Vikings' Brides Box Set

by Jessica Knight

  I close my eyes, forgetting about Einarr, forgetting about Abram, and thinking about Sassa. I hope she is safe. I hope he hasn’t touched her. I know it will be my nightmare tonight. And every night that I do not have her. Krane will be sorry he ever messed with what is mine.

  I’ll feel no remorse for killing him. Blood may be thicker than water, but it is water that keeps me alive and quenches my thirst. Blood means nothing unless it is running through my veins.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sassa

  My face aches from the abuse of Krane’s palm. I sob when I place my hand on the throbbing cheek, hating him even more for doing this to me. My back hurts from leaning against the wall, and my skin is cold from the dropping temperature from the blizzard outside.

  He has blankets and furs that can keep me warm, but I’d rather freeze to death than touch anything he has to offer.

  The room isn’t just cold from the air, but the lack of life in here. Everything looks bland, no color, no life. Just rotted wood and old stone walls with ripped sheets and used blankets that have god-knows-what on them.

  The familiar sound of footsteps creak the floorboard outside the walls. The metal of the door handle makes a high-pitched screech from the key sliding into the lock. When the door opens, Krane is standing there with a shit-eating grin on his face.

  “Your husband just killed three of my guards while they were patrolling the boundaries. I figured he would, that’s why I sent the guards I liked the least.”

  “How do you know it was him?” My heart soars with the fact that he is near. He has come to rescue me.

  “Well, when we were boys, he liked to slice a ‘W’ into everything because he was so sure he would be a warlord. Pathetic, really. All my guards had W’s on the sides of their neck where the Jackal symbol used to be.”

  I can’t stop the rush of excitement and hope that fills my soul. He has come for me. I should have known he would find me and get me away from this man. I guess there is a part of me that wondered if he would even bother with how difficult I can be. “He will kill you.”

  He stomps over to me and grabs me by the hair again, forcing me to follow him down the steps and outside. It’s early in the morning, and the snow has stopped falling. The sun starts to peek through the thunderous snow-filled clouds, and the blue sky tries to push its way into the day. It’s cold, and my ankle makes me limp, only making it more difficult to walk.

  “He won’t kill me because I shall kill him first.”

  I try to put on a tough bravado, not letting him see the insecurity in my face. My hands weakly tremble against my side, trying to resist as he holds a tight grip on my scalp. I look out at the white fields covered in thick blankets of snow and try to see any sign of Grim.

  But everything is quiet. Too quiet. The underlying peace makes me uncomfortable because I know it is a facade. The winds blow through the trees. The leaves rustle, spilling snow onto the ground. I see nothing. Everything is still.

  “Ah, there he is,” he says.

  And there, in the distance, on his huge black horse, is Grim. I can’t stop the smile spreading across my face. He is actually here. Next to him is another man. I can’t tell who it is, but he is on a horse that can’t seem to walk straight.

  They come closer; the horses pushing the thick snow out of the way like a heavy ocean current making waves. They come as close as the bridge and stop.

  “Grimkael!” I shout, with tears escaping down my face.

  He hops off his horse, and the men in the building raise their bow and arrows, readying to shoot. He stops, staring at me with pure determination.

  “I wouldn’t take another step, Brother,” Krane sneers, letting go of my head with such force, it makes me fall down three steps until I stop right before the bridge.

  My arms shake as I lift myself up, turning my head to see Grim taking a step toward me. Only the step he takes makes an arrow slam into the ground, right at his feet. My body trembles as Krane’s hand rubs over my back. I didn’t even hear him walk down the steps. This time, he makes me sit up by grabbing the back of my neck.

  “Grim,” I whisper, pleading with him to save me from the hands of this madman.

  “Let her go,” he warns with a clenched jaw.

  “Or what? You think you can take me? I have a hundred men. You have yourself and…” His voice trails off when he sees the other man, who’s next to Grim, is still upon his horse. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t little Abram. You joined with the enemy? I should kill you where you stand.”

  “I joined with a mighty warlord. You are nothing but a villainous man looking for revenge.”

  “I could have them kill you right now for your stupid tongue,” Krane snaps.

  “You’d be a coward to let other people do your dirty work. At least Grimkael goes out on the battlefield. You sit on your fake throne and drink. And take things that aren’t yours to take.”

  “Isn’t that the beauty of being King, though? Having others do your dirty work?”

  Grim takes another step forward. “That is not a way of a true leader. Let her go.”

  “I don’t think I will. She is quite beautiful, Grim. I can see why you wanted her.”

  “You and I shall battle. Not your men. Not Abram. Just our swords. We fight to the death and whoever wins, not only gets the title of Warlord but gets Sassa, daughter of His Royal Majesty King Leif.”

  The tight hold on my neck disappears, and I fall to my hands.

  “Now that is an offer I can’t refuse. Take her!” he demands, unsheathing his sword.

  Two men grab me by the arms as they drag me back toward the door, but they don’t take me inside. I don’t fight it. It’s useless. I have no strength left. I’m tired. I don’t want to give up, but if Grim loses, will fighting even be worth it?

  I shake my head. No. Grim will win. I know he will.

  “You and me, right now, Grimkael.”

  “I’ve waited for this day for as long as I can remember. I thought you were already dead. Now, I’ll be able to live my life peacefully knowing you don’t exist.”

  The hands tightening around my arms hurt, but my eyes never leave Grim and Krane. I can see the similarities between the two men. They almost move in the same way. Both bend their knees, both crouch low, but where Grim holds his sword close to his body, Krane lifts his above his head.

  That leaves his entire body vulnerable.

  “Call off your men before we begin,” Grim states to his brother with a curl of his lip.

  Krane stands straight and lifts his hand. Everyone lowers their bows at the same time, but the attention never falters. Everyone is looking at the two brothers as they circle one another on the bridge. It’s wide, but one false move can send them both tumbling over into the icy waterway.

  “You’d threaten to kill me over some piece of ass?” Krane goads.

  Grim has so much hatred in his eyes; it causes me to look away. I don’t like seeing him like this. I’m so used to the way he looks at me, with heat and desire, but never with the promise of pain. Never that.

  He yells a warrior cry, shouting, “She is my wife!” And then he makes the first move to charge.

  Krane doesn’t expect it, but he blocks the sword with his own. Metal against metal rings out in the air, grinding against each other, before they pull away.

  “I shall free these women you keep. I shall kill the men that put their hands on their unwilling bodies.”

  “You must defeat me to do that,” Krane strikes again, but Grim spins out of the way in an expert move, missing the fall of his enemy’s sword.

  “I don’t think that will be a problem. You’ve always had more confidence than you could ever back up.” Grim’s word strikes something within Krane because he launches himself at the Warlord of the Vikings.

  They battle with fast feet and quicker hands. Krane cries out as Grim stabs his sword. Krane didn’t move out of the way in time, and the sharp blade opens his skin on the side of his che
ek.

  Grim has officially drawn first blood.

  Murmurs echo around us from Krane’s men questioning his ability to fight and protect them if he can’t even last a few minutes in the space of another warrior. But it isn’t just any warrior; it’s Grimkael.

  My warlord.

  “You’re a dead man, Grimkael.” Krane wipes the blood off his cheek, smearing it on his skin.

  “So, you’ve said,” Grim says with a bit of cheekiness. I smile, thinking he may have gotten that from me.

  Krane kicks his leg out, slamming his foot in Grim’s gut, but it doesn’t stop Grim from lifting his elbow and slamming it on his brother’s shin. Snow fans out as they slice through it with their bodies. Water splashes in the air from the amount of snow falling into the river. Their swords clash as they fight, and this time, Krane stabs Grim straight into his torso.

  I gasp, but the only thing Grim does is smile. He shucks out of his fur, and that’s when I see Krane’s sword stuck in the thick of the bearskin Krane wears.

  Now Grim is bare. His chest heaves with sweat and scars. He is such a magnificent creature. His muscles bunch and flex as he moves. His strength is apparent, and it makes my body yearn for him so much more now than it ever did. He has a deep V traveling down his hips, disappearing down his pants that I want to explore and lick and taste.

  Even being held back by these brutes, my body awakens with need for Grim.

  Grim has the opportunity to kill Krane since his sword is stuck, but he doesn’t take it. “Oh, what are you doing,” I whisper, trying to figure out what he is playing at.

  Krane lifts his sword from the thick of the hide and stares at Grim in question. “You could have killed me.”

  “I don’t kill a man when he can’t fight for his life. It isn’t noble.”

  “Who cares about nobility?”

  “You should. I just gave you a chance to live.”

  “You’ve always been a fool. A fool who took the easy way out.” Krane twirls the long, silver blade in his hand.

  “Nothing about death is easy,” Grim says as he leaps in the air, slamming his sword into Krane’s so forcefully that sparks fly as the blades meet. He looks like a god as he leaps in the air, snow kicking up behind him, and his mouth open on a roar.

  Krane falls from the force, and Grim shoves the blade in his brother’s chest with a mighty rending of steel and flesh.

  The entire fleet that stands behind Krane gasps. The fallen brother holds the sword with his hands, still smiling even in the face of death. Grim has no remorse in his face as he pushes the sharp metal into his only brother’s chest.

  Krane’s hand start to bleed. Blood drips down the grooves of the sword. “You’re still weak,” he gurgles, choking on his own blood.

  “I’m not as weak as you,” Grim states with a twist of his sword.

  The Voided King’s hands fall limp. Red soaks the purity of the snow. And Grim removes his blade, kicking Krane into the ice-cold waters traveling beneath the bridge.

  “I am the warlord of the Vikings!” Grim yells to Krane’s people. “Make no mistake; I have no issues killing all of you. Release your women, and I shall spare your life. Refuse and meet Krane’s fate!”

  The two men holding me back shove me forward and flee, running inside the abandoned castle.

  I waste no time. I get onto my feet, gathering my ratted, ruined wedding gown, and run toward Grim. He tosses his sword and sprints down the bridge, embracing me in a tight hug. His hand cups the back of my head, and he lifts me off the ground until my feet dangle.

  “Sassa,” he whispers. There is so much emotion in that one word; it makes tears spring to my eyes.

  “You came for me,” I sob into the crook of his neck.

  “I’d come on my dying hands crawling to you, Sassa.” He pulls away and covers my lips with his, diving his tongue into my mouth. He tastes of victory and sweat. My favorite flavor of my warlord.

  “Take me home, Warlord.”

  He growls into my neck, nipping the sensitive skin. “My pleasure.”

  The words send an unspoken promise through my body, making my clit pulse. I know what he wants when we get home.

  And I want it, too.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Grim

  We enter the village as an army. A long line of women and men that want to join my force walk behind me as I lead Beast onto the land of my home. I open the gates and walk in, Sassa on top of Beast and the long trail of women and men wanting a better life.

  We must rebuild and expand to make sure they all have homes and places here. They don’t have to stay if they don’t want to, but it is important to me that I try the best I can to give them a life of joy and not pain. Those who were cruel, who mistreated women, I have chased off. They shall never harm these people again. Each of the men who have joined me have sworn oaths of loyalty. I intend for them to keep their oaths.

  “Grim!” everyone shouts. “Sassa!” They gasp in awe and clap as we enter. The only person I do not see is Einarr, and emotion lodges in my throat.

  That can only mean one thing. “Where is Einarr?” I whisper into Leiva’s ear.

  Her hand lands on my arm, and Sassa hops off the horse, taking her hand away, and dropping it to Leiva’s side. Leiva stares at Sassa with wide eyes, but the jealousy only makes my cock hard as nails.

  “I apologize, Sassa. I mean nothing by it,” the young woman says. “Einarr is alive. He battled an infection, but he will be back to full strength soon. A few more days’ rest and he should be as right as rain,” she states.

  A large smile breaks upon my face. I knew the big bastard would be alright. “Thank you, Leiva. I owe you.”

  She bows, wiping her hands on her apron. “It was a pleasure, Warlord.”

  “I want everyone here looked at for infections. I want them fed. And find beds for them. I know we have the room. I know we lost a few buildings to fires, but we can make it work.”

  “Aye, yes sir.”

  “I’m taking Sassa to my remote cabin. If you need us, that is where we will be. Abram?” I ask.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Welcome home,” I say with a nod of my head. I grab Sassa’s hand, pulling her behind me. “Take our horses to the stable. Feed and water them.”

  “Aye, sir!” he yells.

  “And you,” I growl into Sassa’s ear. “It’s time I had my way with you.”

  “Yes, sir,” she whispers.

  “But I want to bathe you first.” I drag her behind me, my cock bobbing in my tented pants as I hurry to the cabin. It’s nestled more in the forest, away from the rest of the village. I always used to bring my conquests up here so no one could bother me, now I’m bringing my wife.

  My fucking wife.

  The thought makes pre-come drip from my slit, pooling into my cotton trousers.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  I lift her into my arms when I notice she is walking with a limp. She squeaks in pain when I wrap one of my hands around her wrist, and I take a closer look at her, turning her wrist to and fro. I sneer at the bruises imprinting her skin. I almost didn’t notice because of all the grime on her skin. I turn her face to me and see her right jaw is swollen.

  “I’ll kill him.” I rasp.

  “You already did, my love.” She cups my face with her good hand, and I lean into the touch, my heart pounding harder than it ever did in battle.

  I carry her through the snow, past the plush pine trees, and into the sun as I climb up the hill. “I’d do it again.”

  “I know you would.” She lays her head on my chest and yawns. “I never thought this is how I would want my life to turn out, but I can’t imagine it any other way.”

  “Me either, Princess.” The cabin comes into view, and it is much smaller than my home in the village. I wanted our first time to be there, but since it burned down, I don’t know of another place to take her.

  I kick the door open and stop short when I smell a fresh burning
fire and a hot meal with wine on the table. Everything is clean. New sheets are on the bed, and the warmth melts the frost off my skin.

  “Oh, this is lovely.”

  “I don’t know how they knew.” I look around the freshly-remodeled home. In the corner sits a metal tin. Filled to the brim with lavender flowers and steaming water.

  “How did they know I love lavender in my water?”

  “Possibly your father?” I ask. I don’t know how the men would know, but I won’t question it any longer. “Are you hungry?”

  “Starved. He didn’t feed me while I was there,” she says.

  It makes my blood boil again at the thought of what that bastard did to her. I sit her on the chair and grab a plate, piling it high with chicken legs and a large mountain of mashed potatoes. I pour her a large goblet of wine, to the brim. Only the best for my bride.

  “Good goddesses, Grim. I can’t eat all that.”

  “You can and you will. You’ve lost weight in the day I wasn’t able to get to you.”

  “I have not,” she argues.

  “You have. And after tonight, you’ll be bearing my children, so you need to eat,” I nod, biting into a fresh piece of chicken. I grunt as the taste bursts over my tongue.

  “Oh, is that so?” she challenges me with a raised brow, taking a drumstick in her hand like a savage. She peals the meat off with her teeth, uncaring how unwomanly she looks. Makes me want that mouth swallowing my cock, doing unladylike things to it.

  “Aye, that’s right.”

  “Who says I want to have children?” she takes another bite of her chicken.

  I lick my fingers when I lean in. “You could already be pregnant.”

  “Impossible. We haven’t had sex.”

  “I came in you that night on the river,” I whisper into her ear before pulling back and taking another chicken leg from the pile.

  Her cheeks flush with remembrance, and her hand goes to her neck, clearing her throat from the hot memory. She takes a swig of her wine, and goes to put the goblet down, but thinks better of it. She chugs it. The wine spills from the sides of her lips to the tops of her breasts.