Page 33 of The Magic of Vanaheim

Talvinen collapsed on top of him, pressing soft kisses behind Håkon’s ear.

“Can you feel my seed all over you? How it mingles with yours?” Talvinen whispered reverently. “This shall consummate our marriage, marking you as mine and me as yours.”

How Håkon wished these promises would be more than empty words. The way Talvinen cuddled him and spread kisses all over his face almost made him believe in this dream for a while. But all too soon, he sensed Talvinen’s breathing change as he prepared to get up.

“As nice as this is—” Talvinen mumbled and rose to a kneeling position. “I’ll be right back.”

Right. The marriage was consummated, the rituals fulfilled, so of course Talvinen had no interest in him beyond that. Håkon forced himself to his feet, although his legs were trembling, barely able to support his weight. Better to die standing when Talvinen decided to get rid of him.

Using a sheet, he swiped the mess on his belly away and stumbled towards the door. Was there a chamber where he was supposed to sleep? Would he be dragged back to the dungeons? Or would Talvinen strike him down where he stood?

He made it as far as the door before he nearly collided with Talvinen. As he recoiled, Håkon almost lost his balance on the marble floor.

Talvinen had put on a fine silken robe decorated with runes and magical symbols, but hadn’t bothered to close it. In stark contrast to his regal appearance, he balanced a tray of food and a collection of towels as if he were a thrall attending to Håkon.

“Where are you headed?”

“I—” Håkon fumbled for words. “Where am I to sleep?”

Talvinen regarded him with a puzzled expression.

“In bed? With me?” The boy’s face fell. “As long as you don’t want to have a guest room prepared.”

“Your bed?” Håkon must’ve misheard. Allowing him to stay the night would mean treating him like an actual spouse.

“Wait a minute, what were you thinking?”

“You have your marriage,” Håkon pointed out, unsure where this discussion was going. “You can get rid of me now.”

Talvinen’s features softened. “Get back to bed, my husband.”

Håkon obeyed. He could feel the exhaustion catching up with him, his body drained from fighting and fucking. Although he tried to hide his weakened state from Talvinen, he was sure the boy needed only one look at him to figure out that Håkon was easy prey.

“Lie on your back. I’ll clean you up.”

“I can do so myself,” Håkon said. He suspected Talvinen wouldn’t listen to his claims, but the need to show strength was too deeply ingrained in him. If he’d shown such weakness at his father’s court, he’d be dead. So why did Talvinen bother with him? TheVanrwas neither stupid nor powerless. He must have a plan Håkon couldn’t figure out yet.

“Shhh, you don’t have to. Let me tend to you just tonight.”

So he allowed Talvinen to clean him. Almost dozing off because of the gentle touches, Håkon didn’t find it in himself to care. Not tonight. Once satisfied with his work, Talvinen covered him with a blanket.

“You can sleep soon. But drink some water first, and I want you to have a few more bites. Here.”

Drinking greedily from the offered cup, Håkon only now realized how thirsty he was. Talvinen procured a plate with a sweet-smelling cake next. He scooped the food up with his bare hands and brought it to Håkon’s lips. Håkon froze.

“It’s customary to feed your spouse on the wedding night,” Talvinen said when he noticed Håkon’s hesitation. “It symbolizes that I’ll be looking after you. I’ll make sure you’re always cared for and protected.”

Why? Why did the boy have to say these things?

“I don’t need—” Håkon started, but bit his lips. Why should he lie? Whether he liked it or not, he needed Talvinen’s protection. He’d die the moment he lost it.

Håkon took a careful bite.

The cake tasted delicious. Like at the feast, Håkon was sure he was fed the best food theVanirhad to offer, and he reveled in his husband’s gentle care almost against his will.

“Thank you,” Håkon mumbled between bites.

Talvinen smiled at him. “You’re welcome.”