals one by one. You have let the slight of my nephew’s rebuke of your affections completely consume you. Most women move on. You would figure someone of your longevity would have done the same,” Freyja chided the furious woman.
