by Kate Pearce
“I was looking for my comportment book. I left it in here last time I visited.” She hated that he expected her to answer to him. Anywhere she wanted to go within their quarters should’ve been above reproach and recrimination.
But as per usual, he asked her to justify herself. Probably just his way of having some control. Perhaps he thought tattling on the warden’s daughter would earn him favor.
His gaze turned to Magnus and then back to her and her cheeks heated. She knew they were stained red with her blush.
“Are you sure?”
“Excuse me?” she squeaked.
“Are you sure you’re here for comportment?” He lifted his chin, almost like a beast scenting for his prey. As if he could smell her lie. “I think you’re here because you’re curious.”
She swallowed and took a step back as he advanced. “About what?”
“About men.”
Mercy shook her head. “I live on a planet full of them. They’re not mysterious.” She refused to acknowledge the thoughts she’d had of Magnus.
“No, you know what I mean.” He started unbuttoning his fatigue jacket.
“What are you doing?” Fear closed around her throat like a fist.
“Giving you an education.”
“My father—”
“—is on Holle.” The look of absolute surety on his face was something she knew she’d see in her nightmares.
Fenris was built well, if slim. But Mercy had no interest in the man before her.
“You’re supposed to protect me,” she reminded him.
And she was proud of herself that her voice didn’t break and she showed no fear.
“I am.”
“From what?”
“From yourself. What if you woke him up? Do you know what that would mean?” He nodded to Magnus.
“Probably the same thing that you’re about to do.” Even for all of the Destroyer’s fierce reputation, there was a part of her that didn’t believe that. Probably the part of her that had dreamed away too many hours thinking about him.
“Better me than him. I’ll marry you.”
Revulsion twisted her guts. “No you won’t.” She shook her head. “My father would kill me first.”
“I will protect you. Give us both what we want.” He moved toward her.
She took another step back. “Fenris, stop this. Stop now and I won’t tell my father anything.”
He looked as if he almost felt sorry for her. “I think we both know I can’t risk that.”
She quickly considered all of her options. Mercy had a panic alarm that would bring the special forces teams running, but they’d all know—all of the men who worked for her father. They’d know she put herself in a situation where she had to be saved. He’d be humiliated. Fenris didn’t understand Odin Lokison as well as he thought he did. Her father would blame her.
The only route to escape was through Fenris.
And then the world as she knew it changed forever.
A siren echoed like the shrieking of a Valkyrie and when it did, Magnus the Destroyer moved.
It wasn’t the slow creaking movement of stiff joints and frigid muscle, the awkward bend of a newborn fawn—it was all power and heat combined with a predatory grace.
She watched in morbid fascination as the killing machine she’d so admired fulfilled its purpose—the ancient war hammer on the wall a decoration, now the mighty weapon of war in all its reclaimed glory in the hands of Magnus the Destroyer.
It crashed into Fenris’s skull and she squeezed her eyes shut as something warm splattered on her cheek.
The logical part of her brain screamed at her to flee, but something else held her frozen. Maybe it was like the survival instinct of all small, weak things that forced her to make herself smaller. As if somehow he wouldn’t see her standing in front of him if only she could be still.
As if somehow he hadn’t been one-hundred percent aware of her running her fingers over his flesh.
At least she didn’t feel like a sex offender anymore.
No, now she felt like the girl who used to be Mercy Odinsdottir because she was sure that in the next ten minutes, that war hammer would be crashing into her skull and she’d be the sob story that pushed her father ahead in the polls for governor.
She gasped when the heat of his arms closed around her like hot metal shackles.
“And now you’re mine,” a voice growled low and deep.
Mercy imagined if that war hammer could talk, it would have a voice just like Magnus the Destroyer.
2
Magnus the Destroyer wasn’t in the habit of taking hostages.
But neither was he in the habit of standing around like fucking statue for fifteen years. Things change.
This girl was his ticket off this shit planet.
No, he corrected himself. She was no girl, but all sweet, soft, woman. Just the scent of her had him hard as stone. Or perhaps there was more to it than that. All the days spent holding himself still and silent while she traced her fingers over him. Pretending to be frozen while everything under his skin was like imploding stars.
So many times he’d wanted to just tangle his hands in her hair and bend her over that desk and give her a good hard fucking. That yearning had become bittersweet when he realized the pretty sprite with the soft hands and the generous mouth was that bastard fuck’s daughter.
Hurting women wasn’t something he did. He might salt the land so no crops could grow, he mind blast an EMP to shut down all of their machinery, but physically, he didn’t hurt those who couldn’t fight back.
And with all he’d seen in the last weeks, that Fenris prick had earned that love tap from his war hammer.
The siren continued to wail in his ears. It was too soon. He should’ve been out of the study by the time the alarm sounded. Something had gone wrong with the plan.
He decided to take her. He could drop her on some outpost for her daddy to come fetch her once they were far enough away…or, he could keep her. Wouldn’t that just stick in Lokison’s craw? Like a shell stuck between his teeth, it would wear away at the soft places and make him bleed.
With the woman hoisted over his shoulder like a sack of grain, he headed down the hall toward what he thought were the bay doors to the transport.
“You’re going the wrong way,” she said, quiet and timid.
“What?”
“Wrong way. That’s not really the way out.”
“I’ve seen it.” He didn’t know why he stopped to converse with her. She was a hostage. A hostage wouldn’t want to help him get away, she’d be engineering his bloody end. But there was something about the tone of her voice that made him believe her.
She squirmed and he put her down, her small hands still rested on his shoulders. “It’s a trap. There’s a ship, but it’ll explode as soon as we exit the atmosphere. This way.” She nodded down toward the other end of the hall where it seemed to dead end. “That’s my father’s escape pod.”
Or maybe his brain was still scrambled from being frozen and she kept touching him. He should be raging at her, destroying everything in his path—but he felt bound to protect her.
Perhaps it was the look in her eyes when Fenris cornered her. It had been one of fear, but a sad resignation. That had severed her ties to her father, at least to his way of thinking. A woman who could depend on her caretaker, a woman beloved by her father, she wouldn’t have had that reaction.
Maybe that’s why she was helping him. She knew she had no worth aside from being able to help him off planet.
“How do we get inside?”
She splayed her hand on the access screen, but entry was denied.
Her face was again a mask of sorrowful resignation.
Something about that expression, it made him swing the hammer again. It crashed into the circuitry—sparks flying from the crushed mechanism. The door clicked open.
There was a ship, but it was only meant to carry one person.
“Is there another?” He nodded
at the ship.
She shook her head.
Fuck. He never would have done that to any child of his, left her here on this prison planet that swarmed with his enemies. It would be a bad death. Well, he wasn’t leaving her here. If things had gone according to his plan, the world outside this building had just caught fire and there would be a planet-wide riot. Death, destruction, and utter mayhem.
“Come on, then.”
“Where am I to sit?”
He climbed into the ship. “Right here.”
She blushed and shook her head.
“You had no trouble touching me when you thought I was frozen.”
“I…I’m sorry.”
She stood there, trembling. Alone and afraid. There was still part of him that wanted to punish her for her father’s crimes. She had his nose, his jaw… but her eyes were something else altogether.
There were like the sky on his home planet and they reminded him of days long past.
“Maybe you’re confused about what’s happening here. I’m kidnapping you. I didn’t ask. Get. In.” He nodded to the hall behind her that had just filled with rioting inmates. “Unless you want to stay with them.”
She scrambled up the dock and dumped herself unceremoniously in his lap and the ship closed around them as they prepared for launch.
Mercy was just a bit of a thing, and he leaned his chin over her shoulder to hurry through the pre-flight checks. The sooner the engine ignited, the sooner the ravenous mob would be incinerated if they attempted to impede his progress.
She squirmed again, obviously trying to get comfortable, but it did nothing for his comfort level, rubbing her ass all over his dick. He knew she wasn’t doing it on purpose, but he couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like if she was.
He grit his teeth and grasped her hips. “Be still, woman.”
“I can’t. There’s something poking me.” She squirmed again, grinding her sweet ass against him.
He closed his eyes. Poking her. Valhalla help him. He increased the pressure of his grasp and leaned closer to her ear and the scent of some blooming flower filled his senses. “It’s going to keep poking you until you settle down. Get me?”
She froze. “I…uh…”
“Just be still. Or we’re going to die here.”
She was so still that for a moment, he was sure she could’ve faked being the statue.
Magnus finished the preflight checks and just as the crowd poured over them like scurrying ants, the engines growled to life with a tell-tale roar. Launch was imminent and they scattered like those same, tiny ants when the thrusters ignited. Flames filled the bay and they were catapulted up past the stratosphere where the pretty blue sky merged into an ink black eternity and the stars became tangible.
It was only then that she sagged against him, settled as if that was the place where she belonged.
“Why aren’t you afraid?” Magnus asked her before he could think better of it.
“What purpose would it serve to show you fear? You are called destroyer for a reason. You will do as you see fit and I will…” she trailed off for a moment. “Deal with it as I must.”
“You didn’t have to come.”
“Didn’t I? I remember you telling me that I was confused because you didn’t ask me. It was an order or no—you’re kidnapping me.” She nodded. “That’s what it was.”
“And I could have forced you to obey me how?” Her hair was soft and silky against his skin. He wanted to touch it.
“In truth, you were the better choice. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
Vulnerability came so easily to her. She didn’t hesitate to show him her weaknesses. He found that idea to be rather terrifying. He’d never show his weaknesses, yet, in her, it didn’t make her seem fragile. It made her strong.
They both knew he hated her father. They both knew he could hurt her. He was bigger, stronger, faster, and they were alone in the far, dark reaches of space. Still, she rested against him, breathing even and relaxed as if she were with some trusted bodyguard.
What startled him the most was that there was a part of him that wished he could be that for her.
Probably because he’d gone fifteen years without plowing any sweet fields.
Or not so sweet fields. It had been a drought—a frozen winter in which all of his body’s needs had been neglected.
For a moment, he feared that it had wasted away and fallen off during his imprisonment.
No, he reassured himself. It was definitely still there, snuggled like a damn puppy up against her delicious, round, apple ass. His fingers fairly itched to spank it and he was sure her cheeks would flame just like they had when she’d felt guilty for running her hands all over him.
There’d been something decadent in that, holding himself so still as she explored.
His cock jerked against her and she gasped, but didn’t move away from him. As if she had anywhere to go.
By Ragnarok, he had to get this woman to an outpost and get rid of her. He’d never achieve anything if all he could do was be led around by his cock.
“No answer for me then?” she prompted.
Magnus realized he’d forgotten what she’d asked him. “I don’t remember what you asked me.”
“Is it the freezing sickness?” She squirmed around in his lap to look at him.
And he wondered for the first time if maybe he was actually dead and this was the real Hel—not some shitty prison planet, but a place where he’d be punished for all the wrong he’d done. To have some sweet miss squirming against his aching cock from now until the wolf swallowed all the suns and shattered the rainbow bridge.
“No, it’s not that, girl. Be still.” Magnus didn’t want to look at her face, if he did, he might do something stupid like kiss her.
And she’d let him. She’d admitted she’d do whatever he wanted.
But he didn’t want a woman because she was earning her keep. He wanted a woman who wanted him with the same fury, the same need.
“I don’t want to be still. If you’re going to die and leave me alone in this hulk of bolts, I need to know,” she cried.
Her eyes were so wide, and her breasts rose and fell against his bare chest with her impassioned plea.
“No, I’m not going to die. Unless you don’t stop squirming.”
“I don’t understand your problem with my moving around. No other male has had such a reaction to me.”
He arched a brow. “I’m sure they have. But I’m also sure you didn’t touch any of them like you touched me and I can’t forget it.”
“Why not?” Her fingers dug into his shoulders, it was a cute little burn, her cat scratches. Her question was almost a plea.
“I liked it.”
Her face flamed again and he decided that he definitely liked making her blush.
“I still like it. So stop being a minx and turn around, and be still.”
He could swear that he could feel her heartbeat thundering against the cage of her ribs. But that wasn’t possible. No human heart could beat so loudly, but that didn’t stop some part of him from fancying that he could.
“I… if you want me,” she began.
“Oh, I want you, but I’d rather have you screaming.”
“You want me to be afraid?” She curled her nose.
He laughed, a deep sort of gut laugh that he hadn’t felt in a long time. “No, little one. I want you to be screaming with need. I want you to be demanding I fuck you because there’s no other way to sate you. Get me?”
She licked her lips. “I thought you’d be… but you’re exactly what I wanted.”
“What?” He had absolutely no idea what to make of that statement.
She turned away from him, faced the controls, and was again stiff as a statue. “You know I fantasized about you. Obviously.” She shook her head. “Goddess, I’m so embarrassed.”
She took a shuddering breath and he knew that she had more to say.
“I made you into the ideal
of a man. But while I was doing it, I knew it couldn’t be real. I knew if you ever woke up, you’d be angry. You’d probably kill me. But you haven’t. You saved my life. You rescued me. You really are just like one of those heroes from the books I’m not supposed to read.”
“Any scenario where I’m the hero has it all wrong, sweetheart.” By Valhalla, she had the balls of a Berserker, but the naivety of a Saxony princess. There was something both fierce and fragile about her.
“Really? I guess you’ll have to prove that.” Suddenly, the vulnerable girl was gone and in her place was a woman ready to fight tooth and nail for her ideals. He wasn’t sure how she did that.
“I caved a man’s head in. You still have blood on your face. I kidnapped you.” He enumerated his crimes.
Then he wondered if he was trying to convince her or himself. Why did he want her to think he was a bad man? As long as she thought he was some kind of hero, she’d be easy to manage.
The thought sat heavy and dark in his gut like a bad shank of meat.
“He was trying to hurt me. And if you’d left me on Hel, you know how that would’ve ended. Do you think my father would want me after that? No.” She shook her head in a small motion. “Even now, he might try to find me if the news blasters find out what’s happened. But if not? He’ll figure he’s well-rid of me.”
“Why does your father treat you like one of the Saxony? Your mother was the great Valkyrie Eir. You have her eyes. You must have more that is like her. Yet, you are subservient, second-class. On my planet, you would never be treated thusly.”
“On your planet I would have two babes clutching my ankles, and one on the teat.”
He considered her for a moment and thought that wouldn’t be a bad thing. Except he knew that wasn’t the right answer. He may have been a knuckle-dragging Berserker, but he did know how to deal with the women. Treat them like men. Like people. Pretty simple, actually. “Only if that’s what you chose.”
She laughed. “So I hear. But if that’s the case, why would my mother have ever chosen Odin Lokison?”
“I wouldn’t know the answer to that. Valkyries marry for many reasons. Probably because she wanted you.”
“Then why would she leave again.”
