Bjorn Cursed

by N. J. Walters

  “You’re immortal?” Bjorn asked.

  “I am. As are you, it seems.” He stared at his father.

  “When I found your mother and you, your brother and sister, I cried out to the gods in fury. Odin answered.”

  “You’re a werewolf?”

  “I am the first. All came from me. Those I bit in the early years that survived were changed. I had no control, only a lust for blood and death.”

  Sven tensed, his hand inching toward the axe.

  “He was cursed,” she added, knowing Bjorn would not defend himself or his actions. “Odin cursed him to do what those who’d slain us had done. He had no choice but to slay all those who killed us.” She paused and swallowed heavily. “And their families.”

  Bjorn hung his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “It was a compulsion I could not stop. Finally, I gained control with the help of others.”

  “What others?” Sven asked.

  She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. It was difficult to reconcile the boy who’d run behind the man, peppering him with questions, always wanting to be just like him, with the hard warrior he’d become. They were like two peas in a pod.

  “The Forgotten Brotherhood. We’re not the things that go bump in the night. We’re the creatures that scare the things that go bump in the night.”

  And speaking of the Brotherhood. “We need to contact them, tell Morrigan the prophecy has come true.”

  “Who is Morrigan?” Sven’s hand tightened around the axe. Anja backed away to give him some space.

  “Morrigan is a former bounty hunter for Hell and mate to Maccus Fury, fallen angel.”

  “She’s also an oracle,” Anja added.

  Her son’s frown deepened. “You are consorting with Christians?”

  Bjorn laughed. “Our kind feared me. Our gods abandoned me. Maccus reached out to me. Only he was unafraid.”

  “He must be unintelligent then, for our gods are greater.”

  Laughing, Bjorn reached out and snagged her around the waist, tugging her down onto his lap. Sven’s knuckles turned white. Even now, he didn’t completely trust them.

  “Boy, Maccus was tossed out of Heaven and landed in Hell. He was there for thousands of years, one among a host of enemies. Finally, Lucifer, the King of Hell, booted him out, fearing him. I wouldn’t call him unintelligent to his face if you wish to see another sunrise.”

  Sven nodded. “So these friends of yours are powerful. They can help.”

  “Maybe. For all we are, we are not gods. Where’s my phone?” he asked.

  She reached into her short leather boot and pulled it out. “Maccus won’t be happy.”

  “He’s never happy.” He set the phone on the table and called, putting it on speaker so she could hear.

  “I’m going to fucking kill you,” the deep voice promised.

  Sven jumped to his feet, axe ready to repel any threat.

  “I love you, too,” Bjorn shot back.

  Sven glanced from his father to the phone and then looked to her. She simply shrugged. What could she say about their relationship? It was odd and volatile, but Maccus had their backs when they’d needed help.

  “What happened?” It was Morrigan who spoke.

  “Freya knows about Anja’s absence and sent her hunter, her immortal enforcer to bring her back to face judgment.”

  “You killed the fucker, right?” All she could do was roll her eyes. The man did see the world in black and white.

  “No.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because he’s my son.”

  Dead silence. For once, Maccus had no quick comeback.

  “It’s the prophecy,” she interjected into the lull. “Just as you said, but we interpreted your words to be the sun in the sky, not our actual son.”

  “I thought you said he’d been reborn.” Morrigan seemed shocked.

  “That is what I was told, what I believed.”

  “Can you trust him?” Maccus asked. “Son or not, he belongs to a goddess.”

  “I belong to myself. And to my family. My memories that were hidden are now clear.”

  “That’s fine and dandy and really convenient.”

  Sven’s expression was fierce. “I will kill you for that.”

  Maccus laughed. “Get in line, boy. Badder than you want my head on a platter.”

  Sven frowned, as though uncertain. She imagined this might be the first time someone didn’t fear him.

  “How do we fight this?” Bjorn asked. “I’m not losing my family. Not again.”

  “We will come to you. But first I need to make some calls.”

  “Is this about that help you said you might be able to get?”

  “Maybe. Stay alive until we get there.” The line went dead. Bjorn turned off his phone.

  “That is your friend?”

  Bjorn grinned. “Maccus is an acquired taste, but he’s proven himself, been there when I needed him.” He looked at her. “When we needed him.”

  Anja raised her hand to her face but couldn’t stifle her yawn. The adrenaline that had kept her going for so long had dissipated, leaving her physically exhausted. Emotionally, she was spent, having run the gamut from love and lust to fear and anger to despair and hope.

  Her men might be immortal, but she was not. Truthfully, she didn’t know what she was. Not dead anymore. Living on borrowed time. It was all so confusing.

  “You need to rest.” Bjorn brushed his hand over her hair and kissed her temple. She rested her head on his shoulder and snuggled against his bare chest, content to remain where she was.

  “In a bit.” She didn’t want to leave either of them for fear they’d disappear or be hurt. She couldn’t seem to stop staring at Sven. The potential she’d always seen had been fulfilled in ways she couldn’t have imagined. He was smart, loyal, determined, and physically gifted with traits that made him an exceptional warrior. Freya had taken all that and turned him into her personal weapon.

  “Promise me you’ll stay.” His word wouldn’t be something given lightly. There was no way she’d rest unless he swore an oath.

  Sven gave her a curt nod. “I’ll stay. Unless Freya calls me home. If I do not answer her summons, she will suspect something. I will allow no harm to come to you.”

  “You being hurt would be worse than death for me. Remember that.”

  She blinked several times, but her eyes were too heavy to keep open. When she gave another yawn, they drifted shut. With her husband’s arms around her and her son’s voice lulling her, she let go and embraced sleep.

  …

  “She’s finally out.” Bjorn kissed the top of her head. “We’ve been on the run since I stumbled across her.”

  “How did she escape the afterlife?” Sven didn’t take his eyes off his mother.

  “She didn’t. She remembers working and then being in a void, a nothingness, before ending up in an alley in New York City.”

  Sven frowned. “A void? Only the gods can take something through a void. Even I need Freya’s blessing to come here when it is time for me to do her bidding. I cannot just leave when I wish.”

  “We suspect Loki.”

  “But why? That makes no sense. Taking someone from the afterlife and setting them back in the time continuum will anger all the gods.”

  Bjorn inhaled deeply, his chest filling with pride. His son was an exceptional fighter, but he used his intellect.

  “It’s because of the Forgotten Brotherhood.”

  “The group you’re part of?”

  “Yes. Lucifer has it out for Maccus, but he can no longer go after him personally.”

  “Why not?”

  “Long story. But, since Maccus is untouchable, some of the rest of us have had trouble. We suspect Lucifer struck a deal with Loki. That w
ay he can honestly say he didn’t bring her here, didn’t tamper with another pantheon, but the results are the same.”

  “Clever.”

  “Very. We’re all of us powerful, but they’re still gods. Or as powerful as one in Lucifer’s case.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  Bjorn stared into his son’s eyes and saw the same pain and determination reflected back. In this, they were of one mind. “Whatever it takes.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Anja was warm and cozy and safe. Embracing the rare sensation, she curled her bare toes into the soft mattress.

  And bolted upright in bed.

  “What?” Bjorn surged to his feet, claws extended, scanning the room for any threat.

  “You’re here. It wasn’t all a dream.”

  His harsh features softened. His claws retracted. “No, my love, it wasn’t a dream.”

  “Sven.” She started to scramble out of bed, but he lay back down and pulled her into his warm embrace.

  “He’s outside on patrol. Said he needed some time to think.” Bjorn brushed his lips over the top of her head. “Like you, he has to reconcile his past to his present.”

  She wanted to run to her son, to make sure he was real and not a figment of her imagination, but forced herself to settle back into her husband’s arms. Sven was no longer a boy, but a man who’d lived for centuries, serving as an enforcer for a goddess.

  “Why do you think Freya did that to him? She promised me.” And the gods were supposed to keep their vows.

  He ran his hands up and down her back and arms, the motion calming. “She would see it as keeping her vow, as an honor. And Sven challenged her when he said he would remember you.”

  He’d been such a stubborn boy. He definitely got that from his father. Not her. She rubbed her nose against her husband’s bare chest. Okay, maybe some of it was from her. The light smattering of hair there tickled. “I fell asleep at the table.” And time was such a precious commodity, one people bartered with little thought. It was only when it ran out that a person truly understood its value. Each moment with her family was more valuable than gold.

  “I carried you to bed.” He nuzzled her neck. Goosebumps scattered down her arms. “It was no hardship.”

  “I seem to be naked. I distinctly remember being clothed.”

  “I wanted you to be comfortable.” He cupped her ass in his hands and squeezed. “Are you comfortable?”

  Her hardened nipples pressed against his muscular chest. Her sex throbbed. “That’s not the word I’d use.” Her voice was breathy. She curled her fingers into his massive biceps. He’d always been strong, but it was difficult to comprehend the strength at his disposal now that he had a wolf inside him.

  “What word would you use?” He eased her onto her back and lowered himself over her, supporting himself on his forearms.

  She ran the tips of her fingers over the dark lines of tattoos covering part of his face. Turning his head, he playfully nipped her fingers. Laughter tumbled from her, free and easy.

  Then he caught one of her fingers between his lips and sucked. Her laughter quickly turned to a moan of desire. When he dragged his teeth over her skin, the sensual tingles radiated all the way to her core. To ease the growing ache, she arched her hips and rubbed against his hard shaft.

  “Aroused.” She licked her lips. “Wet.”

  He slipped his hand between their bodies and tested her opening. “Not wet enough.”

  “Bjorn.” When it came to sex, he was a man of many moods. Hard and fast, at times, driving them both into a frenzy. But sometimes he’d drag it out, teasing her endlessly until she was ready to scream.

  “Hmm. I’m busy.” He pushed one thick finger inside her, then he added a second.

  Her nails scored his shoulders, leaving marks. She tilted her head back and sucked in a breath. Even after all this time and separation, the spark was still there. No one made her heart beat as fast or her body yearn as deeply.

  A low growl vibrated through her as he raked his teeth over her shoulder. Not his regular ones, but razor-sharp fangs. The tips teased her skin, stimulating the nerves beneath. It was shockingly arousing and had her nipples hard as pebbles.

  She turned her head to the side, giving him unobstructed access. “More.” She wanted all of him, every part.

  He pulled his fingers out, hovering at the edge of her opening before plunging them deep. “I want to eat you up.”

  A shiver of awareness flowed through her. Oh yeah, she wanted that, too. She ran her hands over his flanks and gripped his ass. It was muscular and full. “I want my turn.” She’d always loved bringing him pleasure.

  His big body shuddered. “Later. I need to taste you.” He worked his way down her body, pausing at her breasts, licking and stroking both until they ached. Knowing how it drove her wild, he paid special attention to the tiny birthmark beneath her left one.

  Whenever they touched, a sense of urgency drove them, an unnamed fear that this might be their last time. Every sensation was heightened, every emotion deeper.

  The slight abrasiveness of his beard, the roughness of his fingertips trailing over her skin made her breath catch in her throat. He was all hard muscle and toughness. But it protected a huge heart that had been hurting for far too long.

  She swallowed back the tears and touched him wherever she could reach. His scalp had always been sensitive but seemed even more so now. When she dragged her nails over it, he gave a low growl of pleasure.

  When he finally settled himself between her thighs, she was panting and aching, more than ready to take him inside her. “No more.” She tugged on his shoulders, trying to pull him up.

  “I haven’t even started.” Every part of her body quivered at the sensual promise.

  “I need you. Now.”

  “You’ll have me. After you’ve come.”

  He dragged his tongue over the slick folds. A low moan broke from her. Her breasts ached so much she covered them with her hands, the tight nubs stabbing at her palms.

  “Shh, you must stay quiet or you may bring Sven to check on us. I know not how acute his hearing is, but I imagine it has been enhanced.”

  Oh gods, she hadn’t even considered that. Biting her lower lip, she nodded. Her entire body jerked when he licked at her clit, the pleasure fanning out and vibrating through her entire being.

  It was torture of the sweetest kind. She wanted to yell, to scream, to moan as each touch of his tongue and lips and fingers was meant to incite, to tantalize. In an effort to get him to push his fingers deeper into her core, she rolled her hips. He continued to tease the edges of her entrance, dipping in enough to make her sweat before pulling back. Her inner muscles clenched around nothing but air.

  “Bjorn.” She wanted to come with him inside, with them joined as closely as two people could be. “I need you.”

  His eyes glowed with passion, his expression almost feral. “Soon,” he promised before he sucked on the tiny nub of nerves.

  I’m going to scream.

  Desperate, she grabbed a nearby pillow and dragged it over her face, the sounds she was making mostly smothered. Her legs quivered. Her arms shook. Heat enveloped her, swallowing her whole as she strove for release. There was no holding back, both of them pushed toward the end.

  Her sex clenched and then rippled. Yes! Just as she started to cry out his name, he ripped the pillow away and slammed his mouth over hers, swallowing her scream of pleasure.

  In the midst of the sweeping orgasm, he nudged her legs wider, positioned his cock at her entrance, and drove home. At the sudden invasion, she cried out again, the sound muffled as he continued to kiss her. It was raw and real. His tongue plunged past her lips, and the tip of one sharp tooth nicked her lip, drawing blood. He groaned and licked the tiny wound.

  His thick shaft pulsed inside her as her she
ath rippled around him. His balls rested against her, full and taut. It was as perfect as a joining could be. He raised his head and snarled, sounding more wolf than man, struggling to maintain control.

  She rested her hand against his beloved face. “Don’t stop. Love me.”

  …

  Bjorn shook his head, not in denial, but to gain some semblance of control. The taste of Anja’s passion was sweet on his tongue. His lips and short beard were damp from her juices.

  Watching her come, swallowing her cries of pleasure made him feel ten feet tall and totally invincible, as though he could take on the gods and win.

  Whatever happened, he wouldn’t live without her. Not again.

  He struggled to keep from coming, an almost impossible task with her sex squeezing his dick so hard he was practically seeing stars. His balls were near to bursting. He could stay like this forever, intimately joined, on the edge of release.

  He’d never felt closer to her than he did at this moment when she offered him whatever he wanted.

  With his forehead pressed against hers, he closed his eyes, savoring each tiny contraction of her sheath, the heat rising from her skin, the dampness of her core, the tautness of his arm muscles as he held himself still.

  It was an intimate snapshot, a mental picture he would have forever.

  “What is it?”

  He shook his head and peered down at the love shining in her eyes. “I can’t lose you.” He should have kept his mouth shut and not invited their problems into their bed.

  Her hands pressed against his face, warm and tender. “No matter what happens, you cannot lose me. You never did.” She lowered one hand until it rested over his heart. “I am always here, always with you, my love eternal.”

  The truth of it slammed into him. The muscles in his arms quivered. His arms went weak and he dropped onto her. She caught him, holding him close, sheltering him. Only with her could he be vulnerable, show weakness.

  It was the greatest gift of her love.

  He summoned his strength and pushed up onto one arm. “I love only you. Now and forever.” His words burned in his heart and branded his soul. The gods could do what they may, but his love would never die.