Keeper of the Norns Page 5

  All I could do was blink while processing the fact that I had probably just fucked it all up.

  She was going to go back and tell Thorne that I manhandled her, I thought to myself.

  I closed my eyes and apologetically brushed my thumb over her pulse point. While I was lost in my own inward cursing, the pressure shifted against my hand. Before I could articulate that the woman was leaning into my clutch, her lips seized mine. They were as soft and full as they looked but nowhere near as yielding. Her fingers stroked my hair the same way I had her neck, before she claimed a handful and gave a little jerk.

  My eyes widened, and I sucked in a breath, wrangling with the reality that no other woman had dared attempt to return my style of aggressive affections. Those blazing golden hues never dismissed me. Teeth raked over my lower lip before she promptly suckled it. It was erotic and unnerving. So much so, that I hadn’t realized she had already dismissed my mouth. She watched me, rubbing her lips together and gnawing absently on the bottom one as if my taste still clung to her.

  “You should listen to the mortals more,” she mused, adding pressure to my hand “Don’t introduce things you don’t intend to use, lest they be used against you.”

  I was so lost watching her lips that I likely went cross eyed when she formed that last word. A jerk lit up the base of my scalp. It made my cock harder than life itself. I have no explanations, nor will I ever admit to such, but when I felt her finger tips trail from my hair down my back, panic sent my lips back to hers. I didn’t want to break this… whatever unfamiliar delicacy this was. I wasn’t ready to let her go! It fucking pained my very existence when her fingertips abandoned my sides and all I was left with was a wink.

  I felt robbed!

  Thorne

  The day was young, the sun had yet to hit its mid-morning mark. A blessing, as far as I was concerned. It meant the belly of the tavern was dark and damp still. The chill that kept the more easily offended of our patrons at bay was perfect for my solace. If one could look past the stale scent of ale and berserkers who hadn’t been to bed yet, it was pretty peaceful.

  “Alexavier,” I called lazily. “Get the fuck down here. Give an old man company. Your brooding over her absence isn’t going to make her magically appear any faster.”

  The stairs were noisily assaulted by his weight. Moments later, my scowling younger brother erupted through the side door without the pretense of grace. He stomped over to the barstool beside me and parked himself upon it with enough irritation to make the damn thing bark back at him.

  “Ale,” he impatiently stressed while slapping his hand on the counter.

  “Keep on in that fashion and they’re gonna think Thane’s back,” I groaned. It wasn’t often he presented as such. Alexavier was easy to like, so I wasn’t sure who the moody prick beside me was.

  He stared at his reflection in the mirror across from us and worked on his frown.

  The double doors at the other end of the tavern swung open, announcing Thane and Zhenni’s return. They stood silhouetted for a moment, with Thane poised like he was saluting.

  “By the Gods, are you bastards trying to hibernate in here… Is there something personal going on back there? Should we come back at a later time?”

  “Fuck you,” I sang, tipping my head back. I laughed and hopped off the wooden stool to welcome him back. The smile plastered on Thane’s face spoke volumes about their victory. There would be time for that. Feasting. Celebration. Gods, when had I smiled like this last?

  I picked him up and twirled the proud little fucker around in a congratulatory hug. He squirmed and shoved back against me. I assumed it was because I was embarrassing him in front of Zhenni, until he gasped in air and landed a halfhearted thump to my lower back. Thane may not have my size, but he is as mean as the night is long when it comes to fighting.

  I jerked toward him from the assaulted side and shoved him away with a what the fuck look.

  “It isn’t over,” he snarled.

  “You’re here, bloodied and grinning like Fenrir. What the fuck do you mean, it isn’t over?” He was so fucking dramatic. I cocked my head back and smiled only to chuff noisily at him when he wouldn’t stop glaring. It was what my wife had once called the fuck off smile. I had mastered it in childhood, so he knew at once what I was saying, even though I wasn’t interested in lending air to the words.

  “She didn’t get close enough to spit on, let alone defeat,” Thane recounted. His mood soured with each detail. “The moment Zhenni squared up, her brave facade burst. Of course, she turned it into some intended fancy farewell…”

  It was Thane I counted on, to make the best humor out of the worst times. Like now, standing there with his face skewed and his fist pumping crudely in front of his waist. I should have scolded him for talking so in front of a Goddess, but I was so happy to see them both returned—and besides, who the fuck could stay serious with this fool?

  We walked side by side back toward Alexavier, while Zhenni lingered behind, regarding us with a raised brow. An ale was laid on the counter and I used the side of my hand to swoop it toward him. Once he saddled onto the seat, I clasped his shoulder and winked toward Zhenni.

  I had intended to walk past her and make my way upstairs, but instead my breath and limbs froze. I was stuck; staring and looking stupid.

  A thin layer of red-tinged mud was caked proudly over the side of her face. It had happened. We had really done it.

  Chapter Nine

  Heathen Handler

  Alexavier

  She was back! How many silent oaths had I sworn in her absence? It didn’t matter. I sighed, soaking up every moment I could before reality kicked me in the dick. There was work to do. I killed what was left of my ale and tapped the counter to express my gratitude. The bartender might have been as cursed as the rest of us, but he was a saint for putting up with me and my brothers. Especially in such trying times.

  I wove my way around Thorne and Zhenni, almost making it to the shadows before tension rung through the length of my braid. It rocked my head back. When I turned into it, the braid wrapped with me. It caused the pleated hair to prickle against my throat, irritating me to no end. Or so I thought, until my own torment ended against her lips. She lingered, savoring the sensation as much as I, from what I could tell. When her forehead tipped against mine, a smile split my features that the Gods themselves couldn’t have pried off.

  “Where are you going?” She injected just enough of a playful displeasure into her voice to compel a man’s answer. Especially when it was accompanied by the sight of a woman who knew how to wield her own weapon. I shook my head at her antics and studied her for a moment, taking my time to memorize her just as she was. Fresh, returned from her first victory. Even if defeat had been denied, she had faced her opponent and came home proud.

  “We can’t sit around celebrating forever, my Goddess. I am the weaver of the future. It is up to me to see where Life will throw us next. Thane and Thorne, I am sure, will be eager to go over battle strategy and tactics.”

  They looked around as if I had announced something truly profound. My entire face drained of both hope and humor before I gave up and stomped upstairs. I was the youngest. Wasn’t the youngest supposed to be the carefree, irresponsible one?

  I watched her from the shadows of the balcony as I made my way toward the corner. She was the Goddess of Love and War, but for a moment, she was just one of us. Laughing and sipping in the shadows. It was a terrific feeling.

  Thane

  Alexavier was right, we really should have been getting to the training. She had been fierce and formidable in appearance, but even little brother hadn’t been able to predict what would happen if she had been forced to use her steel. I tipped my chin up in farewell to the barkeep and nudged her arm.

  An unexpected swat to the back of my head made my teeth quietly click together. I turned around, shock and amusement warring over my features.

  “Really?” I laughed.

  She s
norted as if we were old friends and brushed past me without another look. Thorne gave a provocative laugh and hitched both brows up along with a million unspoken taunts.

  I squinted with one eye and let my hand slide beyond my belt. His crude laughter chased the gesture and my exit.

  By the time I found her, she was standing in the center of an empty corral. If she saw what the fuck belonged in that pen, she would likely never come out of the tavern again. I marched into the center with her, watching on as she gripped the lengthy sword and hefted it about between her palms. She stared at it like the foreign object that it likely was to her.

  “Of all the things…” she whispered, staring down the length of it. “How do they get them so straight?”

  The steel wavered, as she tried to keep it steady with one arm. Her bicep shook, and the heavy weapon tilted awkwardly until the tip of it bit the soil. A hint of rose crept over her cheeks.

  “I guess I have a lot of practicing to do,” she mumbled.

  I rubbed the back of my neck and offered a meek smile. “Not all warriors use swords. I mean, most can use just about anything with a blade by the time they get here… ”I closed my eyes unsure why I bothered trying to speak at all sometimes. “I learned to fight with an axe,” I redirected.

  “An axe?”

  I shifted my eyes around and attempted to silently remind her of her whereabouts. Nastrond was, after all, a Viking afterworld; she would be hard pressed to find herself a knight in shining tin britches around here.

  She sighed. “Right.”

  I felt like an asshole. I had sucked her confidence dry without even trying.

  “If you had, had an axe today instead of a sword, that kill would have been yours,” I pointed out. Instead of the conversation I had hoped to invoke, I was met with fluttered brows.

  “I don’t want to kill people,” she quietly, but firmly reminded me.

  Yep, there I went. I moved my lips and fucked things up. Again. I gently took the weapon from her, knowing the ache it provoked when one overdid themselves with it.

  I thrust my arms out in either direction, holding the still bloodied sword out with the ease of an eating utensil. “Look darlin, if you can’t fuck ‘em, then smite ‘em and leave the death dealing to those of us who worship you.”

  “Worship me,” she scoffed.

  Confirmation rang primally in my throat, and I stepped past her. Dropping the sword, I jerked the axe off my belt and held it out in offering.

  “You speak of such a thing as if it is familiar to you.” Zhenni sang.

  My eyes snapped up like I’d been challenged.

  Her lips split into the sultriest of smiles and she snatched the axe from me with a knowing nod. “I suspected as much.” She mused. Her fingers wrapped around the handle and she gave a practice swing. I stepped back with a yell, certain that she would land on it or bury it in herself with the momentum.

  “Easy!” I squealed, hopping back toward her. I wrapped my arms around her like she required restraint and rested my forehead on her shoulder while aligning my arms with her own. “A little enthusiasm is great, but a lot can get you killed.”

  Once we had the right grip, I gave her a few pointers on putting her weight behind it. She was a natural. Each time she swung, the air parted with a vicious hiss. I taught her to split wood, and we soon perfected her downward attack and a few other maneuvers. She had many options to choose from, but the truth was, anyone could swing a stick. How would she do when someone was swinging back, or the target was moving?

  “Take a shield,” I called, pointing to the ones hanging on the side of the fence. They were rickety and poorly made. Likely used for practice, but they would serve our purpose.

  I took up the sword and grabbed a shield for myself.

  “Okay…” I said, taking a deep breath. I turned with the shield held out, but before I could say anything further about juggling it with her axe, she hurled it at me. It imbedded in the shield and left me shrieking while she grunted to retrieve it.

  “Zhen…” I managed, before the thing was hauled back and I was shoved. I landed on my ass, unable for a fraction of a second to articulate anything further. Her shadow chased me. I instinctively braced myself for the inevitable, hovering in a squat with my shield over my head. Her blade loudly bit the wood and I swerved from beneath it.

  “ZHENNI,” I barked loudly.

  Her eyes widened, and the axe fell from her hands. “I… are you okay?” she stammered. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  Hurt. Me. I blinked and processed what she had said. I was put on my ass. By a woman. A woman who had never fought a battle in her life.

  Zhenni

  I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say, but whatever I said had struck a nerve. His jaw set and something flashed behind his baby blue hues. Rather than take my hand he rocked himself to his feet and dusted off his trousers.

  “Cheaply played,” he quipped, in a low voice. “Try it when a man is actually ready and see what happens.”

  He took his distance, but rather than take up his shield, he began to twirl the sword like a stunt man. There! There was the Thane that stalked and stroked my very last nerve. I sprinted toward him as if I were affected by his taunting but stopped some ten-feet away and brought the axe back like I intended to try my hand at throwing it. He abandoned his sword and dove for the shield.

  “Zhenni!” I paid no mind to his wailing, the axe was tossed and sailed somewhere off to the side near his discarded sword. I scampered after him and offered my hand.

  Fingers curled about my own and tension shot through my arm. I sprawled atop him with a startled yelp. It was cut short when the ground met my back and he pinned my wrist above my head. A storm thundered in the depths of his eyes. His every breath channeled against my chest.

  “You’re fucking crazy, do you know that?” He laughed. He was right. I was crazy, and the undeniable bulge that was wedged against me, wasn’t helping my madness. At. All.

  Adrenaline coursed through me until all I could feel was the rise and fall of his chest and the seal of our bodies. He had long since stretched the frustration and struggle out of me, but I wasn’t about to object to still being stretched beneath him. He hadn’t moved. It was I who wasn’t able to be still any longer.

  I rolled my hips against him and arched my back ever so subtly. His knee slid up, forcing my body into a controlled spread. He still didn’t budge, and that weight of his offered no mercy toward the need he toyed with.

  He kept staring into my eyes like he was leery of being tricked. The way he looked at me would have unnerved me when we first met; it felt like he was slowly inspecting my soul. But now… I found myself craving it. His hands stroked me from either side, and up the center of my back, before he curled me up to straddle him.

  Whatever he was looking for, I supposed he had found. His stubble brushed against my cheek and his lips skimmed beneath my ear. It wasn’t a kiss. I was being inhaled. Was this Norn really sniffing me like he had four legs? Before I could verbalize my outrage, his hands were on either side of my face, and his lips were apologizing. Firm, unrushed kisses, that scaled my neck while his fingers worked with a feather’s grace to dismiss my leather armor. It seemed like magic and was off with a few plucked strings. His hands grazed down my sides. I shrugged one shoulder and the next to rid myself of the garment. It only served to restrain my arms when his impatience won out. Before it could be slipped down to my elbow, he hooked his thumbs into my pants and gave a jerk that stole my balance.

  They were rolled, removed, and I was pinned again in one swift gesture. It was clearly something he done many times. My legs V’ed against his chest and his lips hovered over mine. He had freed his cock, leaving its intimidating length to tease against me. I tore free of the vest and wrapped my arms around his neck about the same time that he jostled me, introducing the pressure of his cock to my cunt. I gasped in a breath, and he wrestled to call it back. He sucked and smothered my lips until they felt
swollen from his affection.

  His hips jerked, and I moaned, tilting my head back to appreciate the sensation while he focused on the show between us. His thrusting was forceful and deep. His heavy hands swam over my shoulders and lower back, occasionally getting lost in my hair while the other grew possessive with my ass. Each time it was clutched and jerked back toward him, my breath was taken away. He chased me toward a release that had the back of my knees clinging to his shoulders, only to back off and worship my throat.

  I gyrated against him, searching for that deep, piercing pleasure, but he pulled my hair back in denial. Need throbbed through me, driving me to grind and twist against him. I threw myself back, balancing my weight on my arms, and plunged myself down the length of him. There was no recourse. I held it there and ground until my eyes rolled back. Tension lit up my scalp, and I grew louder with each wrangled breath. His knees suddenly parted like the sea, and the cock I held captive, began to knock back. It answered the throbbing but didn’t stop there. My legs shook until I couldn’t feel them. My back muscles tightened, arching me in a way that left him grabbing my hips and pulling me tighter.

  When I opened my eyes again, everything hurt. Thane was sprawled atop me. His fingers slowly loosed and combed through my hair.

  “I’m sorry...if I hurt you…” he murmured before stiffening and reflecting on his words. Laughter bubbled from me, and I elbowed him before slowly trying to untangle myself.

  “Get dressed, before I decide to kick your ass again.” I reminded him.

  Chapter Ten

  Time’s Up

  Thorne

  Alexavier groaned from upstairs, I could hear him grumbling, but I couldn’t really make out what he was saying. I killed my ale and started for the stairs. His chair screeched in protest as he scooted away from the quilt. His eyes met mine and an odd smirk tipped his features.