He found it interesting that she didn’t doubt that she was the woman in the prophecy. That he would have to love her for things to happen as foretold. When she cleared her throat in discomfort, he knew she had caught those thoughts.
“It explains your attitude toward me,” she murmured into his mind, straight and to the point, which he appreciated. “Keeping me at arm’s length might prevent you from falling for me yet you’re overlooking one thing.”
“And what is that?”
“The prophecy doesn’t exist if love doesn’t exist.” Her eyes met his, her internal tone logical, which he also appreciated. “You try to keep your distance, so you don’t grow too attached which will make it easier to let me go when the time comes. Yet technically the time shouldn’t come if you don’t fall in love.”
“If only it were that simple,” he murmured in return.
“What do you mean?”
He eyed her for a moment, wondering how blunt he should be. If he was ready to put it into words. But something about staring into her lovely green eyes made it come so easily.
“I mean the moment I saw your picture on the mantle in the twenty-first century, I knew it was you,” he said aloud softly. “I knew love was inevitable.”
“I...” she whispered then trailed off, evidently having no luck finding her own words.
Though she had seemed straightforward and practical moments before, wariness flashed in her eyes before her lashes fluttered and she looked away. Eyes still averted, she cleared her throat and finally managed a somewhat stunted, “Thanks,” before her cheeks flamed red.
In truth, he found her response charming, the skip of her pulse endearing. He had never experienced either with a woman. And she wasn’t getting sick. Nor, for that matter, was Leviathan. His eyes went to Rokar who also seemed fine so far. “How do you feel, Cousin?”
Rokar stopped slicing the meat and frowned before his eyes shot to Eirik. “I am not ill...I should be by now...”
Could it be because Rokar was in Helheim? Perhaps Eirik didn’t affect people so badly in this world. Which would make sense considering his magical pine was partly in Helheim, and he sickened his kin less around it. So it stood to reason they might not be sickened at all when fully immersed in Helheim.
“Yet Leviathan and I felt okay around you before we got here,” Kenzie reminded, following his thoughts more readily by the moment. Her eyes went to Rokar before going to Eirik. “Do you have any theories on how he got here? Why Sage and Håkon were left behind?”
“No.” He looked to his cousin. “How is your tattoo? Does it have any color yet?”
“I don't know.” Rokar stood, turned, and lifted his jerkin. “It is located in the center of my back.”
He and Leviathan narrowed their eyes and stood.
“What is it?” Kenzie looked from man to man then to Rokar’s back. “I don’t see any color in his dragon tat.”
“No,” Leviathan said softly. “But that tattoo above it is new, yes?”
“Yes,” Eirik confirmed as Rokar frowned at them over his shoulder. “What tattoo?”
Eirik allowed him to see it through his mind’s eye.
“That wasn’t there before,” Kenzie said, awed as she stood alongside them and eyed it. “That’s a hell of an ink job.”
“This tattoo design is one of several that signify the Ancient’s original markings before our tribe came to Midgard,” Leviathan provided. “It signifies the transitioning of our people. A doorway from one life to another. The blade down the middle divides us into what we were and what we became.” His eyes went to hers. “Dragons with the ability to love.”
“Oh, wow,” she whispered. “That’s pretty intense.”
And there was the word love coming out of his friend’s mouth once again. It seemed Leviathan really had changed. Not to say he was incapable of love before but he never would have voiced as much. Then again, the Ancients worked differently than the Sigdirs. They were a more tribal unit with levels of ranking within their society. Less like a clan of humans and more like a pack mentality. And back in those days, Leviathan’s first priority was rising in rank not thinking about love or even taking a permanent mate.
It seemed, however, that might have changed.
Rokar pulled his jerkin down, a heavy frown on his face as he looked from Leviathan to Eirik. “The new marking would explain the feeling I had on my back when I transitioned between your lair and this place.”
Eirik frowned. “What feeling?”
“Burning,” he grunted, treating it as though it were nothing as he set to putting pieces of meat on sticks and handing them out.
“How bad was the burn?” Leviathan asked. “Was it unbearable?”
“Yes,” Rokar stated bluntly, leaving it at that as he handed meat to Kenzie.
Eirik, in turn, met Leviathan’s eyes. “Could it be related to the fabled burn of transition then?”
“What’s that?” Kenzie murmured, studying the meat before she took a bite and groaned in pleasure. Ensnared by the sensual sound, his eyes went to hers, and his cock sprung to attention. He had forgotten that female dragons in heat made just about everything they did seem sensual to attract the male.
“According to my parents,” Leviathan replied, his hungry eyes locked on her as well as she licked her lips with pleasure, catching every bit of juice from the meat. “When the Ancients first transitioned from their world to Midgard, they experienced a very painful but brief burning sensation.”
She finished her meat, her eyes wandering to Eirik’s groin before she cleared her throat, swallowed hard and looked to the fire. Seconds later the smell of her arousal hit the air. When it did Rokar grunted and muttered something under his breath before he put distance between himself and her.
“This sucks,” she muttered, referring to her state of arousal as she plunked down in front of the fire again. “But the meat’s great, Rokar. Thanks.”
He only nodded and set to eating his food, content to ignore them for the time being.
“So what does this mean?” Leviathan asked Eirik. “Why was he marked with the First Blade of my people? And why did it appear when he crossed into Helheim?”
“Something he should not have been able to do,” Eirik rumbled as he sat again and contemplated the fire. Contemplated what this might mean. “I fear me being part of Davyn and Shea’s new Gateway Magic is having more repercussions than anticipated. It is...” he searched for the best way to explain it, “creating a rift between our two worlds.”
“Which means it might be easier for our enemy Einnar to make it to Midgard now too, right?” Kenzie eyed him curiously as she accepted another piece of meat from Rokar. “Are Tess and Ava in danger? Can he make it to them?”
“I don’t think so,” he replied. “I think whatever’s forming is in this time frame so if he’s heading anywhere it would be to my era...to my people.”
“I have sisters there too,” she reminded. “Sage and Shea. Which means we should head back that way seeing how he can’t get to us here.” She cocked her head. “You said you had a couple of points of safety. Where’s the other one?”
“My lair,” he murmured before he sensed something at nearly the same moment as Leviathan and Rokar. A shift in the darkness. A closing presence.
Seconds later, Hel roared, “Flee,” into his mind before the darkness exploded with activity.
Chapter Eleven
KENZIE DIDN’T THINK but acted on pure DNA instincts as she whipped out her dagger and began fighting two men that crashed together right on top of them. Almost as if they didn’t know where they were, many faces registered shock and confusion.
“Who the hell are these people?” she said into Eirik’s mind as she slashed her dagger at one man and caught another dagger when he tossed it her way. “Because it seems like they’re here to fight each other not us.”
“They’re Årud,” Eirik grunted aloud as he slit a man’s throat open.
“Shit,” she mutter
ed, having heard of them. Some were rogue allies possessed by Skáld and others under the leadership of Magnus. As it happened, he turned out not only to be Vigdis’ former husband and their ally but a Demon Sorcerer. If all that wasn’t enough, not just him but his tribe of Årud fire demons apparently drained dragons of their magic if they were around them too long.
Coincidentally, moments later she was untimely introduced to the very sorcerer she was thinking about.
“Where are we?” a man with a patch over his eye roared at Eirik as he swung his ax and nicked a warrior’s jugular while punching another man in the face. “Where have you brought us, dragon?”
Obviously, this battle had been taking place on Midgard before it shifted here. And clearly, Magnus and his men fought his own rogue warriors.
“You are in Helheim, Magnus,” Eirik growled back, lopping off a man’s sword arm from the elbow down as Kenzie fought and did her best to follow their conversation. “And I did not bring you here.”
She understood why Shea found Magnus so appealing. Though he probably had a decade on her and her sisters, he possessed a raw sex appeal despite the lightning bolt scar on his cheek. And a fire demon to boot? Total bad boy.
She felt Eirik’s frown more than saw it as Magnus growled at him, “Why am I here then, Sigdir if you did not bring me?”
She got why he was so miffed. From what she’d heard he had traveled to Skáld’s Realm to find his rogue warriors in hopes of getting them out from under the double headed serpent’s control. Now instead of being there trying to help his men, he was stuck here. In all honesty, though, based on their current battle it didn't seem like he'd been having much luck turning his warriors back to his side.
“As you know, Magnus,” Eirik replied. “The worlds are crossing over.”
Eirik was about to swing at another man when of all things, her cat landed on his shoulder.
“Floyd,” she exclaimed, terrified for him as she whipped a blade into a man’s shoulder then side-kicked him.
In the meantime, Eirik seemed frozen in time, as he stared at her cat. While he did, Magnus leapt in front of him and intercepted a guy about ready to lop Eirik’s head off.
“Floyd!” Kenzie cried again as she spun and fought and prayed nobody killed her cat.
“He’s fine,” Eirik assured telepathically before he did the unthinkable and started fighting with Floyd on his shoulder. Because her cat clearly wasn’t going anywhere. No, he held on tight, digging his claws in. Comically enough, despite his clenching feline grip, he appeared remarkably at ease. As if he had been shoulder-side battling his whole life. Nevertheless, it was a good thing Eirik had a high tolerance to pain because those claws had to sting something fierce.
“That is a strange sight, is it not?” Leviathan said into her mind with a hint of humor.
“It’s something,” she agreed before she dodged out of the way of an incoming ax. Adrenaline pumping she whipped her dagger back only for it to hit...rock?
She blinked as the warriors they had been fighting faded, and her surroundings changed entirely. Everything felt heavier and appeared less colorful. Less crisp. She blinked a few more times as she got her bearings. They were in a massive seaside cave and definitely back on Earth. As she gazed around, she realized all the same people were with her, including Magnus. No sign of his warriors though.
“Loki’s cock,” Magnus groused. “Where am I now?”
Floyd shot Magnus a dirty look as he purred loudly and continued lounging on Eirik’s shoulder. From the looks of it, he had eased up with his claws. Luckily dragons healed fast so if Eirik was in pain, it shouldn't last long.
“I’m so glad to see you, buddy,” she murmured as she pulled him off of Eirik, who remained unnaturally stiff, his eyes following the cat with a mixture of distrust and caution.
“Where am I, dragon,” Magnus growled at Eirik. “And where are my men?”
“I would say you are right where Eirik's former lover wants you,” came a sultry voice before a sensual far too attractive woman with flowing black hair made herself apparent. “Just like me.”
“Vigdis,” Magnus murmured, his one good eye locked on her.
“Yes, Husband,” she murmured, eying him with a mixture of distrust and lust before her gaze went to Eirik. “I believe your goddess is doing her best to protect you even as she keeps her distance.”
“She is choosing an unusual variety of people to do that,” Eirik commented, not disputing Vigdis as he listed off their company. “A Demon Sorcerer, head seer, the arch-alpha of the Ancients and,” his eyes went to Rokar, “my cousin.”
“Yes,” Vigdis breathed, her eyes swinging to Rokar. “A dragon with the mark of the First Blade.” Her eyes flittered over Leviathan then back to Eirik. “A symbol, above all, that represents strength to Midgard dragons. Strength to those who followed in the Ancients’ footsteps.”
As she allowed Floyd to settle on her shoulder, Kenzie eyed Rokar again, still unsure what to make of him. As hot as the rest of the Sigdir’s, he was tall, dark-haired, broad shouldered and well-muscled with two skinny braids weaved into his goatee. His smoldering grayish green eyes were lanced through with light silver. The unusual but very cool color somehow reminded her of a mid-summer storm. The sort you felt in the air before it arrived. Brooding and turbulent, simmering before it exploded and wreaked havoc.
Yet Rokar himself seemed very guarded, his disposition dauntingly low key. Like her sisters, she got the sense he was once ferocious but now tempered by deep sadness. Misery that had literally transformed him. And who could blame him? He had suffered a great loss, and the grief had taken its toll.
“So I have been torn from my tribe to protect a dragon who brought light to my people when I offered him help,” Magnus growled, his eye narrowed on Eirik.
“Pierce is only partially elven,” Eirik said, referring to the ‘light’ Magnus spoke of. “And I did not know what he was when I asked for your help on Shea and Davyn’s adventure.”
“Where is Pierce anyway?” She was still trying to get over that one. Pierce had elven blood. Crazy. “I assumed he was still where Shea left him. At the Fortress.”
“He is,” Vigdis confirmed. “Everyone is there now except us.”
“And we’re here because of Hel?” She looked at Eirik and tried to keep her voice light, mainly because he deserved to have people in his corner. “So despite you stealing me back, she’s watching out for you.”
Most women would probably be furious and want nothing to do with him after what he pulled, but she wasn’t most women. Her heart broke for him on several levels. Not just because he slowly but surely lost his family but the fate he had suffered with his son and how rarely he got to see him. Know him. It was impossible to conceive. Yet despite all that, the love he felt for his child was palpable and very much there.
Even if love weren’t there, she would sacrifice herself for Dagr. For any child subjected to the likes of Skáld and his dragons. She might still be young, but she’d lived a good life. Just so long as her animals, sisters, and parents were protected, she would do what she had to do.
“And you might have to, little Gemini,” Vigdis murmured. Her eyes suddenly hazed over then homed in on Kenzie as her voice deepened, and changed. “Yet another betrayer in my flight of dragons. He will find you, and he will take you back.” When her eyes narrowed in hatred on Kenzie’s stomach, she could barely catch her breath. “He will not allow it again...ever again.”
“What the fuck,” she whispered.
She gripped her womb at the fleeting sting of pain there before she staggered back a few steps only to bump into Eirik. Thankfully, he pulled her back against him protectively before her legs gave way.
“That’s enough,” Leviathan growled as he drew his blade on Vigdis only for Magnus to do the same to him, his voice just as threatening when he murmured, “Take another step toward my wife and die, Ancient.”
When fire sizzled up Magnus’ blade, Leviathan hissed at
him. Meanwhile, Rokar of all people pulled Vigdis behind him in protection and narrowed his eyes at the demon and Ancient. “Leave Vigdis be. She is under the influence of Skáld.” His eyes softened, compassionate as they met Kenzie’s. “Are you all right, woman?”
“I am,” she tried to say, but the words caught in her throat because the truth was since this all began, she wasn’t okay. Not at all. Skáld had just hit too close to home, and that terrified her. How did he know? Because he knew what even her sisters didn’t about her, didn’t he? Or at least, something along those lines.
“Come,” Eirik murmured, scooping her up before she had a chance to deny him. “You need to rest.”
Floyd smoothly shifted onto her lap, his chin up as though he were a king looking down on his subjects before he flicked his tail at the others dismissively.
“I don’t need to rest,” she argued into Eirik’s mind because she still couldn’t seem to push a blasted word out of her mouth. “Vigdis...I mean Skáld, just...creeped me out I guess.”
“I cannot shift you back to where you were taken from,” Eirik said over his shoulder to the others. “So I suggest you take shelter for the eve then we will figure out our next step in the morn.”
“I will keep watch,” Leviathan and Rokar said simultaneously as Eirik stalked out of the cave and headed down a long narrow tunnel which led into another cave. As they entered, torches flared to life on either side of a wide entrance a few feet above the ocean, hissing and spitting as a light mist fell from a dismal sky.
She had never been held like this by a guy, and though she wasn't initially thrilled about the damsel in distress aspect of it, in the end, she discovered she quite liked it. More so, being in his arms and the spicy, warm scent of him. Not just that, but the sense of safety and comfort she felt. Honestly, it was the first time the word ‘hero’ from romance novels made much sense to her. As a rule, and despite what she saw between her parents, she wasn't a big believer in love. At least not the romantic sort.
“You should get some sleep,” he said softly, about to lie her down on a big fur covered bed before she stopped him, finding her voice at last.
Viking's Ransom (Viking Ancestors: Rise of the Dragon, #4) Page 8
