Page 41 of The Magic of Vanaheim

It’s only a matter of time, Håkon told himself again and again.Don’t let yourself be fooled. Don’t fall for his games.Only his treacherous body already had. Morning after morning, Håkon awoke in a shameful state of arousal, as if he were once again a young warrior on the cusp of manhood.

And at night hedreamed…

He was back behind the shield wall, locked in a fierce duel with Talvinen while the Battle of Saeborg raged around them. Exchanging blows in a fast succession, they danced around each other. And even in the midst of battle, Håkon couldn’t help but admire the Vanr chieftain. Sure, he was young, but he led his forces with a natural authority and he fought with the lethal grace of a seasoned warrior. So much for King Bergelmir’s claim that the Vanir were weaklings. By now, Håkon should’ve expected the trap.

Maybe he had been distracted by the otherworldly green of Talvinen’s eyes, or maybe he had fallen prey to a seiðr woven by the sorcerer, but suddenly Håkon was lying on his back, his battle ax ripped from his grasp and Talvinen’s blade at his throat.

“Yield.”

“Never.”

Talvinen only smirked. “Seize Bloodaxe and bring him to my quarters,” he ordered his warriors.

Håkon struggled, but it was no use. The guards dragged him into the citadel, and once inside the royal chambers, he was bound and stripped of his armor. He was shoved to his knees at the foot of the large bed dominating the room.

“Why don’t we cut his hair, make him look like the pathetic thrall he is?” someone asked, grabbing a fistful of his hair and forcing him to bare his throat.

“No,” Håkon hissed, desperately trying to escape the man’s grasp. “I’m no thrall, I’m not—”

“Let go of him.”

The men backed away from him as if Håkon had burned them.

“Out. All of you. I need to talk to Bloodaxe alone.”

“But, my lord—”

“Out, I said!”

The warriors all but fled, leaving Håkon alone with their chieftain. Clad in his leather armor and sword still in hand, Talvinen seemed to have rushed away from the battlefield. He lifted his blade—turned a dark violet by Jotunn blood—to tilt Håkon’s chin upward.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this, Prince Håkon. Have you considered my offer?”

“I’ll never join you,” Håkon spat, although he had thought of nothing else since Talvinen had offered him a place at his side.

Sliding the tip of his sword from Håkon’s throat all the way down his bare chest to catch at the hem of his breeches, Talvinen smirked at him.

“Oh, but I said nothing about simply joining my forces. I offered you my hand in marriage.”

“I certainly won’t marry you!”

“No?” Talvinen’s heated gaze traveled down his body, making Håkon’s skin feel too tight. “Why don’t I show you the pleasures of a warrior’s company before you make a rash decision?”

Weaving a seiðr, Talvinen stepped closer. His proximity was getting to Håkon’s head, leaving him flushed and out of breath for no apparent reason. Håkon blinked sluggishly, and from one moment to the next he found himself spread out on his back on Talvinen’s bed. Naked.

Gasping, Håkon tried to get up, but his wrists were pinned above his head by the spell and his knees pushed apart.

“Beautiful,” Talvinen commented, watching him like one would a fine piece of jewelry or a precious sword.

Håkon had no idea what was wrong with him, but being laid bare for his enemy while Talvinen himself was still fully clothed, did something to him. Shameful arousal pooled in his belly, making his cock harden.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Talvinen calmly removed his leather gloves and bracers. Håkon was mesmerized by theplay of muscles in Talvinen’s arms; he would’ve never expected a sorcerer to look like this. Gently, Talvinen brushed a sweaty strand of hair from Håkon’s brow.

“What do you enjoy when you lie with a lover, Bloodaxe?”

“I’d enjoy plunging a dagger between your ribs—oh—”

Håkon had to swallow down a surprised moan as Talvinen stroked over his cock, the touch soft but oh so delicious.