Death's Gift: Norse Blessed Book One

by B. Livingstone

  “I promise you, Jimmy,” looking back at Riley, “that won’t be an issue. Will it, Riley?”

  She rubs her snout along my arm, confirming her agreement.

  “Very good then. Are you well enough to travel to my home tonight? It’s a couple of hours from here on foot and the terrain is a bit rough.”

  Riley gives me a nudge with her head. “We can head out.”

  “Okay then. Let’s head out and tomorrow you can give me the unabridged version of this story.”

  A firm hold shakes my shoulder as a low baritone voice cuts through the haze of another dream. “Grace, wake up, Love.”

  I roll to my side, within the confines of Baler’s warm embrace and catch the concerned look on his face. “What’s wrong?” I ask him.

  “You were crying, Love.”

  I reach up and feel the tears still dampening my cheek. “Oh,” is my only reply.

  “Grace, Darling. Tell me what you were dreaming about.”

  “Jimmy,” I whisper. “I was dreaming about the first time Riley and I met Jimmy in the cave we were camped in after we ran from our home pack. He was such a good man. Took us in, no questions asked. Yes, he wanted to know what had happened and when he found out, he was livid, but I genuinely believe had we told him we didn’t want to discuss it, he would have still taken us in regardless. That was the kind of man he was.” A fresh wave of sadness washes through me and another tear escapes my eyes. “I miss him. He was a second father to me after mine was taken when I was only ten years old.”

  Baler’s arms tighten around me and he snuggles down into the bed beside me, pulling me into his side to rest my head on his chest. Safe within his bubble of strength and comfort. “Do you want to tell me about Jimmy?”

  I know I can tell him, and he won’t judge me if I break. So, I do. I tell him about our first meeting, arriving at the pack, traveling to the States with Jimmy to meet the native tribes in Washington. I tell him how Jimmy homeschooled us through graduation. Then, how he insisted on giving us the normal college experience, moving us to Vancouver and paying our tuition in full, about the trusts he set up to ensure every expense was taken care of no matter what happened to him.

  Tears begin to flow freely down my cheeks, soaking into the robe he still wears from our bath the night before. “When I was seventeen, my premonition dreams became more vivid and intense. I had this one recurring dream about a pack I had never met. It was unlike anything I had seen prior. Violent, depraved, calculated. A massacre,” I whisper, my voice breaking on the last word.

  Baler lets me break as the visions of that dream replay in my mind. How the feelings of helplessness and grief suffocated me then and now. I could feel my wolf’s grief deep in my soul for her lost kin in my memory. It was surprising, but not unwelcoming, feeling another’s presence inside me. It was also what I needed to bring myself back to the present and regain control of my emotions.

  “Jimmy hunted for the pack in my dream for a long time. By the time he gained a solid lead on their whereabouts, it was too late. The massacre had happened, and someone had already laid the dead to rest. That was when the true implications of my dreams began to hit home. There was nothing I could really do to change the future, the only thing I could do was try to prepare for the fallout.”

  Throughout this whole retelling, Baler just holds me. Every once in a while, when things become too heavy, he squeezes me to him tighter, lending me his strength and filling me with comfort. My wolf revels in the feel of his hands on my body, as the mating bond binds us closer together.

  Shit. I bit him last night. I need to talk to him about that. Is he going to hate me for that?

  Mate. My wolf whispers in my mind.

  I know he’s our mate, but I didn’t talk to him about binding him to us.

  Mate. She repeats as if that one word fixes it all.

  You’re helpless. Not everything is black and white, you know.

  Mate loves us.

  “Grace, what’s going on inside that head of yours?”

  My head tilts back to study Baler’s expression as I tell him, “I bit you.”

  His eyes widen, a look of shock, concern, and worry crosses his face. “Oh.” He takes a deep breath before trucking on. “Do you regret it?”

  I pull back from Baler’s embrace and sit up against the headboard, pulling my knees to my chest. Baler sits up, coming to a stop on the edge, his hands on his knees as though he’s about to leave. “It’s okay, Grace. I understand.”

  “You understand what?”

  “You don’t want to bind yourself to someone you’ll have to leave. You have a destiny outside of this place, and I can’t go with you. We’ll talk to Odin and find out how to fix this.” His voice is filled with longing and pain. His hand comes up to rest on the mating mark I left on his neck.

  Before he can think to get up and leave, I move behind him and wrap my arms tight around his body and rest my chin on his shoulder. “Baler, you’re an idiot,” I say flatly. He stiffens under my hold. “I love you, Baler. I have since the first time you kicked my ass in training. That bright, light smile you gave me as you goaded me into another fight; it’s addicting. Baler, I’m not worried about leaving you behind because it’s not going to happen. Odin already assured me that.”

  “What?” he whispers.

  “Yes, yesterday.” I shuffle back a little so Baler can turn and look at me. “Before we broke the curse, when Odin came up to me and placed his fingers against my temple, I had a premonition of my future, for the first time in months. I saw my mates, Baler. You, Killian, the twins, Jameson and Paxton, and someone I haven’t met yet. I was worried about breaking the curse because doing so would trigger the ability to form mating bonds. That would have meant as soon as it broke, my connection to you would grow and the urge to mate with you would become all consuming. He knew how conflicted I felt in that moment and when he said he would fix it, that meant he would fix this so I wouldn’t lose you when this was all said and done. I wouldn’t have to leave you behind.”

  I can see the wheels turning in Baler’s mind. Replaying the events of last night, each conversation and discussion. “Then why did you react the way you did when I asked you if you regretted marking me?” There was so much hurt behind his eyes. Oh Gods, he thinks I’m rejecting him.

  “Baler,” I reach forward and take his hands in mine and wait for him to look me in the eye. “I do not regret marking you. I regret not talking to you about it first and giving you a choice. Instead, I forced an irreversible bond on you. Now, you’re stuck with me. So, please, do not think for a second that I regret choosing you. I love you, Baler.”

  Baler pulls me forward by our linked hands. In a split second, he’s dropped them, snakes his arms around my waist and is pulling me to him, chest to chest. The next thing I know his mouth is on mine and he’s kissing me with unabashed fervor.

  He kisses me breathless, literally. By the time he pulls back, my lungs are screaming for oxygen and we’re both panting for breath. My wolf is doing backflips of joy at being claimed by her mate in that way. That was what that kiss was; a fierce, no-questions-about-it, claim. “I do not for a second regret your mark, Little Valkyrie.”

  Before I can reply, his lips are on mine again but this time he’s moving us, laying me back so he can hover over me, resting most of his weight on one elbow near the side of my head. His other hand skims down my side, tugging up my robe to bunch above my thigh. I lift my leg, bending it at the knee to help him move the obtrusive garment aside. “Grace?” he whispers into our kiss and I know what it is he’s asking.

  “Yes,” I breathlessly reply, though it sounds more like a plea to my ears.

  Baler's hand meets the skin of my inner thigh, and he runs his finger teasingly along the length until he finds his prize. What he finds causes him to growl in appreciation, wet and ready for him already, because, come on, this is Baler we’re talking about here, and he has me pinned to the bed underneath him. What woman wouldn’t b
e wet and ready for him? Baler easily slides one finger inside my soaked passage, and I groan into the kiss.

  I can feel his erection growing against my thigh as his hips shift against me. Moving my hands to his abdomen, I work the belt of his robe, pulling it free. Gliding my hands inside, I move down to find his cock hard and waiting for me. Gods, I love how we react to each other. Wrapping my hand around his hardening length, I stroke him from root to tip, finding a bead of pre-cum waiting. I run my palm through it and use it to slick his shaft and work my hand back down.

  Baler breaks our kiss and moves to groan into the juncture of my neck as I work him harder and faster. His hand stills with his finger inside of me as he gets lost in the feel of my touch. That’s when it dawns on me. When was the last time this man was touched like this by someone? In a moment of inspiration, I use one of the techniques that Baler taught me to flip us so he’s now under me.

  His hands leave my body as he tries to reorient himself, coming to rest on my hips. I smile at the look of confusion written on his face.

  I slither down his body, placing myself between his spread legs. I grab his cock in my small hand; he’s so thick that my fingers can’t touch when I wrap my fist around him. Lifting him slightly, I run my tongue up the underside of his rigid cock, pulling a deep throaty groan from him. Reaching the head, I wrap my lips around him and slide down his shaft. Baler rasps out, “Grace,” before his head falls back to the pillow. One hand flies to the back of my head, the other fists the sheet below him.

  Gliding back up, I hollow my cheeks and suck deep. Relaxing my cheeks, I slide back down, taking more of him each time I descend on him. I continue this a few more times, using my hand wrapped around him to work the length that’s not in my mouth.

  Soon I have him tapping the back of my throat with each descent. Quick hits, then I’m sliding back up, wrapping my tongue around him, licking and sucking.

  Baler’s moans get louder, his breathing quickening, and his hips begin to make small thrusts up as I suck him back down, pushing him further back in my throat. His fingers tangle in my hair, guiding my rhythm but not forcing me. I relax into his guiding hand and let him use me for his pleasure.

  When he’s as deep as I can take him, I swallow around him causing him to gasp in return with an audible “Oh fuck, Grace.” I repeat the movement, knowing he’s getting close to release by the twitching of his cock inside my mouth. Taking back control, I continue to hold him there as he tries and fails to pull me off. I grab hold of his hips, keeping him right where I want him as I continue to swallow around his steel, throbbing cock.

  “Grace, I am…” He doesn’t get to finish what he is going to say when a wave of ecstasy washes through him that has him spilling his load down the back of my throat. I swallow it down, every drop. As I move to release him, I slide my tongue up his shaft, stopping at the tip, giving him a soft suck and lick, pulling another throaty groan from him.

  I smile at the sight before me when I look up at Baler’s face. His hand fell away from my head as soon as he finished coming. Now he’s lying there, arms spread wide, eyes closed, chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to regain his composure, this utterly disheveled look. A thrill runs through me and my wolf, knowing we did this to him.

  I crawl back up and snuggle into his left side, resting my ear over his heart. Baler’s arm wraps over me, his hand resting on my hip. He hums something nearly inaudible. With a smile, I close my eyes and just listen to the rhythmic beating of his heart. It quickly lulls me into a state of complete tranquility, and I’m soon drifting off to sleep again.

  9

  Grace

  I meet Odin out at our boulder overlooking the cliff’s edge. Yes, it has become our boulder, our quiet meeting place. To heal and hash out the past or talk about what’s to come, a safe place to speak freely without fear of judgment.

  “Good morning, Grace. How are you feeling today?” he asks as I approach him.

  “Better. Still a little tired but most of the pain is gone.”

  “I am pleased to hear it,” he says with a genuine smile, something I’ve noticed he does more of lately when it’s just the two of us. “And how are things with Baler? Progressive, I am assuming.”

  Taking a seat beside him, I sigh but answer truthfully. “Confusing. On one hand, I have always felt this undeniable pull to Baler, of course I tried to deny it. I trust him implicitly. On the other hand, I feel like I’m dragging him into this coming war that has nothing to do with him. I worry, you know. I just found him, and I don’t want to lose him. I guess after everything that’s happened in my past, I’m simply scared. I don’t know how to reconcile all of this in my head. It doesn’t help that I’m destined to return to the world of the living to fulfill some prophecy. Yes, I know you said we’d fix it and before you ask, I do trust you to keep your word.”

  Odin makes a noise of understanding, contemplating a reply. “All of that is understandable, Grace. You have been through so much heartbreak and trauma in your short life. More than your fair share, more than anyone should ever have to. Perhaps, consider the advice of an old man, you could allow Baler to worry about how Baler feels, rather than taking on more responsibility than you need to. Remember, he has been training for a war since arriving here in Valhalla. I am sure given the choice; he would choose to fight by your side above anyone else’s.”

  He allows me to digest that for a moment before pressing forward. “Talk to me about what you saw yesterday after the curse broke.”

  A shiver works its way through me at remembering the sight of Alastair. A face that if I never saw it again, it’ll be all too soon. The man has haunted my nightmares for far too long. Remembering control, I reign in my conflicting emotions regarding the man and compose myself to answer.

  “It was a premonition, first one since arriving here. Alastair was in my father’s office screaming at a man named Wilder over the phone. He’s threatening someone Wilder cares for to get him to spy on Riley, only he hasn’t found her yet.” I meet Odin’s gaze, imploring him to hear this next part. “I have to warn her. She needs to know he’s looking for her.”

  “No. That is not why you had that vision,” he replies seriously and with all the authority of a king. “You have not received all the puzzle pieces yet. Do not try to assemble the whole picture until you have all the pieces. In the meantime, try to find this Wilder character. It will be good practice using and focusing your dream walking abilities.”

  “So, let me get this straight, there’s a war coming but I am just supposed to sit around trying to dream? That doesn’t sound very productive,” I argue, annoyance and sarcasm lacing my tone.

  “Do not get snappy, Grace. I am trying to guide you. In order for me to do that, you must trust me. I will give you a piece of what I have seen. If you interfere with Riley’s path, she will not find those she needs. Those who will rally around and support her.”

  “Like soldiers, or more?” I ask with bewilderment. What could he mean by this?

  Odin gives me a smirk and raises one eyebrow. A glint of amusement shines in his eye. “Both,” is all he says.

  A puzzle piece slots into place. “Riley’s path includes finding her mates,” I whisper as the bigger picture starts to take root. “Is Wilder one of her mates?”

  “Just as you saw your own mates, you will see hers as well. Once you are able to see them all, a clear path will start to form and reveal itself to you. You will need to prepare them for what is to come. To start though, you need to practice, Grace. Hone this new skill, as you will use it often and it will develop into a powerful weapon for you.”

  “Practice how? I’ve only been able to reach Riley that one time and I wasn’t even trying to. I assume I reached her because of our bond as sisters, and I was thinking about her at the time.”

  “You just answered your own question, Grace. You have a bond with your sister. She has a bond with Wilder. Even if it is not cemented yet, it is still there. Use those two bonds to reac
h out to him. We will start meditation training tomorrow morning to strengthen your mental awareness and teach you to reach out with your mind, not just your powers.”

  Wringing my hands in my lap, I just nod in response.

  “Have you had any more dreams of the past?”

  Nodding my head, I swallow remembering how Baler had woken me from my dreams this morning. How I had cried in his arms, grieving another loss. How I had opened up to him more than anyone else, other than Odin.

  “I had a dream about Jimmy this morning, which I shared with Baler. I didn’t realize how much grief I still held for his loss, until this morning. I shared about how we met and what it was like growing up in his pack. How he homeschooled us and then paid for us to go to college. I also shared with him the horrors of the premonition of a pack being slaughtered. The helplessness I felt after that. Resigned to whatever happens in life and never being able to change it, including my own death.”

  Odin places his hand over my trembling ones, clung tightly together in my lap. A comforting weight of strength. “Did you learn anything from those events?”

  “Only that no matter how much I want to, I can’t change the future.”

  “You are right about that.” There’s a lightness in Odin’s voice that causes me to look up at him. I find a smile that is part empathy and part humor. Which confuses me, as I can’t find humor in being resigned to watch people’s lives fall apart and not being able to do anything. What’s the point of this power if I can’t use it?

  So that’s what I say. “I fail to see the humor in this, Odin. What’s the point in seeing the future if I can’t make it better?”

  “You misunderstand, Grace. You are right in saying that you cannot change the futures of others. When we try to interfere with fate’s plans for others, we only cause more harm than good. However, every decision we make alters our path. Our decisions regarding our own paths.”

  A light dawns and I think I finally understand. “So, you’re saying I can’t interfere with the path already laid out. That those involved in the vision are the only ones that can alter the events, hopefully making a positive impact. Such as with Wilder and Alastair. I can’t warn Riley about Alastair’s plans without making the situation worse. However, Wilder can, seeing as he’s a key player. He can decide to interfere with Alastair’s plans for Riley. He can reach out to Riley or lead Alastair astray. So, while I can’t go to Riley, I can go to him. Help him find a lighter path.” As each piece of the larger puzzle begins to fall into place, my mood shifts. Becoming lighter and more determined.