Page 32 of Wolf of the Nordic Seas (Valiant Vikings #2)
Irresistible Lure
The iridescent rock of the cliff curved around the secluded beach on three sides, sheltering a small cove of the Elandrian Sea. The turquoise water was calm, with gentle windswept waves lapping at the soft white sand. Overhead, in the pale blue sky, the afternoon sun was warm on Elfi’s face as she led Njord to the water’s enticing edge.
“You have yet to see me as a mermaid.” With a seductive smile, she removed her boots, sheathed dagger, blue linen gown and chemise, folding the garments and laying them upon the sand. She unfastened Rán’s necklace and the trollkors talisman, laying them both in the folds of her dress. As she stood gloriously nude before Njord, his tongue lolled from his mouth, ogling her like a famished wolf. “I want to show you now.”
She waded into the water and called forth her sjóv?ttir magic. Power thrummed in her veins, washing over her like an immersive wave. Her light brown hair, gilded with blonde, was now a deep jade, streaked with seafoam green. In the luminous realm of the Ljósálfar, Elfi’s pale skin shimmered with a pearlescent glow.
“Your scales are the colors of the Persian necklace… And your hair is blue green like your eyes…” Hand raised, as it he wanted to touch her, Njord approached Elfi, but she dove into the water and swam to the middle of the cove. “Come join me.” She splashed him.
A wolfish grin stretched across his handsome, bearded face as he removed his wolfskin cloak and laid it on the sand. He unstrapped his sword and dagger, which he placed atop the white fur. Quickly shedding his leather boots, beige tunic, and black breeches, he stood proudly naked, allowing Elfi to admire his magnificently muscled, tattooed body.
Long brown hair tumbled over his brawny shoulders. Dark blue beads, braided into his neat beard, sparkled like the sunlit sea. Smattered cross his sculpted chest, dark hair trailed down his taut belly, where his aroused body stood at full attention just for her. Obviously pleased by her appreciative stare, he lingered on the beach, gloating at the effect he had on her.
In a flash, he dove in, swimming underwater, long arms propelling him forward until his hands caressed her smooth, sleek mermaid scales. He surfaced beside her, pushing hair away from his face, playfully blowing a stream of water over her bare, exposed breasts.
Her nipples hardened at the exquisite touch.
Treading water at her side, Njord’s lips followed the trickle from the teasing spurt. Lust and longing glimmered in his ravenous gaze. “Sailors describe the irresistible lure of sirens… so enticing, so tempting, they wreck their ships upon the rocks.” His warm lips latched upon her left nipple.
The blissful sensation of the rhythmic tug made Elfi moan.
“You are incredibly beautiful as a mermaid,” he murmured into the shell of her ear. “But I prefer you as a human, with long legs to wrap around my waist.” He nuzzled her neck, pressing his hardened body against her mermaid tail.
“Me, too.” Elfi shifted, encircling Njord with her regained human limbs.
He groaned as if in pain, grasping her hips with urgent hands. “Let’s go up on the beach. The water’s too deep here. I can’t touch the bottom.” He suckled her throat. “I need leverage to impale you.”
Elfi melted onto his shoulder, desire throbbing between her thighs.
She lifted her head and scanned the private beach sheltered by high stone cliffs which surrounded the cove. “I see the perfect spot.” Elfi pointed to a recessed area of soft white sand nestled behind the crystalline rock jutting out on one side.
Njord grinned. “After you, elska minn .”
Elfi swam to shore and emerged from the Elandrian Sea, wringing water from her long, light brown hair. Her salty skin tingled in the sun.
Njord shook the salt water from his hair and body, fetched his wolfskin cloak, and spread it upon the sand inside the curved arm of the rocky cliff. “I almost left this in the cottage, since it’s so warm. But now I’m glad I didn’t.”
He laid her down on the wolfskin cloak, like he had done many times in the waterfall cave. With relentless rhythm, he lapped and stroked her tender flesh, lavishing her body with luscious lips, skilled fingers, and his wonderfully wicked tongue. As taught as a bowstring, her body tensed with increasing, nearly unbearable pleasure. Until she snapped, like an arrow released, as waves of climax washed over her.
Njord raised his head from between her thighs, licking his mustache and fingers. “Mmm, he hummed, “I love your taste.” His hair fell forward as he centered himself between her legs, nudging her thighs apart with strong knees. His calloused hands slid under her bottom, lifting her hips and positioning his hardened shaft at the entrance to her quivering body. He hovered over her, his deep blue gaze alluring as the Elandrian Sea. “And I love you . My siren with the sea goddess eyes.” He plunged into her, rocking with the rhythm of the waves which lapped at the sandy shore.
She wrapped her legs around his thrusting hips, her arms around his tense back, drawing him in deeper, locking him inside her with long, loving limbs. As his momentum increased, his pounding intensified, pulling Elfi into a curling, cresting wave. When Njord arrowed into her, convulsing in pleasure, she shattered beneath him, her body clenching and contracting around his as he filled her with his seed.
He kissed her softly, lovelight shining in his dark blue eyes. “Paradise,” he whispered. “To be inside your luscious body, here in álfheim … on the shore of the Elandrian Sea.” Njord laid down at her side, pulling her into his arms.
Sublimely content, Elfi watched white birds soar amongst the clouds, filling her lungs with the clean, saline scent of the sea. “I am truly grateful that you are unlike my father.” With tender fingers, she caressed the dark hair on his chest. “You trained me with weapons, respect me as a warrior, and will honor my wish to fight at your side in ísland.” Rising up onto one elbow, she kissed his irresistible lips. “I shall always love you, my Wolf of the Nordic Seas .”
He rocked her in his sinewy, tattooed arms. “I am glad to have seen you as a mermaid. And you met me in wolf form once—in the waterfall cave.” His lips brushed the top of her head, snuggled against his chest. “Now that we have shared our shapeshifting selves, we are truly bound, body and soul.”
They lay together, limbs entwined, savoring a few blissful moments before Njord suggested they return to the cottage. “Let’s see if úlf has awakened. And what surprise Lugh has planned for him.” He stood, extending a hand to help Elfi to her feet.
While she donned her gown and boots, strapped úlfblad around her waist, and secured her necklace and talisman, Njord quickly dressed and shook the sand from the wolfskin cloak. Hand in hand, they crossed the beach and climbed the sandy embankment, back to the crystal cottage at the top of the cliff.
Inside the Ljósálfar abode, a delicious aroma filled the air. Ylva and Luna had obviously harvested fresh vegetables from the garden, for they were preparing golden carrots, frosted beans, and dark green kale streaked with silver. At the sight of Elfi and Njord, Luna took in their wet, sandy hair and grinned. “Looks like you swam in the sea.. If you like, you can rinse off in the lake.”
Elfi inhaled the appetizing scent and hummed. “Something smells wonderful. What are you cooking?” She glanced at the flaky pie centered on a metal rack over the blazing hearth.
“ Une tarte aux mirabelles,” Ylva replied, referring to the wild plum tarts popular in the Pays de Caux . Her bright blue eyes widened with delight. “But made with the golden plums of álfheim .”
A ripple of laughter flowed from Elfi. “Is all the fruit here golden?” She remembered the apples, cherries, and pears they’d eaten earlier. And the glorious, honey-colored wine.
Luna brushed a lock of pale blonde hair from her bemused, luminous face. “Most, but not all. Snowberries and moondrops are white. And frosted starfruit is icy silver.”
“Frosted starfruit? That sounds incredible. I’d love to try some!” She glanced at Njord, who chuckled and nodded in agreement.
“It’s very rare. Only the trees near Lyrian Lake produce it. The silver flowers bloom in the spring, and the fruit ripens in winter.” Luna smiled softly. “When is your babe due?”
Elfi rested a hand over her lower belly. “Not until spring.”
“Then you and Njord must come visit this winter. We can celebrate Jól here in álfheim .” Luna placed a large bowl of silvery kale on the table and beamed at Elfi. “We’ll have a feast fit for the gods—with frosted starfruit for a sweet dessert. It has a light, minty flavor—with a hint of rich, icy cream. Perfect for the winter solstice.”
“That’s a wonderful idea.” Njord hugged Elfi and kissed the top of her head. “Let’s go rinse off in the lake.” He ducked his chin to Ylva and Luna. “We’ll be back soon.”
The small lake behind the cottage was surrounded by tall trees with deep green, dense foliage. Its calm surface glimmered in the late afternoon sun. Elfi shed her clothing, waded into the cold water, and dove into the dark depths. When she surfaced, she realized Njord had done the same. She felt his hands caress her legs as he emerged beside her.
“My skin feels smooth and sleek. This water has healing power, like the ísilwenn Spring.” Elfi dipped her head backwards into the lake, rinsing the sea salt from her long hair.
Njord pulled her against him, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He nuzzled her neck. “Odin’s eye, I want you again. But we need to go back inside and see if úlf is awake.” A lusty glint sparkled in his deep blue eyes. “Tonight, elska minn . I will worship your sea goddess body.”
A wave of desire surged up Elfi’s spine. She kissed his full, bearded lips. “I cannot wait.” Withdrawing her legs from his hips, she swam back to the grassy bank of the lake. She arose from the crystalline water and squeezed the excess from her hair before donning her clothes and leather boots. Strapping the dragonscale sheath with her white wolf dagger around her hips, she fastened the necklace and trollkors talisman behind her neck.
Njord shook the water from his hair and body like a shaggy wolf, then dressed and belted his sword. He grinned when he realized she was watching. “Like what you see?” he smirked, clearly pleased at her ardent attention.
“Mmm,” she purred, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. “You look good enough to eat.”
“Tonight, elska minn . Tonight.” His husky voice was a warm whisper in her ear.
When they returned to the cottage, úlf had not awakened, but Lugh had returned. He was sitting at the table, drinking from a silver goblet, while Ylva and Luna peeled and sliced vegetables nearby. Lugh’s smile was as radiant as the sunlight streaming through the glass window overlooking the sea.
“Ah, I’m glad you are back!” he boomed, rising from his seat to shake Njord’s hand. “Jarl Rikard mentioned that you fostered with a fisherman as a lad in Norway. Want to join me on my boat—and catch tonight’s evening meal?”
A wide grin stretched across Njord’s elated face. “Indeed I would.” He kissed Elfi’s cheek. “See you soon.” Inclining his head to Ylva and Luna, he dashed out the door behind Lugh.
****
Njord followed Lugh down to the beach where a magnificent boat was nestled on the sandy shore. Crafted from the same frosted ash as the carved doors and furniture inside the cottage, its elongated hull and curved bow gave the vessel the image of a graceful swan. Gleaming stone and glittering crystals lined the edges of the ship, whose two sails were made of a pale blue, silvery silk. Etched into the fluid lines of the sleek hull, climbing vines wove amongst Elven scrolls and Nordic runes. At the prow, an elegant swan was carved into the frosted wood, its wings unfurling along the sides of the ship. Gilded by the setting sun, the luminous vessel glowed with golden Ljósálfar light.
“ Sjósvan. A swan gliding over the sea.” Lugh indicated the clear crystals and glowing gems which embellished the border of the ship. “These stones are enchanted, to navigate by the sun and the stars.” He motioned for Njord to give him a hand. Together, they pushed the Ljósálfar vessel into the salty water of the sheltered inlet, hopped aboard, and unfurled the ice blue sails.
Spirit soaring like the Sjósvan ship, the Wolf of the Nordic Seas heeded the ocean’s call.
As the ship left the small inlet and sailed out onto the open sea. the salty wind blew Njord’s long hair, the sea spray tingling his braided beard. Under the pale blue sky, the brilliant turquoise of the Elandrian Sea glimmered in the golden sun.
His úlfhéenar senses kicked in. He could hear fish swimming under the surface in the wake of the ship. “There’s a group over here.” Njord indicated an area on the starboard side of the vessel.
Lugh grasped a net, woven in a shimmery, silken material that emitted a translucent glow. He cast it over the side of the ship, and Njord helped him haul it back onto the deck, teeming with flopping fish.
“A few glimmerfish,” Lugh observed, indicating the small fish with iridescent scales. “A dozen silver salmon. And Luna’s favorite—frostfin snapper.” Njord eyed the blue fish with scales of shimmery violet and shiny silver fins.
Lugh selected a few tiny fish trapped in the net and tossed them back into the sea. “Too small to keep. And we have plenty here for tonight’s meal.” He retrieved a cutting board and large basket secured by hooks on the side of the ship, setting them on the deck. “We’ll gut them here, toss the scraps overboard, and place the cleaned fish in this basket. That way, when we return to the cottage, they’re ready to grill.” Lugh withdrew a sheathed fishing knife from a wooden toolbox and handed it to Njord. “Use this. The blade is sharp and thin.”
As they scraped the scales and split the fish down the belly, Lugh and Njord tossed the entrails to white birds who swooped down to snatch them with slender beaks. “Wrap the cleaned fish in these,” Lugh said, indicating a stack of large leaves, “then store them in the basket.” He demonstrated by wrapping the frostfin snapper he had just cleaned inside the large leaf of a bracken fern, tucking it into the bottom of a large woven container.
Njord nodded, enveloping the silver salmon in a leafy frond, placing it in the basket beside Lugh’s. As they continued cleaning the fish, Njord mentioned the upcoming voyage. “Something has been troubling me… about the prophecy I must fulfill.” When Lugh raised a curious eyebrow, Njord elaborated. “My mother has been guarding the Dwarven sword I must reclaim in ísland. The one which belonged to my father Brokk.” He placed another cleaned fish onto the pile. “I know that I must slay the Dokkálfar Blacksmith of Dorestad . But when? Where? And how will I recognize him when I have never even seen him?” Njord tossed a frostfin snapper into the basket. “Will I battle him in ísland? Or must I sail to Dorestad, in the Frankish territory of Frisia? How am I to fulfill the prophecy when I don’t know how to find him?”
Lugh finished cleaning the last remaining silver salmon, wrapped it, and stacked it in the willow basket. His deep green eyes glimmered like the emeralds in Elfi’s enchanted necklace. “I have invited a guest to join us for náttmál tonight. A Ljósálfar named Ildris. He’ll be sailing with us to ísland. When he comes to the cottage this evening, he will answer all of your questions.”
They cleaned off the deck with buckets of sea water and returned to the inlet at the base of the cliff. Njord helped Lugh push the boat up onto the shore, rinsing the ship and riggings with fresh water stored in a large wooden barrel. Lugging the basket of fish between them, they climbed the sandy embankment to the grassy ledge at the top of the cliff and entered the crystal cottage.
Luna, Ylva, and Elfi were setting the table in preparation for náttmál . Njord spotted several platters of roasted vegetables, the appetizing scent of rosemary, garlic, and thyme mingling with the delicious aroma of fresh bread and fruit pie.
“The grill is ready for the fish,” Luna said to Lugh as she placed silver goblets, plates, and spoons on the table. “I checked on úlf a little while ago, and he was still asleep. Perhaps the aroma of food will awaken him.”
Lugh placed the fish on a metal grid suspended over the open flames in the stone hearth. “I’ve invited Ildris to join us. He should be arriving soon.”
Ylva spun her head toward Lugh. “Ildris? I haven’t seen him in years! It will be wonderful to talk to him again.”
Elfi placed an elaborately carved silver pitcher in the center of the table. “Who is Ildris?” Her lips curled up in an expectant smile as she glanced at Ylva.
“He is one of the Ljósálfar who sailed with Sk?rde to Heieabyr years ago, when Sweyn—who was just a boy at the time—was abducted by the Franks. They warned King Harald of a betrayal by his highest ranking warlord, Anvarr Hrafnsson. Known as the Raven Warrior.” Ylva seemed about to say more, but a knock at the door interrupted her.
As Lugh carefully turned the fish over on the grill, Luna opened the door to greet their guest.
A tall Ljósálfar with long, straight hair the color of spun copper and eyes that glowed like golden amber stood in the doorway, a radiant smile across his clean shaven face. He handed Luna a bundle of fragrant white flowers, which she accepted with obvious joy.
“They are beautiful,” she exclaimed, kissing his cheek and welcoming him into the room. “I’ll put them in water. Please, come in and meet our guests.” As she arranged the flowers in a crystal vase and centered it on the table, Ylva rushed forward to greet Ildris.
She kissed him on the cheek, as if he were an old friend. “I am delighted to see you again. It’s been so long.”
His resonant laughter was mellow and warm as a harp. He bowed at the waist, bending his bronze head to gallantly kiss her hand. “ Enchanté, Madame la Comtesse .”
Ylva laughed with Ildris as Luna introduced Elfi and Njord. “I’d like you to meet Elfi Thorfinnsdóttir, the Heiress of étretat.”
Ildris politely kissed Elfi’s hand with elegant finesse. “Pleased to meet you, Lady Elfi.”
“And her betrothed, Njord ívarrsson, the Danish Jarl of Ribe.” Luna smiled as Ildris offered his long, luminous hand to shake Njord’s. “The úlfhéenar warrior known as the Wolf of the Nordic Seas .”
Lugh transferred the cooked fish from the hearth onto two large silver platters and carried them to the table. “The fish is ready. Shall we eat?”
A tall blond brute appeared in the hallway, stretching his brawny arms overhead. “A hearty ‘Já’ for me. I’m famished.”
“Ah! Hunger awakens the savage wolf.” Lugh grinned at úlf and introduced him to Ildris.
The ginger haired Ljósálfar shook the mammoth hand, and Ylva settled her guests in the green tufted chairs around the frosted ash table. She poured everyone a goblet of golden wine, then passed the platters of vegetables while Lugh served the fish.
“Glimmerfish, silver salmon, and frostfin snapper,” he declared proudly as he displayed the grilled fresh catch. “The plentiful bounty of the Sea God Njord, for whom you are named,” he grinned at Njord. “And the glorious Sun Goddess Sól.”
Elfi tasted the pale blue fish tinged with iridescent violet. “Mmm, this is wonderful!”
“My favorite. Frostfin snapper.” Luna popped a bite in her mouth and closed her eyes in delight. Her emerald eyes sparkled at Elfi. “It will enhance your sjóv?ttir magic with the vitality of the Elandrian Sea.” She smiled as she sipped from her silver goblet. “All of the food and water in álfheim will rejuvenate and replenish your power. ”
As Njord sampled the savory golden carrots, silver streaked kale, and snowblossom squash, he wondered how to ask Ildris about the upcoming voyage. As if he’d read Njord’s mind, the Ljósálfar addressed him first.
“I shall accompany you to ísland,” he announced.
Ylva spun toward him, clearly startled and apparently upset.
He raised an elegant hand, as if to silence her protest, and continued speaking to Njord. “Lugh informs me that you must fulfill a prophecy. To reclaim your father’s Dwarven sword and slay the Dokkálfar Blacksmith of Dorestad .” He took a sip of wine from his silver goblet, wiping his mouth with the back of a pale hand. Golden eyes aglow with otherworldly light, Ildris fixed Njord with a mesmerizing stare as he leaned back in his chair. Unfastening a black leather pouch from the belt at his waist, he withdrew a ring and handed it to Njord.
The gnarled, twisted band of blackened metal was inscribed with sinister runes which glistened in the incandescent twilight and formed the sharp claws of a gruesome beast. Clutched within the curved talons, an eerie blue sapphire stone glowed like an otherworldly eye. As he held it in his palm, the hackles on the back of Njord’s neck bristled instinctively, an innate response to the recognition of Dark Elven magic.
“The Dokkálfar Death Claw,” Ildris announced. “It belonged to Nithrak, the Dark Elf who crafted it. Brother of Gúldrun. The Dokkálfar Blacksmith of Dorestad .”
Njord’s breath hitched, his pulse pounding in his ears.
“I turned Nithrak to stone with my gildir brooch. He was wearing the ring, which I obtained when it dropped to the ground. I nullified its Dokkálfar magic, but as your úlfhéenar senses can attest, it still retains traces of Nithrak’s power. As I retain traces of his petrification. Gúldur has been tracking me ever since. He will not rest until Nithrak’s death is avenged when he kills me. But to do so, he needs a Dwarven blade.” Ildris accepted the ring back from Njord.
úlf visibly shuddered at the sight of the Death Claw as Ildris tucked the ominous ring back into the pouch at his waist. “If the Ljósálfar can be killed with Dokkálfar weapons, why must Gúldur use a Dwarven sword to slay you?”
“Because Ildris is the Ljósálfar Lord of Starlight. He imbues our gildir starstones with the power to petrify—or purify. A magical gift from Gilira, the Light Elven Goddess of the Stars.” Luna flashed Ildris a dazzling smile.
Ildris inclined his head to his radiant hostess, then directed his attention back to Njord. “You wondered when, where, and how to slay Gúldur.” His golden eyes glimmered like starlight. “I will be the irresistible lure that will lead him to ísland. Where you will fulfill the prophecy. By slaying the Dokkálfar Blacksmith of Dorestad .”
As adrenaline rushed through Njord’s veins, Lugh rose from the table. “Speaking of magical gifts and the upcoming voyage to ísland, I have something for úlf.” Tossing his silvery blond hair over a broad shoulder, he unstrapped a leather scabbard from his waist and handed it to an astonished úlf. “A dragonscale sheath, similar to my own—and Elfi’s,” he said, grinning at her. “But crafted from the scales of a frost dragon. From the ice-capped peaks of V?gakallen, the highest mountain in the Lofoten Islands of Norway.”
Njord examined the shimmery leather sheath clasped in úf’s appreciative hands. The jagged scales were like sharp peaks of ice, in shades of silver and frosted grey. In stark contrast with the icy hue, some of the larger scales were a deep sapphire, speckled with glittering flecks, like a starlit winter night sky.
Lugh gestured to the trio of stones embedded in the leather scabbard, glistening and pulsing with power. “Moonstone, starstone, and sapphire. All imbued with pure Ljósálfar light.”
úlf unsheathed the dagger, disbelief appearing on his shocked, bearded face. “This is áki’s Dokkálfar dagger! The one that nearly killed me.” He ran a calloused finger over the sleek Elven scrolls on the silver where sinister shadows had once been etched into the blade. In the intricate pommel, a gildir gem glittered like a captured star .
“I replaced the black snakeskin in the sheath with frosted dragonscale leather. Exchanged the trio of dark gems in the scabbard. I layered Ljósálfar steel over the Dark Elven metal of the dagger. And exchanged the black obsidian gem with a gildir starstone.” Pride illuminated his exultant face. “Now you—like Bodo and Njáll—have a Light Elven weapon to battle the Dókkálfar in ísland. Forming a trio of Ljósálfar daggers.” He grinned at Luna, Ylva, and Elfi. “Like the trinity of Ljósálfar healers.”
Luna refilled everyone’s goblet with glorious golden wine. She lifted her chalice to propose a toast. “To the generous gods and their magical gifts May they grant us victory in ísland. Skál!”