Thor’s Hammer
Rune Series: THURISAZ
By
Tianna Xander
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Thor’s Hammer: Rune series: Thurisaz
Copyright ã 2007 Tianna Xander
ISBN: 1-55410-761-X
Cover art and design by Martine Jardin
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by eXtasy Books
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To Bonnie Rose Leigh, critique partner extraordinaire…
Thurisaz
Thurisaz, a representative of Thor, the Thunder God, is also the rune of destructive force and vital eroticism.
In Thor's Hammer, Thor needs to find a mate, and impregnate her in order to ensure the survival of the Universe.
Throughout the course of the story, he is forced to defend himself and his mate from Loki, the Trickster who is determined to bring about Ragnorak.
Prologue
“The scrolls clearly state that if all of the Gods haven’t produced offspring by the tenth year of the new millennium, it will end life as we know it.”
Thor heaved a frustrated sigh. “If living this life is what I have to look forward to, I’m not sure that I want to continue being immortal.” The cold, demanding women of Asgard were not what he wanted. They were selfish lovers, demanding that he just have sex for sex’s sake. He didn’t want that. He wanted a connection with the mother of his children. A bond. Love. Was that so much to ask?
“You’re thinking only of yourself, boy,” Odin, father of all Norse Gods slammed his mug of mulled mead down on the golden table before him. “Think of others for a change. We do not want our lives to end. It will not only end your life, son. It will end the lives of all of us. There must be a balance. The universe has balance, without another of your blood soon the lack of stability in the Nine worlds will continue to collapse. Soon, there will be no way to reverse it.”
Thor stood straighter, willing his father to realize that he would not settle for less.
“Then I will have a mate of my own choosing. One who not only demands my body as the Goddesses are so adept at, but one who is capable of accepting my love as well as loving me in return.”
His father stood quickly, his chair sliding out from beneath him to tip over onto the floor. “Then find this woman. You have been doing little more than existing since Siv refused you. Go, find yourself another. One who will love you as you say.”
Odin pushed him over to the scrying bowl on the table.
“Look in the bowl for your mate. The fates will lead you to her.”
Within moments, the waters began to churn. First, Thor heard a woman crying—heart wrenching sobs that tore straight through him, leaving a hole, a chasm, in the center of his chest.
As the ripples slowed to a gentle wake then grew still as a mountain lake on a windless spring morn, he looked into the scrying bowl. He saw the woman he intended to be his future consort kneeling beside a grave.
“I can’t do it without you, Dad. How can I raise Alex by myself?” She leaned against the headstone. Moist earth beneath freshly laid sod stained her dress as she sobbed at the graves of her parents. “How could you both leave me alone with a ten year old boy to raise? I can’t do it. I just can’t.”
Her sobs squeezed something deep in Thor’s chest he was sure died long ago. The place where his heart had been. How many people had asked for his help over the years? How many more would ask, his honor demanding that he help them because they had gone down on their knees and begged it of him?
Sobs wracked her body. A breeze ruffled her shining platinum hair and he longed to reach out and stroke it. To offer her comfort within the security of his arms. He clenched his hand into a fist when she looked up and cast a glance around her, as if making sure she was alone. When she raised her face to the sky, tear-filled eyes bored into his through time and space.
His stomach clenched as he realized he watched the past. He hadn’t been there for her then. Even when she’d asked, begged for his help.
“Please, Thor, please, help me.”
Her sobs nearly unmanned him and he staggered away from the bowl as precious years passed. Where was he when this girl had needed his help? Wallowing in his own grief, letting others cover for his loss of compassion? He returned to the bowl, looking down into the glassy depths, waiting to see where he could find her now.
She still knelt in the cemetery, older now, dressed in faded jeans and a soft pink blouse.
“As the Gods are my witness, I will never allow another human being into my heart. They all die. I will never love another. If Alex dies, I have no reason to go on living. No reason to fight.”
Again her tear-filled eyes seemed to stare straight into his. “I will never ask another favor from any of you. Prayers are for the weak and weak minded. There are no Gods. I wash my hands of you all.”
Her words belied the fact that she still wanted to believe in the Gods. She was just angry with them—angry at them all for ignoring her when she had needed their love the most.
While rage filled his mind, Thor swung his arm, his mighty hammer suddenly appearing in his hand. He hit the onyx scrying bowl, knocked it from the table and sent it flying across the room to smash against the wall. It fell to the floor in pieces.
Turning to his father, he knelt before him, his head bowed.
“I ask your permission to go back to Earth and right the wrongs I have wrought with this woman.”
Chapter One
Emma Thornton stood and brushed the grass clippings from her worn jeans. Humid and unseasonably warm early fall air blew across the headstones, stirring the dried flowers others had left for their loved ones. The crackling of dry leaves and flower pedals somehow soothed her frazzled nerves. Leaving the fresh flowers she picked from her mother’s neglected garden on her parent’s graves, she turned to walk through the cemetery. With the warm rays of the afternoon sun on her back, she could almost believe it was still summer, weeks before the seemingly endless work of the harvest.
She shook her head. “If it were only so.”
Glad for the lengthy walk back to her car, she took the time to bring her emotions in check for the long drive back home. Checking her watch after settling herself in her car and buckling the safety belt, she grimaced. There were too many long days and nights ahead of her, trying to bring the harvest in alone—not to mention running her business.
Resting her head against the steering wheel, she fought back the tears of frustration burning her eyes and reached down to turn the key. The backbreaking work certainly wasn’t going to do itself and she couldn’t afford to lose her crops. Not with all of the medical bills there were to pay.
Emma barely remembered the trip back home. Driving on autopilot had become a habit, a bad habit—one that would likely end in a bed at the hospital with her brother.
The police determined he had likely fallen asleep at the wheel of his truck. With no conscious driver,
the vehicle veered off the road just before an overpass, shooting over a one hundred and twenty foot drop. He was lucky—or so they said. He could have been killed. But what kind of life would he have lying comatose in a hospital bed with a feeding tube in his stomach?
The driveway loomed long in front of her as exhaustion already took its toll on her body. The wooded acres between the road and the farm lent privacy to her home, also providing a natural wind block from the frigid northern winds. Dust flew up from the road, leaving a cloud behind her for several hundred feet.
Lost in thought, she almost missed seeing the large object lying in front of her before it was too late. Jamming both feet on the brake pedal, she jerked the wheel causing the car to fishtail on the loose gravel drive.
Adrenaline rushed through her bloodstream. Her heart pounded in her ears as she fought off the urge to vomit from nerves or exhaustion. Hell, maybe both. It was hard to tell at this point. Her palms began to sweat as they held the steering wheel in a death grip. She stared through the windshield at the large man lying face down in the middle of her driveway.
“Oh, my God. What next?”
Prying her fingers from the steering wheel, she reached down and unclasped her seatbelt. Then, almost as an afterthought, she reached up to turn off the motor, pocketing the keys as she slid out of the car.
The skin on the back of her neck began to prickle as she stood staring at the man. Long legs, covered in worn, faded blue jeans stretched toward one side of the one-lane dirt tract. His head nearly reached the other side. The man was huge! What appeared to be a heavily muscled chest, encased in a once white t-shirt moved steadily up and down as he breathed. She released a relieved sigh at the sight. At least he wasn’t dead. That was a plus.
Checking her watch again, she cursed her bad luck and approached the man lying prone in front of her. She was losing daylight fast. During the harvest, every minute counted and she’d already wasted too much time.
Visiting Alex was not a waste of time, Em. You’ll never know when your last visit will be. Take every minute he lives and treasure that gift.
She stopped next to the man and stared down at him, the sound of her mother’s voice ringing in her ears.
There is always time for compassion, Emma. Never let the trials of life make you lose that precious part of you. The ability for a person to feel compassion for another, whether human or animal is the greatest gift given to us by the Gods. Do not squander it.
Yet her mother’s prized compassion got her shot by an armed robber when she tried to help an old woman to her feet. She didn’t toss him her purse fast enough and the man murdered her for it.
Adriana Marie Thornton lived just long enough to tell her husband and two children that she could never regret her choice to try to help the older woman that day. Her mother merely held their hands in a loose grip and smiled, constantly repeating her belief that compassion was her greatest God given gift.
Frightened, Emma shook off the heartrending memory and approached the large man. She took in his height and build, the farmer in her appraising his size. Maybe he came looking for a job. She frowned. That still didn’t explain why he was unconscious in the middle of her driveway.
A little voice in her head whispered frightening things about murderers and rapists as she moved toward the obviously unconscious man. Still, even as every alarm in her system shrieked for her to turn and run as far and as fast as she could in the opposite direction, she moved steadily closer.
Each breath he took caused goose bumps to rise on her skin. It was almost as if she could feel each exhalation. The sight of his huge upper arms as big as her thighs made her stomach do little flip-flops.
Sandy red hair sprouting from everywhere on his head and face, made him look like a huge orange bear and had her staring with awe. The man was the personification of the Norse God Thor. The only thing missing was that famed hammer.
Dropping to her knees, she shoved with all of her strength and managed to roll him over. She took her time assessing his injuries. Running her hands along his arms and legs, she was glad to find that he didn’t have any broken extremities. His breathing hitched when she ran her fingers lightly over his ribs and rock-hard abs, looking for any obvious trauma. There didn’t appear to be any...She frowned. Smoothing the dirt and hair from his face, shoving her fingers through his hair searching for a lump on his head. Her fingers tingled, sending little bolts of electricity up her arm to settle deep in her middle.
How can she be attracted to a man she didn’t even know, especially a man with such a scruffy beard covering his face? She looked closer. It appeared as though he may even be handsome under all of that hair.
Quashing the zing of sexual awareness that shot through her groin, she settled back on her heels, wiped her sleeve across her forehead and sighed.
Get a grip, Emma. The man is injured. You can’t possibly be attracted to an unconscious man that has sprouted hair from his nose. She grimaced at the sight. Was that really coming from his nose, or was it an illusion of all that hair sticking out from every direction?
“I’ll never be able to carry you to the car by myself, you know.” She looked from the giant on the ground in front of her to her compact car. She reached out and poked him in the shoulder.
“Hello! Are you okay?”
Emma grimaced at the stupid question. Of course he wasn’t okay. Men didn’t fall asleep in the middle of driveways when they were okay.
She wiped her moist palms on her jeans. Every female part of her body was aware of the man lying prone in front of her car. The sun sank lower in the sky and desperation fought with the hard won compassion her mother had tried so diligently to instill in her.
Grabbing his shoulders, she shook him with all of her might. “Wake up, damn it! I have work to do and I can’t get to it until I know you’re not dying in my driveway.”
Patience, Emma. Compassion. Her mother’s voice intruded again and she felt ashamed. Her mother gave her life for another and not regretted it. Here she was, unwilling to give up a couple of precious minutes.
The man groaned and let out what sounded suspiciously like a snore and Emma finally lost all patience. Standing, she walked back to her car, reached in and pressed the center of the steering wheel.
The loud piercing noise that emanated from the car even made Emma grimace. There was something wrong with her horn. It certainly should not sound like a shrieking cat in heat.
The man finally stirred, sitting up with his hand on his head. He looked around for a moment before his gaze finally settled on Emma.
Even in the fading light of late afternoon, she stood mesmerized by the sapphire blue of his eyes. So like her Thor. If she hadn’t already sworn off caring for anyone, she could have fallen for her scruffy visitor for his eyes alone.
The twinkle in those beautiful eyes promised good humor and compassion. The two most important things he mother had always taught her to look for in a man. Describing the characteristics of Thor, her mother told her that she would do well to find a kind man capable of vengeance but filled with the same loving compassion as her favorite Norse God.
Emma hadn’t found herself a man, choosing instead to fall in love with the legends of Thor. She would live her life alone, devoting her every waking moment to his service. Until today. Today she had thrown away that childish dream. She’d finally grown up and realized that there were no real gods. No all powerful being watched over her and her brother, offering them protection and compassion. No one would show up and make things right for them. It was just a young girl’s fantasies intruding in the real world. Well, no more. It was time to grow up. The only person she could rely on to help her and her brother now was herself.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she walked over to the man, knelt down a few feet away from him and stared into his eyes.
“What are you doing on my property?”
Chapter Two
Thor sat up and looked at Emma Sue Thornton. Large, compassionate s
ky blue eyes stared into his as she fidgeted while she knelt across from him. He rubbed his head and looked around, trying to remember what he’d done to get here.
Odin, his father, removed his powers so he could live as a mortal. He hadn’t wanted the temptation of taking her free will from her. He wanted her yes, but he wanted her to choose him. He didn’t want to force that choice from her.
“I don’t know how I got here...Miss.” He’d barely stopped himself from using her name. He was supposed to be human. How would he know her name? “The last thing I remember was accepting a ride from two nice young men in a pickup truck.”
She sighed and shook her head. “The two nice young men most likely robbed you and dumped you here.” She stood, reached out to give him a hand up. “Do you still have your wallet?”
Thor accepted her hand and stood, keeping her fingers imprisoned in his. He looked down at her, every nerve ending in his body demanding that he take her and make her his. He ignored the urge to throw her to the ground and bury his cock inside her regardless of her protests.
“Wallet?” Of course he didn’t have a wallet. He’d never needed a form of identification in his life other than Mjolnir, his hammer. He made a show of feeling his back pockets and looked down at her. “No. I don’t have my wallet. They must have taken it.”
Staring down into her eyes, he tried to figure out what it was about her that made his balls ache. He wanted nothing more than to throw her on the ground and bury his cock deep inside her. Yet, he knew he needed to keep control over his base needs. Those feelings were the very reason his father had stripped him of his powers before sending him here.
Thor stood before the only woman in the universe worthy to have his children as vulnerable as if he were a newborn babe. He never felt so unsure of himself in his life. He needed to be with this woman. He needed to touch her, to feel her body pressing intimately against his. He took a step forward, intending to wrap her in his arms and stopped when she stepped back.
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