Yeah. Vig loved what Kera called his “thousand-yard stare.” Loved it!
Kera crashed into his back, her body right between his wings, her legs around his waist, her arms loosely wrapped round his neck, her chin on his shoulder.
“Hi!” she greeted the other Ravens, sounding happier than he’d ever heard her. “I’m Kera.”
“The new girl,” his brothers replied.
“So,” one asked, “how did you die?”
Vig growled and his brothers eased back.
“It’s all right, Vig,” Kera said. “I was warned I’d be asked this question. Knife to the chest.” She patted Vig’s chest. “Right up to the hilt. It was most unpleasant.”
“I bet. But you’re here now. Hanging on to our boy Vig.”
Kera pressed her face against Vig’s. “I’m sorry. Were you two together?”
His brother rolled his eyes. “No. I like a guy who’s a little more fem.”
“Okay,” Vig said. “That’s enough. We’re done objectifying me. It’s not my fault I’m so damn handsome.”
Kera laughed and released her hold on Vig, dropping back, and then shooting off. Vig watched her go before looking back at his brothers. They were all gawking at him.
“What?” he finally asked them. “What are you all staring at?”
“Did you just make a joke?” one asked.
“Yeah. I’m funny.”
“Not really. I’m funny. But you’re not actually known for funny. You’re known for being . . . ya know . . . Swedish.”
“My people have a wonderful sense of humor.”
“If you’re not going to take this seriously,” his brother said, shaking his head as the others headed down to the house, “we’re just going to end this conversation.”
Kera felt invigorated. Alive. Free.
This had been the most amazing experience of her life. But her muscles were getting tired and she was ready to get down.
There was just one problem . . . she didn’t really know how.
“Vig?” she called out as she circled above his house.
“Do you think I’m funny?”
Kera turned, found Vig perched on a branch in one of the trees.
“How are you keeping your weight on that branch?”
He shrugged. “I just do. So, funny? Not funny?”
“You make me laugh. In a good way. Not in an ‘I’m laughing at you’ way.”
“My brothers don’t think I’m funny.”
“Probably because you growl at them when they piss you off.”
“But I make you laugh?”
“So far.”
“I’ll go with that.”
“I’m tired,” Kera announced.
“Okay.”
“I don’t know how to get down.”
“I’ll help you.”
“No. I need to learn to do this on my own.”
“Okay. Then spot where you want to land, bring up your wings, and you can treat the air like brakes on a car. You’ll be a little off first but—”
“I know. I know.”
Kera looked down, picked a spot, and headed down. But as she neared the ground, she couldn’t seem to slow her body down.
“Uh-oh,” she gasped, throwing her arms up to protect her face before she crashed.
But Kera abruptly stopped in midair.
She lowered her arms. She was inches from the ground. But as she looked over her shoulder, she saw that Vig was hovering above her, his hand gripping her tank top.
“Gotcha!” he said, grinning, clearly proud of himself—seconds before Kera’s tank top ripped and she hit the ground.
“Oh shit,” Vig gasped, dropping to a crouch beside Kera. “Shit. Kera? Are you okay?”
Vig carefully turned her over and sighed in relief when he realized that she wasn’t answering him because she was laughing too hard.
Brushing dirt off her face and laughing with her, he asked, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m fine.” She reached for his hand and Vig grasped it, pulling her into a sitting position.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Forget it.”
Vig helped her stand. “Let’s get you inside.”
Still holding her hand, Vig led her into his unlocked house and sat her down on his couch.
He went to the bathroom and wet a washcloth with warm water. Returning to the living room, he sat on the coffee table in front of Kera and carefully wiped the dirt from her face.
“Couple of minor scratches,” he told her. “Nothing you’ll need a blood transfusion for.” He removed the last trace of dirt from her face. “There. All done.”
Vig pulled his hand away and that’s when he realized that Kera was staring at him. “What is it?” he asked.
“You made flying fun for me.”
“It is fun.”
“But I was terrified and now I can’t wait to do it again tonight.”
“I have no doubt you would have figured it out on your own without my—”
Kera kissed him. She just sort of rammed her mouth against his and kissed him, her hands gripping his biceps.
Just as abruptly, Kera pulled back, her eyes wide, her hand brushing against her mouth.
“That was horrible and awkward, wasn’t it?” She shook her head, her cheeks turning a bright red from embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, Vig. I don’t know what—”
Vig gripped Kera’s face between his hands and yanked her close. He took a breath, realizing how long he’d been waiting for this, and kissed her back. She gasped in surprise and Vig took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. She tasted sweet and, in a strange way, exactly like what he’d been waiting for. Like a candy bar one always wanted to try but never had the chance to taste. Until now.
And Vig had been waiting for Kera a long time. Extremely long. Something he was not used to doing. If Vig wanted something, he bought it or made it or bartered for it. This was Kera, though.
He forced himself to pull away from her, both of them panting.
Vig looked deep into her brown eyes. He wanted to make sure they understood each other completely, because he didn’t want regrets later.
“Kera, listen to me. I wish I could tell you that if we did this, I was going to be patient and warm and sweetly charming. I can’t. I don’t know how. And I’ve wanted you too long to pretend I can start now. So, if this isn’t what you want, tell me. Tell me and go. And know that nothing between us changes. But please tell me now, before we go a step further.”
Kera’s expression turned . . . angry? Vig wasn’t sure.
“What?” she demanded. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m trying to tell you—”
“Oh, shut up!” she snapped, shocking Vig into silence. “Eighteen months you barely say a word to me and now you decide to be fucking chatty.” She shoved his hands off her face and stood, walking around the couch until she stood behind it, glaring at him.
“Kera, I’m—”
“Shut. Up.” She pointed at him. “I don’t want to hear your bullshit.” Of course she didn’t. What made him think that—?
“Just get your clothes off,” she ordered through clenched teeth, “and meet me in that goddamn bedroom.” When Vig sat there, gaping at her, Kera tore off the rest of her already ripped tank top and threw it in his face.
“Now!” she bellowed like a pissed-off drill sergeant.
Vig watched her disappear down his hallway, her stomping feet shaking his small home.
Vig briefly closed his eyes. “Thank you, mighty Odin.” Vig grinned as relief flooded his entire body. “Thank you for everything.”
Then Vig stood and went after his woman.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
By the time Vig walked into the room, Kera was desperately trying to get her boots off. The laces had become knotted and now she couldn’t get the fucking things off.
“Boots stuck,” she snarled.
Without saying a word, Vig came o
ver to her, reached down and grabbed her foot . . . then he lifted. Kera fell back on the bed and watched as Vig reached over to the end table and opened the drawer. He pulled out a folding knife and easily flicked it open with his thumb. He cut the laces on her boot and yanked the first one off her foot. He grabbed her other boot and, even though this one wasn’t stuck, did the same thing anyway.
He tossed the blade back into the drawer, reached in again, and pulled out a box of condoms, slamming it on the end table.
Thank God one of them was being at least a little rational, because Kera wasn’t. She couldn’t be rational.
She wanted this too much to be anything but demanding and extremely bitchy. But she could fly. And a Viking wanted her!
Kera scrambled away from Vig and stood on his bed. “Clothes off,” she ordered, reaching behind her back and unhooking her bra, tossing it aside. Vig’s bloodstained white tank landed on top of it and they both went for their jeans at the same time, staring at each other as they pulled them off.
Kera reached for her panties but Vig caught hold first and, his gaze still locked with hers, yanked them off with one pull.
That was it for Kera. She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his chest. Unlike the Crows, Vig didn’t seem to have any issues with Kera’s “overly developed” thighs, which made all of this even better.
Using both hands, she pushed his thick brown hair off his face and kissed him. His mouth opened and his tongue met hers, the jolt of that touch rocketing through her body. Her nipples hardened, her pussy got wet, and Kera dug her hands into Vig’s hair.
Never in her life had she wanted something so much before. Not even getting away from her mother had ever taken on this kind of urgency.
As their kiss went on and on, Kera was vaguely aware that Vig leaned over to the end table. Why? She didn’t know or care. She didn’t know or care about anything at this moment. There was too much she wanted. Too much she needed.
She heard something tear, there was a brief pause, then Vig turned them around and Kera was pushed against the chest of drawers, the handles pressing into her back. Again, she didn’t care.
His mouth still fused to hers, their tongues still desperately tangled, Vig lowered Kera a bit. And then, with one strong shove, he was inside her. All of him. Up to the hilt.
Kera’s head fell back and she gasped from the feel of so much cock inside her. And it was so very much cock.
Kera slapped her hands against Vig’s shoulders, dug her short nails into his skin, tightened her legs around his waist.
She needed only one thing from him now and, thankfully, she didn’t have to wait long. Barely seconds.
Vig pulled his hips back, waited a beat, then shoved them forward.
“Do it,” she ordered him when he paused again. She pulled her hands away from his shoulders and stretched them out the length of the chest she was pinned to, gripping the edges, leaving herself open to Vig. “Do it,” she growled at him. “Now.”
His grin was a relief and a little scary. He knew he had her. Had all of her, and that was just what he wanted. She knew it. She didn’t care.
He could have her . . . if he could take her.
His hands moved down to grip her ass and he did what she wanted. He fucked her. Hard. His cock slamming into her, the chest she was holding on to ramming into the wall with each brutal thrust, her toes curling, her breasts bouncing. Even with him holding her tight, his hands gripping her ass cheeks tighter with each thrust, Kera had never felt so free except when she’d been flying. This was like flying.
Realizing that, Kera’s entire body grew tight and her hard panting turned to gasps as the orgasm spread from her groin through every nerve she had in her body.
She dropped her head back, and her grip on the chest grew tighter as Kera felt something ease out of her hands and into the wood. Talons. She now had talons and they were ripping the fuck out of Vig’s poor chest of drawers.
Kera didn’t care. How could she care about anything?
The growing orgasm suddenly stopped and Kera had a moment of pure panic before it exploded through her like a bomb.
She screamed out, her talons tearing through wood, her legs gripping Vig in a way that would kill most men.
And then . . . it kept going. It just kept going. Her body shook from the power of it, all thoughts and worries wiped from Kera’s mind.
When she finally snapped back to reality, Vig was staring at her. She quickly realized he wasn’t done. He hadn’t come. He was still hard inside her.
Vig’s hand slipped behind her neck and he lifted her away from the chest of drawers. He slammed her onto the bed, placed his hands flat on the mattress, on either side of her head.
“Grab your ankles,” he ordered her and Kera immediately obeyed, pulling her legs from around his waist and lifting them so she could reach her ankles. “Keep them there,” he snarled at her.
She understood. She’d gotten what she’d needed, now it was his turn.
That seemed eminently fair to her.
Towering over Kera, his cock buried deep inside her tight, wet, and incredibly hot pussy, Vig knew he should wait. Wait until he was calmer. Wait until he had more control.
He couldn’t.
Watching her come had been one of the greatest moments of his life. It had been beautiful. And it had made him crazy.
All he could do now was bark orders at her and take her. Take what he knew he had to have. His ancestors demanded that he take what she was offering. Without question. Without thought.
So Vig did.
He fucked Kera. Fucked her hard, with long, powerful strokes that were neither gentle nor kind.
He fucked her and Kera never once told him to stop. Instead, her hands gripped her ankles tighter, and she lifted her legs higher so that his cock tapped something deep inside her.
As he came, as his cock claimed ownership of that which Vig knew he could never truly own because it would always belong to Kera, he watched Kera come again, with him. Her back arched, her neck muscles straining, her heart racing.
It was all Vig needed to see, to know, to understand. She might never truly belong to him, but he would always belong to her. Always. Until Ragnarok came.
He roared out, his body shuddering as he came and came and came.
Sweating and exhausted, he dropped on top of Kera, unable to find even the bit of strength needed to roll off her.
Thankfully, she didn’t seem to mind, her arms reaching up and her hands smoothing down his shoulders. Like she was trying to soothe a restless stallion.
Maybe she was.
After several minutes, he was able to roll away from her. They lay next to each other on his bed, their panting finally turning to easy breaths.
“You never quite got off your jeans and boots,” she noted.
Vig glanced down and saw his jeans bunched at his ankles. “No. It was taking too long.”
“It was.”
“You hungry?” he asked.
“Oh my God . . . I’m starving.”
Vig sat up. “Eggs and bacon all right?”
“I don’t care.”
“Good. We eat,” he said, standing. “Then we fuck. Deal?”
Kera grinned. “Best deal I’ve had in years.”
“Skuld gave you a second life,” he reminded her.
“And yet eggs and bacon before more fucking”—she shrugged—“still better.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
After two hours of solid sleep, Erin woke up and made her way to the kitchen. The actresses with an early set call were already gone. As were the lawyers, doctors, and bankers. The rest of the Crows were either practicing yoga in the backyard, going off to spin class at the gym in town, or heading off to auditions. There were a few of her sisters who liked to play with trouble and would go down to the ocean to swim or get in a little surfing. That was playing with trouble because the Claws of Ran controlled the ocean and the Claws hated the Crows.
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But whatever entertained them was up to her sisters. All Erin wanted to do was enjoy her orange juice and relax.
That’s exactly what she was doing when Chloe stumbled into the kitchen, dropping into a chair across from Erin and placing her head on the table.
“Are you okay?” Erin asked. “You look like shit.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind.”
“Up again yelling at your ex over the phone?”
“No.” Chloe pushed her hands through her hair. “Bad night. Too many dreams, which has been going on for weeks now.” She reached over and took Erin’s glass of orange juice out of her hand.
“Hey.”
Chloe finished the juice in one gulp and held the glass out, jerking it a bit to indicate she wanted more.
“I need my own apartment,” Erin complained.
“No one’s stopping you.” Chloe finished off another glass of juice, and said, “Heard the new girl let those witches go last night.”
“She did.”
“And you guys allowed it?”
“We did.”
“You know—”
“Before you go any further . . . she had good reason. Very sound logic on why we didn’t have to kill anyone.”
“And what if she’s wrong?”
“We’ll find out.”
“Why didn’t you go back and take care of it yourself?”
“Why are you so worried?”
“Leigh says—”
“If you start listening to Leigh, especially about Kera, we’re done with this conversation.”
“What if she’s right? What if the new girl can’t kill?”
“Do you know who Leigh heard that little tidbit from? Stieg Engstrom. The most useless of all the Ravens.”
“And then she left, right? The new girl didn’t hang with you guys after?”
“Yeah. So?”
“Where did she go?”
“She probably went to Rundstöm’s.”
Chloe frowned. “Why?”
“She likes him.”
“Why?”
“I can’t have this conversation with you.”
“I guess there’s no accounting for taste.”
Should Erin mention her leader’s incredibly unhealthy relationship with her ex? No. Probably not.
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