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EPILOGUE

M ary

A week later I stood beside Camille, my bare feet warm on the polished stone floor of the vast underground cavern—just as they had felt in the New York Mithraeum, but now I knew why. The eternal flame blazed even here, above the Arctic Circle. The space was enormous—cathedral-like in its proportions, with a ceiling that soared at least a hundred feet above us. Deep though we were beneath the frozen tundra of the coast of Hudson Bay, the air felt pleasantly warm against my naked skin, the geothermal heat pumps working silently to maintain a comfortable temperature throughout the sprawling facility. The heavy coats we had worn aboard the ship, and then the helicopter that had brought us here, seemed a distant memory.

“And this,” Matthew said, gesturing toward the center of the cavern where workers in white jumpsuits moved with purposeful efficiency around a skeletal framework of gleaming metal, “is where we’re constructing the primary habitation module for Athena.”

I gazed in wonder at the beginnings of humanity’s salvation. The structure reminded me a little of pictures I’d seen of the abandoned International Space Station, but on a much grander scale—curved segments, their compartments and corridors clearly designed to house hundreds, perhaps thousands of people. The metal gleamed under the powerful lights suspended from the cavern ceiling, the workers appearing almost ant-like in comparison to the massive scale of what they were building.

“It’s incredible,” I whispered, my voice hushed with genuine awe. “How long have you been working on this?”

“The Pretorian Guard began planning Athena nearly seventy years ago,” Matthew replied, his big hand coming to rest lightly on the small of my back. The casual possessiveness of the touch made me shiver, a reminder of my new status as a possession shared between two dominant men and their clandestine organizations. “The excavation of this facility began at the end of the last century, under the guise of a classified military installation.”

I nodded, conscious of Sven’s watchful gaze. Since the Sons of Odin’s agreement with the Pretorian Guard, I had become Matthew’s property as well as Sven’s—a living embodiment of the alliance between the two ancient orders. My body served as both the seal on their pact and, at times, even the conduit through which information flowed between them. It still seemed a strange arrangement, one that would have terrified me mere months ago. It also felt strangely right, after all that had happened—as if I had found my true purpose in the service of not one but two powerful men.

“Have you heard about Yvette and Amélie?” Camille asked suddenly, her voice bright with excitement as she turned to me. “Erik got a message from Aksel yesterday.”

I smiled, grateful for the momentary distraction from the weight of what we were witnessing. “Yes! Sven showed me the message. They’re both pregnant!” I couldn’t keep the note of wistful longing from my voice. Despite the enormity of our mission, despite the looming collapse of civilization as we knew it, something in me yearned for that most fundamental of female experiences.

“I can’t believe they’re going to be mothers,” Camille said, her dark eyes dancing with delight. “Do you think they’ll have girls or boys?”

“The Sons of Odin tend to father sons,” Erik said, his hand coming to rest on Camille’s back just as Matthew’s had on mine. I looked over my shoulder at Sven, feeling my brow cloud as I beamed my plea into his eyes. Smiling, my first Herra stepped forward and rubbed my neck the way only he knew how.

Camille turned toward Erik, her eyes shining with something that made my heart catch in my throat—a yearning so primal, so feminine that it transcended our bizarre circumstances.

“Are you going to put a baby in me, Herra ?” she asked, her voice soft but direct, the question hanging in the air like a fragile offering.

Erik’s weathered face softened, creases appearing at the corners of his eyes as a rare, genuine smile transformed his usually stern expression. He drew Camille against his side, his large hand spanning her narrow waist with casual possessiveness.

“I’d like to do that as soon as possible, lille en ,” he said, his deep voice carrying a tenderness I hadn’t often heard from him. “The Sons of Odin value children above all else. They are our future, our legacy.”

Heat flooded my cheeks as Sven’s hand moved from my neck to my bottom, his palm warm and firm against my bare flesh. He squeezed gently, the pressure both reassuring and unmistakably possessive. The unspoken message in his touch was clear: I, too, would carry his child when he decided the time was right. The thought sent a confusing mixture of emotions swirling through me—terror at bringing a child into a world on the brink of collapse, yet also a deep, primal yearning to create life with this man who had claimed me so completely that he could even share me with his erstwhile enemy.

My pussy clenched involuntarily at the thought, and I knew Sven felt the subtle shift in my body. His ice-blue eyes darkened with knowing amusement, his fingers tracing small, maddening circles on the curve of my bottom. The intimacy of the gesture, performed so casually in front of the others, made my blush deepen further.

Desperate to redirect the conversation away from my body’s mortifying responses, I gestured toward the skeletal framework of the space station rising before us.

“When do you think it will actually be launched?” I asked, my voice slightly higher than normal. “It looks like there’s still so much work to be done.”

Matthew’s expression grew somber, the momentary lightness fading from his face. He led us toward a raised observation platform at the edge of the cavern, where digital displays showed various aspects of the project in meticulous detail.

“The economic collapse has entered an unpredictable phase,” he said, his tone shifting to that of the analyst, the strategist, rather than the dominant male who had claimed shared ownership of my body. “Our models suggest things will eventually become very bad—worse than most people can imagine.”

He activated one of the displays with a wave of his hand, bringing up a map of North America overlaid with pulsing red zones and arrows indicating movement patterns.

“The United States as we know it will cease to exist,” he continued, his voice matter-of-fact though his words sounded frankly apocalyptic. “The country will fracture into territories governed by warlords—some corporate, some military, some religious. Through it all, even if we must abandon the New York Mithraeum, as it seems will be necessary, this facility will remain as a beacon of civilization’s highest aspirations, especially with the assistance of the new alliance between the Guard and the Sons of Odin.”

I studied the shifting patterns on the display, the reality of what we faced hitting me with renewed force. The virus that Georgy had planned to unleash on Paris’ power grid had been only the beginning—a test run for what would become widespread chaos as society’s foundations crumbled. Thanks to the information I’d provided, the Guard had been able to neutralize that specific threat, but the larger collapse remained inevitable.

“The Guard’s analysts estimate it will be between fifty and a hundred years before we can safely launch station Athena without interference from a government able to stop the effort,” Matthew continued, his fingers tracing the trajectory lines on another display. “In the meantime, we will work together to make life livable for as many people as we can.”

I nodded, understanding the enormity of what he was saying. The space station wouldn’t save everyone—couldn’t save everyone. But it represented hope, a seed of civilization that might one day blossom anew, either in orbit or upon a healed Earth. Until then, our task was to preserve what we could of humanity’s knowledge, its culture, its highest achievements.

“Mary,” Sven said, his voice drawing my attention away from the displays, “you have a special role to play as the possession both of me and of Matthew.”

I turned to face him, conscious of my nakedness before these fully clothed men. The leather collar around my neck felt suddenly heavier, the symbol of my submission to not one but two masters. In the week since our arrival at Athena base, I had been kept naked at all times, my Columba ’s leathers tucked away in my suitcase to be used for discipline and pleasure by my masters as they chose, but the collar had remained.

“The Guard needs your volva skills,” Matthew explained, his dark eyes serious as they held mine. “You present a different view on events from that of our analysts. Your connection to Yggdrasil offers insights our most sophisticated models cannot provide.”

I swallowed hard, both humbled and terrified by the responsibility being placed upon my shoulders. My ability to navigate the branches of the world tree remained unpredictable, dependent on states of consciousness I couldn’t always control. Yet these men—these powerful, dominant men—were building their alliance partly around my visions.

“I understand that you will have childbearing and childrearing to do, as befits your role as Sven’s bed thrall, first and foremost,” Matthew continued, his tone softening slightly. His hand moved from my back to my belly, resting there with gentle possessiveness. “That is important work, essential to our long-term survival.”

The touch sent a shiver through me, a mixture of fear and anticipation at the thought of carrying a child—Sven’s child, for that represented a part of the arrangement. When the time came for my breeding, I would return to Rouen.

“Even through those circumstances, when the time comes,” Sven said, his eyes holding mine with an intensity that made my heart flutter, “Mary will be available when possible to assist in coordinating the efforts of our two groups.”

I nodded, accepting the weight of responsibility that had been placed upon my shoulders. In the span of mere weeks, I had transformed from a confused college student into something I still struggled to fully comprehend—a volva , a vessel, a connection between ancient powers and modern men who sought to preserve civilization through the coming darkness.

Matthew led us away from the observation platform, through a series of gleaming corridors that branched off from the main cavern. Despite being deep underground, there was no sense of claustrophobia, no hint of the crushing weight of earth above us. Instead, the space felt open, almost airy, as if the architects had somehow defied the very nature of the Arctic tundra above us—civilization in the face of nature’s wild challenges.

We passed several workers who nodded respectfully to Matthew and Sven, their eyes carefully averted from Camille’s and my naked forms. I had grown somewhat accustomed to my nudity in the presence of clothed others over the past week, but still felt the familiar heat of embarrassment warming my cheeks and chest. The contrast between our bare skin and the practical, utilitarian clothing of those around us never failed to bring to mind my status—as a woman and as a living symbol of my masters’ dominance, always available for their use.

The residential section of the facility was more warmly appointed than the industrial areas we had toured. The stark functionality gave way to a subtle luxury—not ostentatious, but comfortable. Carpeting softened our footsteps, and the walls had been painted in soft, muted tones.

“These will be your quarters during your stay,” Matthew said, gesturing toward a set of doors spaced evenly along the hallway. “Erik and Camille here, Sven and Mary next door, and I’m just across the hall should you need anything.”

The arrangement made my pulse quicken slightly. The proximity of Matthew’s quarters to ours was no coincidence, I knew. Though I belonged first and foremost to Sven, the sharing of my body with Matthew was part of the agreement that bound our groups together. The thought sent a confused shiver of anticipation and apprehension down my spine.

Erik guided Camille into their assigned quarters with a gentle hand on her lower back. She cast a quick glance at me over her shoulder, her dark eyes communicating a mixture of excitement and nervousness that I understood perfectly. We had traveled so far together, my sister volva and I, from that first bewildering encounter beneath Rouen, to Beaumont’s chateau, to New York, and finally to this strange new reality beneath the frozen north.

Matthew’s hand brushed mine, the brief contact sending an electric tingle across my skin. “I’ll leave you to rest,” he said, his dark eyes holding mine for a moment longer than necessary before he turned and crossed the hall to his own quarters. The door slid shut behind him with a soft pneumatic hiss, leaving Sven and me alone in the corridor.

Sven reached past me to press his palm against the scanner beside our assigned door. It slid open silently, revealing a surprisingly spacious suite beyond. Though not lavish by surface-world standards, the accommodations were far more comfortable than I had expected for an underground facility at the edge of the world. A king-sized bed dominated one wall. Soft lighting illuminated the space, casting a warm glow that made the utilitarian design feel almost homey.

As the door closed behind us, sealing us into our private sanctuary, I felt the atmosphere between us shift. The public personas we had maintained throughout the tour—his as the diplomatic representative of the Sons of Odin, mine as the shared possession that symbolized their alliance—fell away like discarded garments. Here, in this space that was ours alone, we could be simply Sven and Mary, master and bed thrall, Herra and volva .

Without conscious thought, I sank to my knees before him, the plush carpet cushioning my descent. The position felt right, felt natural—an acknowledgment of the bond between us that had begun with my foolish attempt to seduce the man who had made me so thoroughly his. My heart fluttered in my chest as I gazed up at him, taking in the powerful lines of his body, the broad shoulders that had carried the weight of his ancient order’s survival through these tumultuous days.

His eyes darkened as they met mine, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile that made my pulse race. There was tenderness in that smile, yes, but also something primal, something possessive that made my pussy clench with anticipation. This was my Herra , the man who had claimed me so completely that he could share me with another and yet never lose his place in my heart.

“My little volva ,” he murmured, his voice carrying that perfect blend of affection and authority that never failed to send shivers down my spine. “You’ve done so well these past days.”

His praise warmed me from within, melting something tight and anxious that had coiled in my chest since our arrival at Athena base. The weight of what we had witnessed—the skeletal framework of humanity’s last hope rising from the frozen earth, the maps showing the inevitable collapse of the world as we knew it—had left me feeling small, insignificant in the face of such monumental forces. Yet here, kneeling before my master, I found my center again.

“Thank you, Herra ,” I whispered, my voice catching slightly with emotion. “I’m trying to be worthy of your trust.”

His hand reached down to cup my cheek, the callused palm warm against my skin. I leaned into the touch, my eyes drifting closed for a moment as I savored the simple pleasure of contact with Sven’s strong body.

I looked up at him, my heart quickening at the familiar sound of his zipper. His strong fingers worked methodically, opening his trousers with unhurried confidence. When he finally freed his hardening cock, I felt my breath catch in my throat. No matter how many times I had seen it, tasted it, felt it inside me, the sight of my Herra ’s manhood never failed to inspire a mixture of awe and desire that left me trembling.

It jutted proudly from the nest of golden curls at his groin, thickening visibly under my reverent gaze. The broad head glistened slightly with the first pearl of his arousal, the prominent veins along the shaft standing in stark relief against the pale skin. My mouth watered at the sight, my body responding with a surge of wetness between my thighs.

“Is this what you need, lille en ?” he asked, his voice dropping to that register that seemed to bypass my ears entirely and vibrate directly against my clit.

I swallowed hard, my tongue darting out to moisten suddenly dry lips. “Yes, Herra ,” I whispered, the words emerging breathier than I’d intended. “Please. Let me please you.”

I paused, gathering my courage before adding the request that had been burning in my mind since our arrival at Athena base. I wanted to see more, to travel the branches further and see where they took me. I had learned so much—but there remained so much more to know.

“And…” I breathed. “If I’m… a, you know… a good little slut… send me to Yggdrasil?”

The End