Page 18

When this entire ordeal was over, he owed Talvinen an apology. His husband had been right—this ritual wasn’t a joke, and Svanhild was a bitch.

Sitting across from him in the sweltering darkness of the sweating hut, the seeress grinned at Hakon. Her beauty was of the stomach-turning kind, a viper coiled to strike, lacking anything gentle or inviting. Fair hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, framing sharply cut features and intelligent eyes that sparkled in the firelight.

She watched him sweat for an indiscernible period until Hakon thought he might pass out from the heat.

“What a devoted little bride you are.” Svanhild’s voice dripped with false sweetness. “You’re pretty enough. But a Jotunn warrior playing consort to a Vanr prince—who would’ve expected this?”

Hakon refused to take the bait. Steam rose in thick curls from the heated stones in the center of the room, and the stifling heat inside the hut made it hard to speak, anyway.

“You’re not fooling anyone, you know.” Svanhild smiled, a cruel curve to her lips. “No matter how doe-eyed you look at Talvinen, no matter how dutifully you kneel beside him, you’ll always be just a bastard, the son of a thrall.”

Hakon’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing. He refused to give her the satisfaction.

“Does Talvinen whisper sweet lies to you at night?” she continued, her voice a mocking sing-song. “Does he tell you that you’re his equal? That you’re more than a dancing bear to amuse the court? A convenient way to annoy Bergelmir?”

Hands curled into fists, Hakon took a slow breath, allowing the heat of the stones to seep deeper into his body. He focused on Talvinen’s words, spoken softly in the darkness of the barn the previous night. I love you, Hakon Bloodaxe. I love you so much. I need you to know that I will always protect you. Whatever strange twist of fate had led him to Talvinen, it was undeniable that his husband adored him, had so ever since he’d been a boy allowed at the ting .

“Why don’t you spit your venom elsewhere?” Hakon growled when he couldn’t listen to her rambling anymore. “I have a ritual to prepare for.”

Svanhild’s smile froze. She looked as if she had tasted something bitter.

“Don’t you mind being fucked by him like a woman? I hear the Jotnar find it unmanly to spread their legs for another man.”

“I hear the Vanir don’t care,” Hakon shot back, wrestling down the familiar shame. “As a matter of fact, I was told multiple times that the concept of a bastard is considered foreign in these lands. In my husband’s eyes, I’m the heir to the Frostland Throne.”

Svanhild’s answering laughter was shrill. Hakon considered it a win.

“So confident. But the gods see all, Hakon. And they do not favor those born of lies.”

“Is the trollkona bothering you?” Talvinen was suddenly behind him.

Hakon hadn’t even heard him enter, and it took all his willpower not to flinch.

“Nah. Her blithering is considered a friendly chat in Jotunheim,” he said, but still leaned into Talvinen’s cool body, sighing in relief.

Svanhild’s eyes widened as she watched Talvinen’s hands run over Hakon’s bare chest, following the lines of his tattoos. Had she hoped Talvinen would be harmed in the ritual?

“Surprised?” Talvinen asked, wrapping Hakon in his arms completely.

“That you can touch his tattoos? Don’t be silly. It’s a minor feat.”

“If you say so. Anyway, you can leave. We don’t need you here.”

“But the ritual—”

“Do you really think I’ll let you touch my husband?” Talvinen laughed, and Hakon was glad he’d never been the focus of his ire. “I’m more than capable of preparing him for the ritual. And I surely don’t need your poisoned ‘ assistance .’”

Svanhild rose, and Hakon watched her retreat with dark glee. Also, the way Talvinen talked about preparing him for the ritual sounded… intriguing.

“Can you stand the heat a little longer?” Talvinen asked, paying Svanhild no heed anymore, his sole focus on Hakon.

“Sure.” Only moments ago, the heat had felt stifling, but now, with Talvinen’s cool hands resting on his shoulders, it was bearable. Hakon had an inkling that Talvinen could make this whole ordeal rather pleasurable.

“Good. Turn around and lie down on your back, dróttning .”

Watching him with a hungry expression, Talvinen laid him out between the hot stones like an offering.

“You have no idea how gorgeous you are.”

Talvinen leaned down and licked a broad stripe from Hakon’s navel to his collarbone.

“You taste good as well.”

Hakon had to stifle a moan. How had Talvinen managed to make him all but forget about Svanhild and her taunting and become unbearably aroused in a matter of seconds?

Kissing him deeply, Talvinen undid the laces of Hakon’s pants, the only clothes he was still wearing.

“Lift your hips.”

Without hesitation, Hakon did as he was told.

“Good boy.” Talvinen continued to undress him. “Now tell me, did this bitch say anything that bothers you?”

“No.”

“What did she tell you, then?”

“Nothing I haven’t heard before.”

“Liars,” Talvinen growled, eyes shining with conviction and righteous fury. “They’re all liars. Svanhild. Bergelmir. Even Arngrim. I need you to come to me whenever you doubt it.”

Hakon could only nod. He was dazed by the heat, by the sight of his husband. Talvinen’s touch was intoxicating.

“Very good,” Talvinen purred.

Settling comfortably between Hakon’s parted legs, Talvinen uncorked a vial he’d brought with him. He poured a generous amount of sweet-smelling oil over his hands and Hakon’s chest. The scent reminded Hakon of Njord’s tent; the thrall’s skin had been covered in the same substance.

“Why was Svanhild so keen for your uncle and the Odinsson to perform the ritual?” Hakon’s breath hitched as Talvinen started to spread the oil methodically all over Hakon’s upper body. His touch felt so wonderful.

“She thrives in the halls of impressionable kings and vain chieftains. She’s clever and ambitious. But for a High Priestess, she isn’t a talented vala .”

It was difficult to follow Talvinen’s words while he deftly massaged down Hakon’s sides and smeared more oil over his thighs.

“Turn over.”

Talvinen had seen him naked before, but offering his back like this, legs parted and ass on display, made a stab of self-consciousness twist in Hakon’s gut. He did as Talvinen told him, anyway.

A deep, contented sigh fell from Talvinen’s lips. Knowing it was him who’d elicited it filled Hakon with contentment. And it calmed his nerves.

“What a delicious sight you are.” Talvinen dealt a playful smack to his ass that had Hakon moaning. Then he continued to treat Hakon’s backside with the same dedication as his chest. “You see, unlike Svanhild, my uncle is a very powerful vala . And having a captive god serve as a vessel would have lent the ritual even more power.”

Hakon felt himself falling deeper and deeper into a state of relaxed arousal as Talvinen kept kneading his ass and thighs, Talvinen’s fingers dipping between his cheeks now and then, circling his hole.

“She could never hope to conduct such a powerful blessing herself,” Talvinen continued conversationally. “And she wants recognition for it.”

Helpless little moans escaped Hakon. Listening to Talvinen talk politics while he shoved his fingers up Hakon’s ass had no right to be this hot.

“Vanaheim’s harvests will be blessed this year. But I’m going to deny Svanhild any credit for it. Instead, my people should worship the earth you walk on because you are willing to go through this ceremony with me.”

“Stop talking like that or I won’t make it till the ritual.”

A delicious twist of Talvinen’s fingers made him whine.

“Don’t think you only have to come once tonight and be done, dróttning . So much pleasure awaits you,” Talvinen said gleefully but retreated his fingers.

Hakon groaned at the loss.

“Here, do you know what this is?” Talvinen asked.

An object entered Hakon’s line of vision. It consisted of a handle that could have belonged to a ceremonial dagger, but it ended in a polished wooden bulb instead of a blade. Talvinen coated the wooden end with oil as if he was preparing his own cock to—

“Your staff,” Hakon rasped, spreading his legs a little wider in an involuntary movement.

“Clever boy,” Talvinen chuckled. “And not your typical vala’s staff either. I created it for a special occasion, just like this one. The jewels will gleam so prettily against your skin.”

Norns, Talvinen had crafted this thing with him in mind, hadn’t he?

“Do you think you can take it?”

“Yes,” Hakon said, way too eager for his own liking, but he couldn’t help it.

“Then relax.”

First, he felt Talvinen’s grounding hand settle against his hip, and then his other parting Hakon’s cheeks. The nudge of the staff against his entrance. And then its slow slide in, in, in . Hakon was trembling by the time the staff was settled inside him. He felt like he could burst and climax on the spot if he so much as moved an inch.

“I—I don’t think I can walk like this,” he managed through gritted teeth. He wouldn’t come before the ritual had even begun. He wouldn’t.

Talvinen chuckled, playfully nudging the staff a little further inside. Hakon groaned.

“So far gone already, I see. Let’s get started then, so your precious ecstasy doesn’t go to waste.”

Hakon allowed his husband to help him to his feet, but the standing position changed the staff’s angle, making Hakon nearly black out from the delightful pressure. His knees buckling under him, he desperately clung to Talvinen’s shoulders.

“Talvi—”

“I know. I’ve got you.”

Talvinen must’ve put his coat around Hakon to cover him and then picked him up, because the next thing Hakon knew, he lay panting and sweating in Talvinen’s arms as his husband carried him to the shore.

The sun had vanished behind the mountains, but the full moon hung in the sky. A strange twilight shrouded the fjord. The camp had gone quiet except for chanting voices carried toward them by the wind. But the beach in front of them was empty and white fog crept up from the sea, hiding parts of the fjord from view. Hakon opened his mouth to ask Talvinen what would happen next, but Talvinen shushed him before a sound could escape him.

Out of the billowing fog, Njord approached them with two others: Svanhild and another woman, tall and dark-haired, whom Hakon didn’t recognize. They were barefoot and near silent, and the whole scene would have Hakon on edge if Talvinen weren’t a steady reassurance, cradling him close to his chest.

Njord smiled at them but didn’t speak as Talvinen sat Hakon down on his feet and guided him by his shoulders to stand right in front of him. Shuddering under the touch, Hakon noted with detached arousal how Talvinen slipped the cloak from Hakon’s shoulders. He must’ve taken a small step backwards then, because his back was suddenly pressed against Talvinen’s front.

“I’ve got you, dróttning ,” Talvinen whispered into his ear and wrapped his arms around him, curling one hand possessively around Hakon’s straining cock.

Hakon twisted in Talvinen’s grip to hide his face against his husband’s shoulder. It was humiliating to know others could see him like this, but on the other hand, having somebody witness Talvinen’s desire for him had an appeal of its own.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the volur holding up a wooden bowl each, whispering incantations. They didn’t touch Hakon, drawing runes in the air instead, while Talvinen idly caressed his body. Hakon shuddered under his touch, and the chant of the volur lulled his mind into a state of haziness. His eyes fluttered shut.

“Stay with me, dróttning ,” Talvinen ordered, and Hakon’s world shrank down to his husband’s melodic voice and every point of contact between their bodies.

He had no idea how much time had passed, only that he was unbearably aroused and that Talvinen had been supporting most of his weight for some time now. To Hakon’s relief, the volur finally moved away from them, and Talvinen guided him to the shore. The cold waves poured over his bare feet and Hakon, dizzy with lust, was grateful that his thoughts had cleared to some extent. The freezing water felt refreshing on his heated skin.

Like a granite altar, a large rock rose from the waves, and Talvinen led him to it. Hakon had no idea if the thing had been there a blink ago, but ultimately, he didn’t care. They stopped in front of it, and Talvinen prompted him to turn around. He was a tall, dark shadow against the sky’s backdrop, his eyes sparkling with desire. A god of sex and magic indeed. “Remember that you can stop me with a word whenever you need.”

It took Hakon some effort to push through the lust-filled daze and gather his thoughts.

“Yes,” he whispered, and because he felt like this statement alone wouldn’t reassure his husband, he twisted in his grip and pressed a messy kiss to Talvinen’s lips. “I trust you with my life.”

“Good,” Talvinen said, sounding choked up. “Such a good boy. Let’s gift Vanaheim with our blessing, then.”

He allowed Talvinen to more or less carry him up the rock, as Hakon’s limbs didn’t seem to be cooperating. Once at the top, he slumped down on his back, gasping up at the sky. Talvinen watched him fondly. Only when Hakon had recovered a little did his husband place his hands on Hakon’s chest.

Talvinen hesitated. “Tell me to stop if you don’t like something, if it gets too much,” he said again.

The fool! Despite his youthful cockiness, he truly had no idea how much Hakon wanted him.

“I trust you,” Hakon repeated. “With. My. Life.”

Talvinen froze, something in his gaze changing, and Hakon thought he would have to repeat himself a third time. But the next thing he knew, he found himself pressed flat against the smooth surface of the altar and Talvinen’s seier pouring into him. There was no other way to describe it. It felt like floating in the most luxurious bath, the touch not only superficial but reaching inside of him, soothing and glowing, and somehow more intense than what Talvinen had done the other night.

Talvinen growled, his eyes glowing with an eerie green light, and something shattered.

Hakon moaned. Whatever Talvinen had done, it felt glorious. Eyes fluttering shut, his whole body relaxed, surrendering to Talvinen. Warm tendons of seier caressed his body, coiling around his arms and legs, pulling his thighs apart and pinning him down to the altar with a soft but unyielding force. All the while, Talvinen still just loomed over him, his hands resting warm and comforting on Hakon’s shoulders.

Finally, Talvinen leaned down and kissed Hakon. None of their earlier kisses could compare to the passionate drag of teeth and tongue. Arching up into Talvinen’s touch, Hakon moaned into his mouth. He yelped in surprise as Talvinen’s hand closed around the handle of the staff and started to move . Instinctively, he wanted to pull away from the all-consuming sensation, but Talvinen’s seier , along with his body weight on Hakon, only allowed him to squirm helplessly. Hakon shouldn’t enjoy the feeling of helplessness, but he did.

“Relax, dróttning . Let me take care of you,” Talvinen whispered.

Willing his body to go pliant, Hakon trembled with pleasure. He whined breathlessly as Talvinen bent down to bite and lick at his nipples and trailed kisses down his chest and belly. Pressing his face next to Hakon’s straining cock, Talvinen seemed to inhale his scent.

“You smell so good.”

“Please—” Hakon moaned. He needed some relief, and Talvinen was just not letting him move.

“Fine.” Talvinen chuckled and finally took Hakon’s cock into his mouth. He took his time teasing the tip before swallowing him down to the root. It still amazed Hakon how far Talvinen was willing to go to bring him pleasure.

“I’m close,” Hakon managed, despite the ecstasy flowing through his body.

Talvinen needed to stop teasing and get his cock inside Hakon already if they wanted to complete the rite. But the madman only doubled his efforts.

“Talvinen!” Hakon cried, back arching up from the altar. A cresting wave of pleasure broke over him, but he did not come. The seconds of overwhelming delight dragged on as if time itself was slowing down, and then Hakon slumped down again, a desperate whimper caught in his throat.

“What was that?” he gasped.

Talvinen was still mouthing the hard length of his cock.

“Until my seier deems you ready, you aren’t allowed to come.”

Hakon shuddered.

“Then fuck me already, dammit, Talvinen!”

Grinning, Talvinen moved up his body again, kissing Hakon sweetly. “Are you okay though, dróttning ?”

“Yeah, just—” Hakon hissed when Talvinen’s cock brushed against his own. “Please.”

And, finally, Talvinen seemed willing to comply with Hakon’s wishes. Carefully, he pulled out the staff, already weaving another seier . Hakon could tell by the silent movement of Talvinen’s lips and the way his eyes shone as if illuminated by an inner fire. And just like that, he pushed inside Hakon. After all Talvinen’s talk about the need to take this slow, it was outrageous that Hakon’s body yielded to his husband’s whims so easily, not the slightest resistance left.

Dazed, Hakon heard himself moan, breathless little sounds of ‘ yes ’ and ‘ more ’ and ‘ please ’ while Talvinen moved inside him, steady as the waves rocking against the shore. If he was being honest with himself, he’d craved his husband’s cock ever since their wedding night. Now that it brushed against that white-hot spot deep inside him with every single movement, Hakon felt like he might go mad, trapped in an endless state of pleasure. The smell of waves and snow overwhelmed his senses, and somehow, he knew it was Talvinen’s seier . If Hakon had felt owned in the best possible way before, it was like Talvinen had released a storm now. The feeling of Talvinen inside him, his cock, his seier , filled Hakon’s entire being.

He could sense Talvinen’s completion drawing closer, his thrusts speeding up and the softest of smiles gracing Talvinen’s lips. When he came whispering Hakon’s name like a prayer, Hakon fell over the edge right with him, nearly blacking out from the force of all-consuming pleasure engulfing him.

The feeling of Talvinen lying heavy on top of him and peppering kisses all over his face was the first thing Hakon registered when he came to.

“What are you doing?” he mumbled.

“Kissing my beautiful husband.”

Hakon chuckled. He felt marvelous, satisfied, and safe in Talvinen’s arms. Talvinen still hadn’t slipped out of him, and even in this state, he filled Hakon up pretty well. So this was to be the ultimate humiliation that so many warriors feared? Another man taking his pleasure between Hakon’s legs. Talvinen’s cock in his ass. Hakon didn’t feel weakened, though. Quite the opposite. He was satisfied and felt wonderfully connected to his amazing husband. Could the Vanir be right after all and his father’s misgivings be nothing but misplaced prudery?

“It feels good,” Hakon mumbled. But suddenly he remembered what Talvinen had said about the bear spirit and having to fight it like Hakon once did. “What about you? Are you all right?”

But Talvinen only smiled at him. “Better than ever. Do you know your bear is quite fond of you?”

“Have you defeated it?”

“Let’s say he didn’t put up much of a fight. He gave me a speech about not hurting your feelings, though. As I said, he has taken a liking to you.”

“Really?” Hakon couldn’t imagine. But Talvinen sounded serious. “So did it work? The blessing I mean?”

“Oh, Hakon,” Talvinen laughed and kissed his nose. “Look!”

Lifting his head with difficulty, his teasing retort caught in his throat. At first, the surrounding landscape seemed shadowy and still, but then Hakon sensed a pulsing movement emanating from the altar. Something was shifting beneath the earth; it was as if the mighty roots of Yggdrasil itself were moving beneath them. Threads of green seier emerged, meandered across the shore, and vanished again, and further away in the forests and fields, golden lights began to bloom and sparkle.

“Norns,” Hakon breathed. “Did you do all of that?”

“ We did, dróttning . You did so well.”

Hakon felt heat creeping across his face, although after what they just did, he shouldn’t be embarrassed by a few words of praise.

“But what about you? Are you really okay?” Talvinen asked after a short moment of silence. And he looked so genuinely concerned after shagging Hakon senseless just a few minutes ago that he couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“I’m good. More than good, einar minn . But I wouldn’t mind retreating to somewhere more private now.”

An interested glint awakened in Talvinen’s eyes. “That can be arranged, I suppose. I’m sure Uncle has a tent for us. The night is still young, after all.”