by Kate Pearce
“I wonder how my mother and Odin ever…” she shook her head. “I think she’d have been miserable.” Mercy shrugged. “Him too, most likely.”
Magnus leaned his head against her heart. “I don’t think we’re safe here.”
“I don’t think we’re safe anywhere.”
“It’s just, it was too easy. I know Eir meant well, but something just feels off.”
“Our welcoming did seem a bit showy for last minute,” she sighed. “Maybe it’s okay that we’re not safe. Maybe being here will cause our enemies to strike and we can defeat them in the light, for the whole ‘verse to see.”
His arms tightened around her and even though she knew what he was going to ask next, it was still a shock to her system when he said the words.
“Even if that enemy is your father?”
“He will always be my father and I hope you understand that when he is gone, I will mourn the loss of my father. But I won’t blame you. Not if he comes after us.”
“And Rollo?”
“We’ll just have to hope we can meet him on our own terms.”
“What your mother said—”
“I choose you.”
He lifted his head. “What?”
“Whatever happens. I choose you. We’re not going to hide from him and hope he doesn’t come steal our happiness. And even though it’s only been a short time, I know you like I know myself. I guess it’s the Valkyrie/Berserker bond or something, but I know you’d never be happy, never be able to breathe while he lived.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?” She pushed her hands through his hair.
“For not asking me to choose, because I would choose you, Mercy.”
His grip was so tight, it was almost pain, but she didn’t move. It was as if he were trying to anchor her there, or maybe it was himself.
“A Valkyrie worth her salt wouldn’t ask you to.”
“No, but maybe a smart woman would,” a voice sounded from the door.
Mercy had had just about enough of surprises, but unlike when she’d be alone with Fenris, she wasn’t afraid. And it wasn’t only because Magnus was with her. She wasn’t afraid because there was nothing he could do to her now that mattered. She’d finally found her own place in the ‘verse, her own purpose.
Rollo, the bastard who would be king, couldn’t take that away from her.
He stood like some melodrama villain, dressed in a black tech suit—mech wings spread out behind his shoulders, and the black forest of his hair hanging down over his pale brow.
“You just killed yourself,” Mercy said. “You’re dead and you don’t even know it.”
His eyes slid to her, and they reminded her of the Great Dark. No light. No hope. Endless nothing. “You’ll be an interesting addition to my harem. I’ll put you in a cage with my other Valkyrie. Maybe I’ll let you fight to the death for the honor.”
She snarled.
“I like that fire. You didn’t have that last time I was on Hel. I would’ve accepted when your father gave you—”
Magnus cut him off with the deadly song of his war hammer. He swung the beast through the air in a killing arc, but Rollo, for all his theatrics was a hardened warrior. He would’ve had to have been t have defeated Boudicea—and he met the blow with one of his own.
The clash of war hammers echoed throughout the great white-pillared halls.
But Mercy wouldn’t be just an observer to this battle. She was engaged with a cool hand closed around her throat from behind.
She had no training, but that something that flowed hot and volcanic through her blood spurred to life and guided her movements. She grabbed the woman’s wrist and used her own body to leverage the other woman so that Mercy threw her forward and evened the playing field.
Anae scrambled to her feet and produced a thin silver blade from her armlet. “Time to die, princess.”
Mercy didn’t bother to respond. She didn’t need to threaten the other woman, didn’t need to enumerate the ways in which she would dis-articulate all her moving joints—no. Mercy was about action, not promises.
It didn’t matter why Anae had joined with Rollo, it didn’t matter what her evil plan was, all that mattered was that Mercy knew that she’d learn what it meant to take a life.
There was a moment when it seemed as if time stopped, everything had slowed down as if they were all moving through anti-gravity. Her vision narrowed and all she could see was the priestess’s neck, her thin blue veins under the ivory skin, so fragile.
So breakable.
The priestess drew her blade, held it high and launched herself at her opponent.
Mercy saw her coming in slow motion, her muscles and ligaments moved without any conscious instruction and her left fist extended with so much force, bolstered by Magnus’s strength, that she punched through the Anae’s throat.
In one fluid motion, she dropped the priestess, caught the silver blade and spun through the air, her body guided by instinct, passion, and the connection to her Berserker.
She put that silver blade through the back of Rollo’s head and he dropped like a stone.
And Mercy ducked just in time to avoid losing her own head to Magnus’s war hammer.
The look of horror on his face told her just how close she’d come. The war hammer dropped from his hand and instead, his arms were full of her.
“Sweet fucking Valhalla, what the hell were you thinking?”
She clung to him, unmindful of the blood and sweat on them both.
“I wasn’t thinking. I was being a Valkyrie.”
“You are certainly Eir’s daughter.”
“Mercy Eirsdottir. I like it.”
“Then wear it. You’ve earned it.” He kissed her hard.
“You’re not angry I took your change at vengeance?”
“You’re safe. That’s all that matters. That’s all that’s ever mattered.”
“You say the prettiest things, Berserker.”
“Yeah, but you’ve got other uses for my mouth.”
“That, I do. And I intend to work you hard, once we’re somewhere safe.”
“And where is safe, do you think, Mercy?”
“Is that your way of saying you want to stay here?” She put her hand on his cheek.
“The Acadians are my people. Your people. You’d be a queen.”
“My father raised me for a life in politics. I could do worse.” She shrugged. “We’ll have to get a contingent of soldiers here until we root out all of Rollo’s supporters.”
“And here you thought you didn’t think like a Valkyrie. I have you almost naked in my arms post battle and there you go talking about strategy. It’s kind of sexy.”
“Only kind of?”
“Yeah, I like it better after the talking.” He nuzzled her ear. “And so do you.” He carried her out the doors and still clothed into the fey purple waters that washed away the blood, the fear, and all that was left of Odinsdottir.
She’d been quite right when she said she was the girl who used to be Mercy Odinsdottir because all that was left was Valkyrie.
Eirsdottir.
Valkyrie to Magnus the Destroyer.
Receiver of Happy Ever After.
EPILOGUE
Magnus the Destroyer, bad-ass extraordinaire and King of the Acadians had a tankard of mead halfway to his lips when a screech sounded from the upstairs room where his beloved lay sleeping.
He paused—debating which reaction was appropriate. To run up the stairs swinging his war hammer ready to do murderous things to any who’d dared disturb his love, or slinking outside to work on the special dagger he was carving for her.
Actually, if anyone had dared disturb Mercy’s slumber, he wouldn’t give a six-legged horse’s turd for their future.
He brought the mead closer to his lips and she screeched again.
Damn it, it was like she knew.
Eir took the tankard out of his hand and drained it. Since Rollo’s death, her fifteen ye
ar mission at an end, she’d retired and come to live on Lycanos Four. “Sounds like your ladylove is in need of your services.”
“Why don’t you go see?” he dared her.
“Not me. She’s as big as a bear and just as angry. You married her, you deal with it.” Eir teased. “It’s your fault she’s like this anyway.” The woman grinned.
“Yeah, you just wait until Thane and Thora are calling you Grammy and pulling your braids like reins.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” Eir’s smile softened, until Mercy yelled again.
“Put that damn tankard on a tile. You’re going to ruin the wood. It’s like you two were born and raised in a barn.” Mercy leaned over the stairs, her riot of long red hair swaying in the cool breeze coming in off the water.
Magnus grinned. “Not a barn. A mud hut.”
Instead of being irritated with him, she smiled. “Come here. Your bite-sized Valkyries are kicking up a storm.”
Magnus darted up the stairs and grabbed her, hand on her belly. The ferocious little kicks delighted him. They were so fierce, so strong. Qualities they would need once they came to meet the world.
Rebuilding the Acadian way of life and culture was taking time, but when he was out destroying, earning his name and killing his way across the ‘verse, this was what he’d been seeking all along.
He didn’t know if he actually believed in Valhalla, but if it was real, he imagined it looked a lot like this moment.
THE END
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MORE FROM SARANNA DEWYLDE
Coming September 15, the second in my Labels series: Slut.
“You’re a woman who is comfortable in her own sexuality. That necessarily means you must be labeled, categorized and filed away for everyone’s safety.”
Rebecca “Bex” Foxworth likes that description of herself. It makes her sound strong, dangerous, and powerful—like she’s standing against some grand injustice by using her body as she sees fit. That’s how her friend Claire Howard sees her and if Claire has taught her anything, it’s that labels are defined by the people who wear them, and not the other way around.
But SLUT is more than a label to Bex: it’s her armor. It protects her from ever having to share her true self. The loop in her head tells her she’s innately flawed and wholly unworthy. Why else would her parents insist she go under the knife for a new nose, a new body, and plastic perfection?
That’s something Thornton Henry Edgeleaf would never understand. Thornton is perfect, in every way—handsome, worldly, passionate—with just one unforgivable flaw: he’s utterly sincere. It makes Bex want to run screaming, back into the familiar, indifferent arms of men who won’t fail to dismiss and mistreat her. But nothing’s as easy as it used to be…
Books by Saranna DeWylde
The Labels Series
Fat
Slut
10 Days Series
How To Lose A Demon in 10 Days
How To Marry A Warlock in 10 Days
How to Seduce An Angel in 10 Days
Desperate Housewives of Olympus
Desperate Housewives of Avalon
Ride of the Darkyrie
Writing as Sara Lunsford
Sweet Hell on Fire: A Memoir of the Prison I Worked In and the Prison I Lived In
VIKING UNBOUND
The Triad Series #3
by
Kate Pearce
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AUTHOR’S NOTE
Welcome to the science-fiction erotic romance world of the Triad System where telepaths roam, and forming a three-way partnership often has its ups and downs. In this particular adventure a four-thousand-year old Viking is being transported through space. Now what could possibly go wrong with that? If you enjoy this book, please feel free to check out the two previous books on my website and if you want to find out when the next one is being published join my newsletter, where you’ll be the first to know about all new upcoming projects.
Enjoy!
Kate x
PROLOGUE
York, England 970. A.D.
“We’re not going to survive this time, brother.” Aki’s voice echoed around the dark cavern as they ran. “Someone betrayed us.”
“I know that,” Einarr snarled. “And, by the Gods, he will regret it.”
“If we live.”
Einarr took another turn and continued downward, the sound of underground water now in front of him. “We’ll live.” He slowed his step as the light ahead grew stronger.
“By running away like cowards?” Aki was breathing hard. “They’ve blocked the entrance to this cave. All they have to do is come after us. We’ll be easy prey.”
“We’re not running away.” The eerie white light bounced off Einarr’s shield and axe. The power of his ancestors surged within him and answered the call of the ancient magic. “Grandfather told me about this place. He said that if I ever needed an escape, the waterfall would provide one.”
Aki gasped as they stepped into a huge cavern where water tumbled in a frothing white mass down from the farthest black rock formation.
“There’s a way out?” Aki had to yell to be heard.
Einarr reached behind him and grasped Aki’s arm ring, sending a wave of power that pushed his words directly into his twin brother’s head.
“Aye. Behind the waterfall. We just have to walk through to the other side.” Einarr took a step forward, one hand on his axe. “Be careful. It’s slippery.”
Aki followed him as the well-worn path climbed steadily until they reached a smooth stone platform that seemed to disappear directly inside the roar of the white-flecked water. Einarr set down his shield and his brother did the same.
“Hold onto my cloak,” Einarr said.
“I’m not a babe in arms,” Aki complained, but obeyed him anyway. “May Odin protect us.”
As Einarr inched forward, everything inside him slowed and coalesced into a burning hot sensation in his fingertips. He reached out his hand and the water turned to steam, lifting the curtain to show him the continuing path and a narrow cavern behind the falls. He kept moving and the waterfall closed behind them, leaving an eerie, screaming silence that made him want to shove his fingers in his ears and shriek like a frightened child.
The noise rose until the rocks were vibrating, and all the hair on his body stood upright like an animal at bay. Sparks flew from his outstretched fingertips, ricocheting off the walls and slicing through the water like the sharpest dagger cuts.
“Einarr!”
He looked back and Aki screamed as the water turned inward and coalesced into ice. Then he knew no more.
1
Trios Space Agency Ship QZ41
Trios System 229995.
“So what we have here, Tecky, is a bona fide prehistoric popsicle?”
“Not quite prehistoric, but certainly ancient.” Frey glanced over at the ship’s captain and tried to smile. “My name’s Frey, Captain Travis, not Tecky.”
He held open a door and locked it behind her with yet another security code. “I know what your name is. We call all the science officers Tecky. It makes things easier to remember as you come and go so fast.”
“I suppose that makes sense.”
She tried to sound calm and approachable. It was her first job, and she didn’t want to give the wrong impression. The FREN organization, the Federal Research Environmental Nation, employed all the scientists on Trios System ships, and she desperately wanted to be one of them for more than just her probationary year. Unfortunately, from what she’d seen so far, the crew on this particular ship was rather casual about rules and regulations and found her insistence on following protocol amusing.
“I’ve been specially trained to keep an eye on this cargo, Captain.”
“Why, what do they think is going to happen?” Travis laughed, the sound bouncing off the spherical metal
walls. “Hopefully that thing is frozen solid.”
“The ice is untouched. And that’s how it will remain until we put down on Alpha Station Three.”
Travis unlocked the last door and handed her the secure passkey. The temperature dropped as they approached the glass viewing screen. Frey flipped the lights on.
“Well, Holy Magnet, he looks like a real live man, doesn’t he?” Travis whistled. “Like he was freeze-framed from a holo-image rather than really frozen. Do you guys know how it happened?”
“We’re not quite sure. It looks as though he and the other specimen were encased in ice so suddenly that they were preserved intact.”
“When do you reckon that was?”
“About four thousand Earth years ago.”
Travis whistled again. “Who found them?”
“Part of an old copper mine gave way near the ancient city of York and revealed the caverns beneath the city. The Earth scientists believe the males might be of Viking origin.”
“You’re kidding.” Travis leaned in on the glass and shaded his eyes with his hand. “Looks like the guy has some kind of axe.”
“You’re correct, captain. The other specimen on your sister ship is holding a sword or a bow. We’re not quite sure what it is yet.”
“So they’re going to defrost them on Alpha Three like frozen pigcow?”
“It’s a bit more technical than that, but I suppose it is a similar process.”
“We could stick him in our FoodPro and see if that would work. We’d save billions for the Trios Space Agency.”