Page 23

CHAPTER 23

M ary

The next morning, to my surprise, Sven and Erik came into the bathing chamber just as we bed thralls were finishing drying ourselves with the fluffy towels. Even more startling were the ordinary modern casual clothes—Oxford shirts and jeans—they wore.

I had supposed Mor Astrid would lead us to the classroom again. The sight, as I lowered the thick terrycloth from my face, of my Herra and his shield-brother watching us, and clearly dressed to go outside the Viking sanctuary, made my eyes go wide and my heart start to thump.

Then, just as surprisingly, I saw that Mor Astrid had brought out some kind of large garments from a closet and held them draped over her arms.

“Sophie and Amélie, Yvette and Fleur,” she said, focusing on each of them as she spoke, “you may find your way to the classroom. Herra Aksel will give this morning’s lesson.”

My heart rate sped up even further as I understood that our mission had apparently begun. Camille and I looked at one another, our faces grave, and then at the other four of our new sisters.

“Yes, girls,” Erik said, “you should say goodbye to Mary and Camille.”

I swallowed hard. I had known the four of them for little more than a day, and I didn’t feel as close to them as I did to Camille. Parting from them, though, made me strangely wistful, perhaps because I knew it also meant parting from this strange, but captivating—in more ways than one—place.

We hugged awkwardly. The little flashes of helpless arousal I felt at their embrace, at the brushing of my nipples against theirs, made me conscious of my nudity in a way I hadn’t been the moment before. As the four who would stay behind left the bathing chamber, I looked over at Camille, feeling my cheeks grow warm as I remembered what Sven had said she and I would have to do after our whipping.

So when Mor Astrid gave us the things she held in her arms, which turned out to be roomy hooded cloaks, I felt briefly reassured. As I pulled the soft fabric around my naked body, though, the relief mixed itself thoroughly with trepidation. The cloak offered a semblance of modesty, but it also signaled that we were about to venture beyond the familiar confines of the underground complex—where of course my modesty would once again be ripped away.

Mor Astrid’s weathered hands adjusted my hood, her touch surprisingly gentle. “Remember, child,” she murmured, her pale blue eyes holding mine, “you carry the wisdom of Yggdrasil within you now. Let it guide you.”

I nodded, gulping against the lump in my throat. The events of the past few days swirled in my mind—the intense pleasure, the searing pain, the mind-bending visions. It all seemed like a dream, yet the soreness in my body and the weight of responsibility settling on my shoulders were undeniably real.

Sven and Erik led us through winding corridors I hadn’t seen before. The roughhewn stone walls gradually gave way to more finished surfaces, and I realized we were ascending. The air grew cooler, carrying a hint of diesel and rubber that seemed jarringly modern after days surrounded by ancient Viking aesthetics.

Finally, we emerged into what appeared to be an ordinary underground parking garage. The sudden shift in environment felt disorienting. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a harsh glow over rows of nondescript white vans. The concrete floor echoed with our footsteps, the sound bouncing off the low ceiling and blank walls.

“This garage,” Sven explained in a low voice, “ostensibly serves as storage for a multinational corporation’s spare vehicles. In reality, of course, it conceals the entrance to our sanctuary.”

I glanced around, trying to spot any sign of the hidden entrance we had just used. But the walls appeared seamless, offering no hint of the ancient wonders that lay beyond.

As we walked between the rows of vans, Sven’s large hand came to rest on the small of my back, a gesture both possessive and reassuring. “Listen carefully, my volur ,” he said, his voice just loud enough for Camille and me to hear. “What I’m about to tell you is crucial.”

I nodded, focusing all my attention on his words despite the nervous flutter in my stomach.

“In order to ensure the Guard accepts your cover story,” Sven continued, “we must create a data trail that matches it perfectly. From the moment we leave this garage, you girls will be visible to the kind of surveillance satellites and drones the Guard has access to.”

My eyes widened at this revelation. The thought of being watched from above, our every move potentially scrutinized by unseen eyes, sent a chill down my spine.

“Furthermore,” Sven added, his tone growing even more serious, “it’s quite possible they’ll even be able to look and hear inside the van.”

Erik opened the back doors of one of the vans to reveal an empty compartment with benches along both sides. I saw that the benches featured webbing restraints with Velcro closures, and I swallowed hard.

“Take off your cloaks, then go ahead and get in,” Erik told us. “As long as we’re in the garage, the Guard can’t hear or see us. We’ll brief you further once we’ve got you properly restrained.”

I looked at Camille, my heart pounding. Her dark eyes had gone wide with fear and uncertainty, a match for my own emotions. We hesitated for a moment, clutching our cloaks tightly around our bodies.

“You didn’t tell us the mission would start so soon,” Camille accused Erik, her voice trembling slightly amid her attempt at defiance.

Erik’s expression softened slightly. “We wanted you girls to get a good night’s sleep,” he explained, his tone gentler than I had come to expect from him. “You’ll need your strength for what’s to come.”

Camille’s brow furrowed, and I could see the conflict playing out across her face. Part of her wanted to submit, to trust in Erik’s judgment, but another part—the rebellious spirit that had initially caught Erik’s eye—bristled at being kept in the dark.

“But we’re not ready,” Camille protested, her voice rising slightly. “We haven’t had enough training, we don’t know enough about?—”

“Enough,” Erik cut her off, his tone sharpening. His eyes flashed dangerously as he regarded Camille. “Do you want a whipping before we even leave, girl?”

I saw Camille flinch at his words, her body instinctively curling in on itself. But beneath the fear in her eyes, I recognized something else—something I knew also stared out from my own gaze when I looked at Sven. Despite her protests, despite her fear and uncertainty, Camille loved Erik helplessly. Just as I loved Sven.

The realization hit me like a physical blow. We were utterly, hopelessly devoted to these men who had captured us, trained us, and were now sending us into danger. It defied all logic, went against everything I had ever believed about myself. Yet I couldn’t deny the truth of it.

I saw the same conflicted emotions warring in Camille’s eyes—love and fear, desire and uncertainty, the need to submit warring with the instinct for self-preservation. Her cheeks flushed, and she lowered her gaze. “No, Herra ,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

With trembling hands, Camille and I removed our cloaks. The cool air of the garage raised goosebumps on my skin, and I fought the urge to cover myself. Instead, I climbed into the van, settling onto one of the hard benches. Camille followed, sitting across from me.

Erik and Sven efficiently secured us with the webbing restraints at ankles, wrists, waist, and neck. The rough material bit into my skin, the physical reinforcement of my captive state. As Sven tightened the last strap around my neck, his fingers brushed against my breast. Even in this tense moment, my body responded to his touch, my nipples hardening traitorously.

“Now, girls,” Sven said, his voice low and serious, “listen carefully. We’re going to make the video for Beaumont at a chateau outside the city. It’s a place that’s been used in the past as a transfer point for captive concubines.”

My heart raced at his words. The reality of our situation was sinking in—we truly were about to become captives, at least as far as the outside world was concerned. I glanced at Camille, and saw fear mixed with the excitement in her face. I found that weirdly comforting; maybe our shared anxiety would help us work together?

Sven continued, his intense blue gaze moving between us. “In a few moments, we’re going to drive out onto the streets of Rouen. From that point on, you’ll be visible to the kind of surveillance the Guard has access to, including micro-drones we can’t even see. You must remember that from this moment forward, you are captives who have been kidnapped by a concubine broker for sale to a trillionaire.”

I swallowed hard, trying to process the implications. Every move we made, every word we spoke, would need to fit this cover story. The weight of our mission settled heavily on my shoulders.

“You’ve given us so little time to prepare,” I said softly, unable to keep the tremor from my voice. “How can we possibly pull this off?”

Sven’s expression softened slightly as he regarded me. “You underestimate yourselves, lille en ,” he said. “You’ve been preparing for this since the moment you arrived. Your training as bed thralls and as volur , even the few hours you’ve had of it, has led us to this moment. You’ve seen Yggdrasil; now you must learn to trust in its roots.”

His words sent a shiver through me. Had everything truly been orchestrated for this purpose—grown in the world tree, even? All the intense pleasures and pains we’d experienced, and all the ordeals to come?

Erik spoke up then, his voice gruff, but not unkind. “We’re going to have to gag you for the drive,” he explained. “It will at least free you from worrying about saying the wrong thing.”

I nodded, understanding the necessity even as my stomach churned with anxiety. Erik approached with a pair of ball gags that looked like they had come from some bland sex shop. I couldn’t help but recall, though, the first time I had had my voice stopped, when Sven had gagged me in his office with a leather strap. The memory of the leather pressing against my tongue, filling my mouth, sent an unexpected jolt of arousal through me.

Before they secured the gags, Sven looked each of us in the eye. “Remember, girls,” he told us, “at some point, you will have to speak. But the men who will use you aren’t interested in your opinions. You won’t ever have to say much, at least until the Guard captures you.”

I shivered at his words, both from fear and from the closeness of his body. Even in this tense moment, I couldn’t help but respond to his nearness.

“Once that happens,” Sven continued, “you will have become used to not mentioning the Sons of Odin, which is all you really must remember. The Guard will easily figure out that you’ve been the possessions of dominant men, but they will think that means Beaumont and his agents—that you were captured for sale to him. Remember the questions we taught you.”

I felt my brow crease as I brought them to mind—three questions that our Herra had told us could produce valuable intelligence through their apparent innocence. Why is it like that? How did you learn to do that? Has it always been that way? I nodded to Sven, and Camille echoed the gesture.

“Now,” Erik asked, “do you have any last questions, either of you?”

A thought came into my mind, from a helplessly wayward feeling in my body, as I contemplated what it all meant—as I pictured Beaumont… and his ‘agents.’ A fiction, yes, but…

“ Herra …” I asked, chewing on my lower lip as I realized I didn’t know how to put the question. Then I blurted out, “Should we… should we pretend to… um, you know… like it? When they… when they use us, I mean?”

My tummy flipped at the sound of my own words and I felt my cheeks fill with hot blood. Sven sighed, his eyes softening into compassion and understanding. As he answered, he looked from me to Camille and back again.

“ Lille en ,” he said softly, “you won’t have to pretend.”

I felt my cheeks flush hot at Sven’s words, a confusing mix of shame and arousal traveling through me. The implication was clear—I would enjoy it when other men used me, whether I wanted to or not. My body had been trained to respond to dominant touch, to crave the pleasure that came with submission. The realization terrified me, even as I tried to press down the helpless excitement it roused.

Sven’s large hand cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen. “ Lille en ,” he murmured, his voice gentle, “you must understand that your Herra understands your need for domination by strangers. Truly, you don’t need permission to enjoy it, but I give you that permission nonetheless.”

I leaned into his touch, desperate for the comfort and reassurance it provided. How had I come to this point, where the thought of being used by unknown men could provoke such a response in me? Just days ago, I had been a normal college student, my biggest worry being my next exam.

“But Herra ,” I whispered, my voice trembling, “what if… what if I enjoy it too much? What if I forget my purpose, forget you?”

Sven’s eyes met mine, filled with an intensity that made my breath catch in my throat. “You won’t forget, Mary,” he said firmly. “The connection between us, between a volva and her master, goes beyond mere physical pleasure. You carry a part of me with you always, just as I carry a part of you.”

His words settled something within me, a fear I hadn’t even fully acknowledged. I nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat.

“Are you ready?” Sven asked, holding up the ball gag.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. “Yes, Herra ,” I replied, opening my mouth obediently.

The rubber ball pressed against my tongue, filling my mouth. Sven secured the straps behind my head, his fingers lingering for a moment at the nape of my neck. The gag wasn’t uncomfortable, but it served as an urgent reminder of my helplessness, of the role I was about to play.

Across from me, Erik finished securing Camille’s gag. Her dark eyes met mine. We were in this together, bound not just by the physical restraints, but by our shared inner conflict.