Beowulf's Claim (Viking Warriors Book 3)

by Jessica Knight

  “Is this hard enough for you?” he grunts, pounding into me relentlessly.

  It is, but I wouldn’t be who I am if I didn’t challenge him. “No. I thought you promised me hard and fast?”

  “Pain in my ass.” He pushes my body down flat against the bed and shoves my legs together with his knees. He grips the headboard above me and curls his hips back. The strength of his legs press against mine as he pushes forward and dives between my folds.

  “Oh, goddess!” I shout in ecstasy. This position makes him deeper than he has ever been. I cannot handle it any longer. My orgasm shatters me.

  “Fuck, you’re even tighter in this position.”

  He uses the leverage from the headboard to give him more momentum. The bed is slamming against the stone, and the wood is creaking. Beowulf is grunting and snarling, whispering dirty things into my ear about how he shall fill me up with his seed every day and night.

  “I’m going to come,” he warns. “I’m going to come deep inside you, marking you as mine, and then I shall make you my fucking wife and claim you.” He grips the headboard harder, and he is thrusting in and out of me so fast, wet sounds fill the air, and my pussy heats more. I cry out again, spasming around his cock.

  He doesn’t slow as he comes. He keeps the brutal pace until the last rope of warmth coats my insides. Sweat drips off his body onto my back, and he kisses my neck and shoulders.

  “I love you, my Angel,” he says, gasping for breath. “I shall always love you.”

  “I love you,” I tell him, planting a deep kiss on his lips.

  We fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms, still connected where it is most intimate, and I hope if I wasn’t pregnant before, that I am now.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Beowulf

  I stand next to Lilith as she stares down at Alaric, the boy she was held hostage with. She has tears in her eyes as she notices the state he is in. He may not make it through the night. It was a miracle he survived last night. His body is too weak from lack of nutrition and abuse.

  “You’ve survived much worse, Ric. You must survive this too.” Lilith runs a hand over his hair. Leiva cleaned him up as much as she could, so now we can see how he actually looks. He will be a handsome young man if he makes it out of this. He has a crooked nose from being broken, and a strong jawline. He short, so he can’t be a warrior, but there are many trades he can learn.

  It kills my heart to see so many children coming to us from the Jackals. Children that have had no guidance and now must start a new life after suffering so much. When I was his age, I was training to be a warrior. I had a path, and I couldn’t imagine it taken from me like it has been taken from him, Lilith, Abram, and little Abigale. Rian may not have been taken by them, but his life is forever changed.

  The little fellow is taking a nap on my shoulder right now. I’m actually worried about him. He has been sleeping a lot. Too much for a child. He should be playing with the other kids, running around the kingdom, and driving me mad, but the only thing he wants to do is to be held. Leiva says it is normal since he lost the two people that were the closest to him, and this is him clinging onto the ones he loves so nothing can happen to them.

  And damn, if that doesn’t hurt. I want to protect my nephew from the evils of the world, and Alaric is a reminder that I may not be able to. I’ll die trying, though.

  “Why won’t he wake up?” Lilith’s voice is high with emotion. I know she is barely able to hold it together right now. She’s so strong, and she’s been through so much. But she doesn’t have to be strong all the time. I can carry us. I wish she knew that. Lilith must give herself time to heal from everything that has happened. She has locked it inside so deep that I know one day it will burst. I can only hope I will be able to help her when it does.

  “He is exhausted. He’ll wake up soon.” Leiva pats Lilith’s shoulder as she walks away. Erik, one of the guards of the castle, is in a bed across the room with a fake cough.

  I know it’s fake because he shoots me a wink after every time Leiva comes to tend to him. That man has been in love with that woman since he first laid eyes on her. Erik is from the village, and when Warlord Einarr went to scout the town for more men, he saw Erik chopping wood and scooped him up. He is a big man, even taller than me and wider than the bed he is sitting on. The man has to be the largest I’ve ever seen. It isn’t often villagers get to be part of the inner kingdom, so Erik jumped on the opportunity. And ever since he has guarded the castle doors, Leiva has been his main focus of concentration.

  And she has no idea.

  Lilith sits down and takes Alaric’s hand in hers. “I hope he wakes up soon. I want him to tell us where the Jackals are located so you can kill every single last one of them. If he tells you, will you save anyone?”

  I place my hand her lower back and rub soothing circles. “Anyone worth saving, yes.” I know we won’t kill children or women. Lord Grimkael won’t stand for that.

  “I can’t believe he got away. I feel horrible. When I got my memories back, I should have saved him. I should have tried going back, but the journey from there to here I cannot remember. I should have tried harder.”

  “You should have done no such thing,” I say with a little more bite than I intend, but thinking about her going back to that place makes me see red. “You have been healing. You can’t blame yourself for what they have done to him. With or without you, they would have hurt him, and they would have hurt you again. Don’t talk like that. You have no idea what that would have done to me.”

  I hide my face in the crook of Rian’s neck, so she doesn’t see how angry I am at the thought of her leaving me again.

  Her fingers stroke my arm, trying to soothe the rage that must be permeating off me. “I’m sorry, Beowulf. I feel responsible.”

  “You couldn’t have done anything, Angel.”

  “I could have done something. Look at him, Beowulf. He is barely alive.”

  “But he is alive. That’s what matters. When he wakes up, the first thing we shall ask him is to draw us a map to where they are. We shall put an end to this. Those tyrants won’t know what hit them when they see us coming.” Just the thought of getting my hands wrapped around a Jackal’s throat has me thirsting for blood.

  “Uncle Woof?” Rian’s sleepy voice makes me smile. I love that he can’t say my name because he is still learning how to speak. It’s so damn precious.

  I switch him over to my other hip and tilt my head down. “Aye, little man?”

  “Is that man going to be otay?”

  “I think so. He is just resting right now.”

  “Like daddy? Daddy is resting.”

  “Oh, my friend.” I cup the back of his head and sway him back and forth. “Not like your dad. Your dad isn’t coming back. This fellow, Alaric, he is. He is just healing.”

  “Why can’t my daddy heal?”

  I sweep my gaze over to Lilith, and she has her hand over her heart, staring at me and Rian. I have no idea what to say. What does someone say in this situation? “Well, Alaric’s injuries aren’t as severe as your father’s. Your father wasn’t able to heal.”

  “That’s not fair,” his voice climbs, getting higher. Goddess, please don’t let him cry. He cries every day, and I never know what to do. My father used to tell me that life isn’t fair and that it wasn’t supposed to be easy or it wouldn’t be called life. I suppose you could say my father was a pessimistic man, but it wasn’t always like that. After my mother died, he could no longer see any good in life.

  “I know, little man, but you have your father and your mother right here,” I point to his heart and then his head “Life won’t be easy all the time. Bad things happen like what happened to your parents. But I promise, living with the pain does get easier.”

  “I miss them,” he tilts his head back on my shoulder.

  I kiss the top of his head and sigh. “Aye, Rian. Me too.” Life without getting messages from my brother will take some getting used to
, but like I told Rian, I’ll learn to live with it.

  “Wulf!” Lord Grimkael’s booming voice echoes down the corridor. It’s the kind of tone that one does not ignore. Lord Grimkael has always been a ruthless man. He does everything he needs to for the survival of his people. He even killed his own brother after he found out his brother started competing band of rogues against both the Vikings and the Jackals. I didn’t really see a difference, but once Krane captured Lady Sassa, all bets were off.

  I’m proud to have a leader such as Lord Grimkael. Many Lords are not as selfless as he is. He sacrifices a lot of wealth for the good of the village so the people are taken care of, just like a Lord should.

  “Aye, I’m coming, Lord,” I reply to him, but he is no longer in the doorway. I lift Rian off my hip and hand him over to Lilith. “Can you take him? I must go.” I’ve been lacking in my responsibilities as his lead warrior. I wouldn’t be surprised if he came to demote me. Goddess, that would be humiliating.

  “Of course.” Her eyes brighten as Rian stretches his arms out to her. “Come here, you.” She grunts and plops him on her hip. “Gosh, you’ve gained weight. You’re so big. You’re bigger than me.”

  “Am not. You’re way bigger,” he giggles. Lilith lets out a playful gasp, feigning that her feelings are hurt.

  “You aren’t supposed to say that to a lady, little man,” I chuckle and slide my arm around Lilith’s waist and then steal a quick grab of her arse. “I happen to think you’re fucking perfect,” I whisper low, so Rian can’t hear us. “I shall fuck you later.” I hold onto her arse a little bit longer than I should, but I can’t seem to let it go.

  Mirth twinkles in her eyes as she takes a step away. The move causes my hand to fall. “I look forward to it.” She sits down in the chair next to Alaric’s bed, and Rian’s eyes droop again. She starts humming a tune I don’t know to help him fall asleep, and I stand there a minute to watch her with him.

  I can imagine her with our babies, singing them to sleep, and holding them tight because they are her entire world. It makes me want to try that much harder to get her pregnant. She’s going to be such a great mother. I wouldn’t want anyone else for my children.

  “Wulf! Get your arse over here, now.” Lord Grimkael’s voice could wake the dead, I swear it.

  “Shite. I love you.” I bend down and give her a quick peck on the lips. A hint of buttermilk lingers on her lips. For some reason, I find that it tastes better off her than it does from the source.

  I hurry away, my boots thudding against the floor. “Aye, someone’s in trouble,” Erik ‘coughs’ again, and Leiva comes walking from Alaric to Erik’s bed.

  “You fraud. Shut up, or I’ll tell her.”

  “You wouldn’t,” he hisses and covers it with a fake cough.

  A conniving smile takes over my lips. “Try me.” Erik and I have always had a brother-like banter.

  “Fucker,” he mumbles just in time as Leiva brings over a cup of hot tea for him.

  “Baby,” I mutter with my back turned and leave the medical room behind.

  Lord Grimkael, Trident, and Warlord Einarr’s voices are coming from the kitchen. They aren’t being quiet, either, which means something happened. Something bad. I bypass the tall wooden steps that go upstairs and a table that has a basket of different fruits on it for everyone to eat. Snatching a bright green apple from the top, I throw it in the air before catching it again and take a big bite out of its middle. So crunchy, and a bit sour. My favorite.

  The smell of mead slaps me in the face as I cross the entryway to the kitchen. I lean against the wall and watch as the three large men argue. They slam their goblets down, causing mead to spill over the rim and onto the table.

  If they don’t clean that up, Lady Sassa will be furious. I take another bite of my apple, and not even the loud crunch brings them out of their fight. Their voices are too mixed together for me to understand what they are arguing about.

  Trident sighs with a shrug and places his hands on his hips in frustration. Warlord Einarr seems pissed, and that scar on his face makes whatever he is about to say deadly. Lord Grimkael starts to pace back and forth in the kitchen. I’ve never seen him like this before. This isn’t a man preparing for battle or asking for blood. This is a man who is worried, and dare I say, fearful.

  “What’s going on?” I finally decide to make myself known to the men and step forward.

  Everyone stops what they are doing when they see me enter. Lord Grimkael stops pacing and places his hand on the table. His knuckles turn white, and the wood creaks under his grip. “Lord Troy, Lady Thyra’s father, is missing.”

  That grabs my attention. I close the distance between the men and copy Lord Grimkael’s stance. “What do you mean, missing? Doesn’t he disappear in the woods sometimes for hunting purposes? He is a bit of a loner.” Coming up with reasons for his absence is better than thinking of the alternative.

  Warlord Einarr shakes his head. “Nay, Thyra is devastated. Usually he is back by now. If he went further north, he could have gotten caught in a winter storm. The bastard never tells us where he is going. He just up and leaves. It’s fucking annoying. He could at least tell his daughter.”

  He smashes the goblet so hard on the counter that it shatters into pieces, sending mead everywhere. All that’s left is the handle in his hand. He stares at it and tosses it over his shoulder, clattering against the ground. “Sorry.”

  “I’m assuming we are going on a manhunt?” I ask, taking another bite of my apple. I’m worried about Lord Troy. I don’t know the man well. He tends to keep to himself and is intense about everything. The only person he has a soft spot for is his daughter. And even then, he is overprotective. He almost didn’t let her marry the Warlord. It practically came to blows between him and Einarr.

  “I don’t know. We must, but with that young man holding all the answers to the Jackals and where they are staying, I can’t afford to send warriors out for one man when I need all the strength I can get to prepare for battle. Fuck, the asshole really knows how to leave me in a bind.”

  “I’ll go look for him. For the next few nights. I don’t think that boy is waking up soon. Plus, he must draw a map; we have to prepare and assemble. It will take preparation, and honestly, Trident and I are the most capable ones to go to war after going on a rescue mission.”

  Warlord Einarr and Lord Grimkael narrow their eyes at me, and Trident looks back and forth between me and them, trying to catch on to what the problem is. I’d like to know, too. I think my plan is a good one, but they are staring at me like I’ve lost my marbles.

  “What?” I ask, annoyance swimming in my voice.

  “I’m surprised you’d offer is all, with the new changes in your life.”

  “I appreciate that Lord Grimkael, but Lilith can watch Rian for a few days. It will be hard, but I’ll manage. I’m just glad I can come home to her now.”

  Again, they just stare at me, judging me like I’m making a bad decision.

  “What? Out with it.”

  “Oh, goddess. You don’t know?” Lord Grimkael asks with wide eyes, and then he throws his head back and laughs. His beard is decorated with a bunch of war beads, signaling how many battles he has won. A part of me is jealous, but since I’m a warrior, I don’t have the privilege of growing my beard out that long or the opportunity to add beads to my beard. Being a warlord will never be in the cards for me.

  “Know what? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Your lady is with child, Wulf. We thought you knew,” chuckles Warlord Einarr.

  I freeze. The apple drops from my hand, and it rolls on the table, stopping in the puddle of mead. “What?”

  “Well she told Lady Sassa—” Warlord Einarr starts.

  “Who told Lady Thyra, naturally.”

  “Who told me.” The Warlord points to himself with a big smile on his face.

  Trident makes a noise in the back of his throat. “I’m supposing he didn’t know.”

&nbs
p; Why the hell am I finding out like this and not from Lilith? I turn around and stomp back toward the medical corridor to show her just how I should have found out, to begin with.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Lilith

  The look on Beowulf’s face can only be described as furious as he burst through the doors of the corridor.

  “Leiva!” he bellows. The intensity of his voice makes Leiva stops what she is doing and come shuffling to his side. The way he said her name wasn’t a request. It was an order.

  “Yes, Sir Wulf?”

  “Please watch Rian. Lilith and I must have a little talk.”

  She hangs her head and peers over at me, swallowing so hard her throat bobs. She’s nervous for me.

  Aye, me too.

  My legs betray me as I stand. It’s hard not to do what Beowulf says. And since he seems to be mad at me, I won’t poke a bear and make things worse with my smart mouth. I lay Rian down on the bed next to Alaric and wipe my sweaty hands on the skirt of my dress. I’m nervous. Beowulf is a very intense man, and when the little black dots in his eyes are hardly to be seen and the crystal clear blue surrounding it is aimed toward me, or anyone, that look can stop you in your tracks, wondering if you’re on the receiving end of a death threat.

  I know he would never hurt me, but I know he has hurt others, and that lets me know what he is capable of. He is an arms length away from me now. His long brown hair falls in his face as he motions his head down to look at me. He is looking for something in my eyes. I may have an idea of what it is.

  “You are coming with me. What I need to talk to you about should be done in private.”

  “Beowulf. What is going on? Is everything okay?” I stumble over my words as he drags me behind him by my wrist. I can hardly keep up with him; he is walking so fast. “Beowulf, slow down. I can’t keep up.”

  He slows but doesn’t look back. Everyone is staring at us at this point, and when I catch Lord Grimkael’s gaze, he mouths the words ‘I’m sorry’ to me. Sorry for what, I have no idea. He and I don’t speak much.