The Complete Fenris Series

by Samantha MacLeod

“As least let me smell it,” the massive squirrel said.

  Loki uncapped the bottle and held it toward the creature’s pointed, rat-like face. The squirrel sniffed the air. For a moment, I almost imagined I could smell it, too. Honey and flowers, like a soft, gentle song rising on a summer breeze.

  “Ah, that’s the stuff,” the squirrel sighed contentedly. He leaned back and fixed me again with bright, black eyes. “Óðinn’s mead, that is. The stuff of poetry. You’d be amazed, simply fucking amazed, at what people will trade for a drop of that garbage.”

  The squirrel laughed in a high, staccato burst. “Every shithead in the Nine Realms wants to be a poet,” he mused.

  “Right, then,” he said, leaping suddenly to his four paws and scampering up the back of the couch.

  I drew back almost before I realized what I was doing. The enormous squirrel tilted his head to one side and yelped at me, a sound that made me feel almost as if I were back in the Ironwood.

  “Come on, now,” the beast said, managing to sound both patronizing and indulgent. “Loki here said you wanted to spend a bit of intimate time with his son. Since his son’s a bit tied up at the moment—” The squirrel paused here to laugh at his own joke. “You’ve got to depend on me. I’m the traveler, after all. I’m the one who can pass between the Nine Realms, easy as breathing. And I’m the only one, I’ll have you know, who has the key to dreams.”

  “Yes, we’re all very impressed with you, Ratatoskr,” Loki said dryly.

  The squirrel made a high-pitched tut-tutting sound and fluffed his tail. “You’re just jealous, you surly bastard.”

  Loki didn’t reply. My skin prickled with revulsion as I glanced from the squirrel back to Loki. Ugh, if only it hadn’t been a stars damned squirrel!

  “If you want to see Fenris,” Loki said, in a low, measured tone, “this is the only way.”

  I swallowed hard as the twins squirmed inside me. Then, trying to stifle the bright throb of panic flaring deep inside my chest, I sat down next to the beast.

  “Oh, damn, you’ve got babies,” it squealed. “Don’t go expecting me to send the babies with you. Too complicated by far. Besides, they’re already living on the borders of dream anyway.”

  Fear tightened at the base of my neck. “What’s going to happen to them?”

  The squirrel laughed again in his a rapid series of chirps. “What’s going to happen to them? Why, what happens to them when you’re asleep, genius?”

  “Your child will be fine,” Loki said, with a frown.

  “Child!” Ratatoskr squeaked derisively. “She’s carrying a litter of two, Lie-smith. Anyone can see that! And here I thought the great Loki of the Æsir had some slight magical talents.”

  Loki’s eyes widened slightly before the mask of his face settled back into a calm, almost bored, countenance.

  “You’re just falling asleep, Sol,” Loki said, ignoring the enormous squirrel’s self-satisfied chittering. “It won’t hurt them.”

  I tightened my arms around my stomach, feeling my skin bulge as the little bodies inside kicked and writhed.

  “If they’re going to be in danger,” I began, but my voice faded as the words fell from my lips.

  Of course my children were in danger. What in the Nine Realms did I think I was doing, coming here to free the monster Óðinn most feared? If anything went wrong, or if this disgusting rodent decided to betray us, my children were as good as dead.

  My eyes fell on the shimmering flask clasped in Loki’s pale fingers. It seemed like such a small, insubstantial thing to assure loyalty. Or to bargain for my life, and the life of Fenris’s babies within me.

  “Ratatoskr has no interest in your children,” Loki said.

  The squirrel raised a back leg and kicked at his ear. “Babies never interested me much, to be honest,” he said. “I love kids, though, the little fuckin’ demons. Tell you what, you bring the babies back when they’re, oh, three or four years old, and we’ll rain some real chaos down on these Realms.”

  I cleared my throat with a non-committal murmur. Loki took a step closer to me and wrapped his cool fingers around my wrist.

  “If you truly don’t want to do this—” he began.

  “No,” I said, stopping him. “I’ll do it.”

  Loki’s fingers left my arm, and he waved at the couch where Ratatoskr perched, his tail twitching excitedly above the black tufts of his ears. Swallowing hard, as if that could still the wild racing of my heart, I forced myself to lie down.

  “Focus on Fenris,” Loki said. “Focus on what you love.”

  Small, cold fingers touched the base of my neck. I flinched. Ratatoskr chirped in shrill disapproval.

  “Hold still!” he scolded. “Can’t do this with you jumping all over the Realms-damned room, you little idiot.”

  My fingers clenched into fists, and I forced myself to remain motionless. The squirrel’s paws brushed my skin again. I ground my teeth together, fighting the swelling urge to run.

  “Fenris,” Loki said. “Just Fenris. Don’t think about—”

  And the world went black.

  THE MONSTER FREED: CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Birdsong. Somewhere above me, the delicate, lilting murmurations of birds ebbed and flowed. I opened my eyes to see shifting patterns of light and darkness. My vision slowly cleared, revealing intricate patterns of leaves and branches against a sky brushed with the delicate hue of a robin’s egg.

  Home, I thought, with a sudden rush of warmth. I’m in the Ironwood. I’m home!

  The low, cheerful chatter of a stream tumbled somewhere nearby. I rubbed my eyes, and my cheeks burned as I glanced down. I was naked. Damp moss pressed against my bare skin. The pale spread of my hips. The flat expanse of my stomach.

  Flat? Panic surged through me, and I gulped a breath. For a moment, the leaf-strewn moss wavered before me like something thin and unsubstantial. I pressed my palms against my eyes. There was something I needed to remember, something vital.

  Babies. Liburnia’s smiling face surfaced in my memories. She held both her arms at her hips, bent at the elbow as she rocked back and forth. Holding imaginary babies.

  My babies. I ran my fingers across the flat, smooth expanse of my stomach, and another image took the place of Liburnia. Loki, with his flaming hair and pale, ice-blue eyes.

  “You’re just falling asleep, Sol,” Loki had said.

  My heartbeat slowed as I breathed in deeply, savoring the richness of the Ironwood. The memories seemed oddly distant, as though I were remembering stories from long ago instead of images from my own life. But, yes, I’d been sent into a dream. I trailed my hand over the cool moss beneath my body. This must be a dream.

  “Dream moss,” I whispered, then giggled at the thought.

  Something white flashed in the corner of my vision. I turned to follow it. Two tiny butterflies danced together above the verdant forest floor. They wove in and out of the thick sunbeams, their powder-white bodies drifting apart, then almost touching. I smiled at the slow sensuality of their dance.

  They moved toward the trees. I rose, wanting to follow their graceful progressions. They circled and danced, climbing higher into the air and then descending in graceful spirals, as I followed. My bare feet pressed against the thick duff of pine needles as I let the butterflies lead me through the forest.

  The sound of running water grew stronger. The butterflies soared and tumbled over a tangle of ferns, then dipped behind the velvet fronds. My heart gave a strange tug as they vanished, and I pushed the leaves aside.

  A small stream shimmered before me, its surface gleaming like liquid gold. It curved slowly around the base of an enormous boulder. I frowned at the boulder. I knew that stone. For some reason, it made something deep inside me tighten with a sweet, familiar ache.

  Only one person could fill that need. I closed my eyes and let my hands drop down the flat plane of my stomach to the curls between my legs. And I remembered my husband. The warmth of his fingers on my skin, his lips again
st the softness between my thighs. The sound of his breath on my neck, his teeth closing around my ear. The thick curls of his hair clenched between my fingers as my body bucked and rocked beneath him, screaming with ecstasy.

  My finger slipped into the curls between my thighs, touching my sex. I gasped. I pressed another finger inside the heat and moisture, remembering the way Fenris touched me. Tracing the path of his tongue the very first time we’d come together.

  “Fenris,” I whispered into the thick air of the Ironwood. “Oh, Fenris!”

  I opened my eyes to the dancing pattern of pale green leaves and black branches above me. My breath quickened as I pressed my fingers against my own sex, finding all the spots Fenris had first discovered. Trembling with pleasure, I turned back to the river, to that enormous boulder I’d recognized—

  I jumped as the jolt of recognition shot through me. Of course. This was our boulder, the half-submerged rock where I’d met Fenris at night. Where he’d pulled my skirts up and pressed me against the pebble-flecked granite, fucking me hard and fast. Where he’d left me a loaf of bread. With a sigh, I pulled my fingers from the warm embrace of my own sex and took a step closer to the rock. As I did, the ferns behind the rock shifted and danced.

  And a man emerged.

  My breath caught in my throat. He stood half-hidden in the ferns, so motionless he may as well have been carved of wood. His pale eyes blinked, and he tilted his head to the side as if he were trying to understand what he was watching. He wore no shirt, of course, and delicate black curls of hair lay scattered across the muscles of his chest.

  Muscles I knew very well.

  I met his fierce and feral gaze, then took a step closer to him. His hair spread over his shoulders, a dark amber like the last flash of life in a dying fire. And, stars, there was even a tiny green twig twisting in their strands.

  “Fenris,” I whispered.

  As I spoke, something shifted in the forest behind him. I glanced up. The Ironwood suddenly felt much darker. And colder.

  Something loomed in the woods behind Fenris, something as dark as the shadows beneath stone and so vast it towered above the waving treetops. For a moment, I could almost hear its low, deep, throbbing growl above the whispered susurrus of the leaves in the gentle breeze. It seemed to grow as I stared at it, swallowing my attention and burying it.

  Loki’s voice hissed in my ear. “Don’t think about—”

  I tore my attention away from the darkness and back to my husband’s face. He hadn’t moved, but his brow had folded into its familiar deep creases. I took another step closer to him, trying to remember what I’d said that very first day on the banks of the Lucky River.

  “Are...are you from the village?” I whispered.

  “No.” His voice sounded stiff and odd. “I am not from the village.”

  My mouth felt dry. I licked my lips, trying not to look at the looming darkness above Fenris’s beautiful body. I was naked, that was right, but hadn’t I been holding a rock in my fist?

  I flexed my fingers, feeling something hard and smooth pressed into my palm. Glancing down, I saw one of the river stones nestled against the pale skin of my fingers.

  “I—I’m not decent,” I said.

  Fenris’s eyes widened as his gaze dropped, traveling the curves of my naked body. I stood with my hands at my sides, my fingers relaxed around the river stone. I’d known his sweet body as well as I knew my own, during the days and weeks we’d spent wrapped in each other’s arms, the hours we’d spent gasping for breath, aching for the release we found in each other. I knew his scent, his taste, the way his sweat-slicked body felt beneath mine.

  But did he even recognize me?

  “You’re—” He paused, frowning. His pale eyes looked clouded, as if he wasn’t quite seeing what stood in front of him. “You’re quite beautiful.”

  I forced myself to swallow the pain of his words, his flat and empty tone. The total lack of recognition in his guarded, wary face.

  “What do you want?” I asked, forcing myself to stand up tall.

  The darkness behind Fenris surged forward, swallowing the trees behind him. My heart slammed against my chest and my legs prickled, as if they longed to run.

  “Want?” he echoed.

  Somewhere above him, a growl shook the treetops. I refused to look up, refused to acknowledge the swirling darkness surrounding my husband. Several brilliant emerald leaves drifted through the space between us, knocked free by the force of the beast devouring the trees.

  “A-Are you a demon?” I asked.

  “No. No, I’m—” His frown deepened until his entire face contorted with the effort. “I’m Fenris.”

  The monster roared again. This time, the soft moss beneath my feet trembled in response. I staggered forward, catching myself before I crashed into the trembling ferns surrounding Fenris’s body.

  Damn. I had laughed, hadn’t I? The naked madman who’d surprised me on the banks of the Lucky River had called himself Fenris, and I had laughed.

  I forced a breath through my dry lips. Stars, I’d never felt less like laughing in my life. I glanced up at Fenris, silently begging him for a flicker of recognition, a sign that he hadn’t forgotten me completely.

  His pale eyes met mine. A storm of strange emotions danced in their shadowed depths. His lips parted, then closed again. The delicate green twig in his curls bobbed as he dipped his head to the forest floor, almost in surrender. His weight shifted backward, toward the darkness beneath the forest, and the beast above him rumbled in satisfaction.

  No! No, stars damn it. Fenris was mine!

  “You can’t be,” I said, forcing myself to stand tall. “You’re just a boy.”

  He glanced up, staring at me in confusion. The barest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

  “A boy?”

  “You...” I stammered. My chest felt like I’d swallowed a live ember; my arms ached to touch him. I stood right in front of him, and it felt like he was still a Realm away!

  “You have a stick in your hair,” I finished.

  He caught my eye and smiled. My heart leapt, but I forced myself to wait. He reached up, smoothing his wild auburn curls.

  “No, your other side,” I said.

  He rocked forward, then stepped through the ferns until he stood just in front of me, so close that the space between our bodies hummed with heat and energy. He tilted his head, and the golden sunlight caught in his hair, illuminating the little twig until it seemed to glow from within. My vision wavered as a rush of tears welled behind my eyelids. I pushed them away, and I reached for my husband.

  He caught my wrist before I touched his hair. I had enough time to think that wasn’t quite it, I’d pulled the stick free from his curls when we first met, and then he closed his eyes and brought my wrist to his lips. He pressed his mouth against my skin.

  “I know you,” Fenris whispered.

  The beast above us screamed in a voice so high and shrill it was almost inaudible. Fenris turned toward me with an expression that looked like dawn spreading across the depths of Lake Amsvartnir.

  “Sol?”

  “I’m here,” I said, although my voice was half-choked by the tears swelling inside me.

  Fenris brought his lips back to my wrist and kissed me. His touch was as gentle as the brush of soft grass beneath bare feet, but it made my skin burn with a deep, aching need.

  “I don’t feel right,” Fenris said, haltingly. “Alone. Without you. I don’t—”

  The darkness swirled forward. I pulled him into my arms, away from the formless void beneath the trees.

  “My love!” I cried. “I’m here!”

  He opened his mouth again, and I covered his sweet lips with my own. Our kiss exploded inside my body, burning me with heat and crimson pleasure, awakening the incendiary need I’d felt every night without him, and every morning I’d awoke alone. The fear and loneliness and desperate, painful desire for my husband burned every fiber of my being, combusting
into an inferno of arousal so strong it swept us both away.

  I crashed backward, pulling Fenris with me as I devoured him with my kisses. He followed, his lips on mine, our tongues dancing together as his hands raced up my back and sank into my hair. The heat of his arousal pressed against me, the long, curved rod of his manhood squeezed between our bodies.

  No! Even that was too much distance between us. I needed him now, inside of me, thrusting deep, fucking me hard. I lifted my leg, wrapped my ankle around his waist, and stumbled backward toward the boulder. Fenris crashed into me, his mouth pressed to mine so tightly I could feel the ridges of his teeth behind his lips.

  Something cold and rough pressed into my back. I thrust against it, tilting my hips up to meet the strength of Fenris’s body. He growled, then sank his fingers into my thighs, pulling me up. My skin sang with pain as he yanked me across the abrasive surface of our boulder and sank the full length of his cock into me. The pleasure of his touch obliterated everything else.

  I opened my eyes, gasping for breath. He felt so damned good inside me! For a moment I couldn’t believe we’d ever been able to do anything other than this, this magic, this dance between our bodies. Fenris’s features slowly came into focus above me. He was staring at me with his wide, pale eyes. And smiling. Stars, he was smiling!

  Behind him, brilliant green leaves fluttered against a fathomless blue sky. The darkness that had swirled through the air above him was gone.

  “Sol,” he said breathlessly. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” I gasped.

  He laughed, a high, clear laugh that rang out across the dream forest, and then he crushed me to his arms, pressing my body between the heat of his and the cold stone of our boulder. His lips found mine again, and we surrendered to the oblivion of each other, pressing our mouths together as if mimicking the union of our lovemaking. By the time we broke for breath, his hips were rippling against mine, the slow motion of his body filling me with a deep pleasure so intense it was almost pain.

  “Oh, Sol,” he moaned.

  His back arched as he buried his face in my hair.