to make it stand out. Wings, Odin’s mark, they can only mean one thing.
“A valkyrie, me?” My voice is soft and small, nothing like a legendary creature should sound.
Grím’s fingers lift from my stomach to cup my chin. His eyes are filled with light, and though I cringe to admit it, love.
“Were I chosen to be einherjar, I would want none other than ye to take me to Valhalla,” he says.
Bumps rise along my skin. I can hardly imagine it, me a Valkyrie. To be one of Odin’s chosen who bring warriors’ souls from the battlefield to the hallowed halls of Valhalla has always secretly been a dream of mine. What Norse girl doesn’t dream of it?
Compelled by a force more powerful than anything I’ve ever felt, I lean forward and press my lips to Grim’s. The kiss deepens. My arms wrap around him, holding him tight to me for so long we are breathless by the time we part. He leans his forehead against mine.
“But why would it appear now?” I ask.
Sitting back, Grím scratches his chin. “I think somehow us meetin’ attracted the attention of otherworldly things,” he says.
Though I can’t see why that would be, it does make sense. Reaching out, I trace a finger along the blue knotwork markings around one of Grím’s biceps.
“What about these? Did they just appear?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No. These are a tradition among me ma’s people when they go to war. I had them done to honor her and me quest to avenge her.”
My fingers continue along the woven lines. “They’re beautiful, and almost look otherworldly the way they seem to glow at times. I’ve never seen tattoos in blue like this,” I say.
A shiver runs through him. Suddenly I’m in his arms, his scorching lips are locked onto mine. All thoughts of markings and service to anyone flee in the wake of our passion.
The rising sun peeks above the ruins, painting them orange. Smoke rises from the crumbled structures in three places across the hillside. Ducked behind an arched opening, I do my best to remain hidden while scanning the area.
A pleasant force pulls at me from behind, compelling me to turn my head. I know it’s Grím before I even lay eyes on him. In only a pair of breeches, his sculpted chest is hard to look away from. The sight of him, eyes half-lidded, dark blond hair rumpled, nearly makes it worth ignoring the possibility of danger at our backs.
Laying his head on my shoulder, he embraces me from behind. His body stiffens, and not in the way I would like it to.
“We’re not the only ones who found refuge here,” he whispers, breath warm upon my ear.
“Others on their way to the contest, you think?” I ask.
It would be nice not to have to face another fight any time soon. I want all the energy I can save up for confronting Steinn. Having grown up around him, I know all too well his prowess in battle.
“Likely,” Grím says.
Another idea occurs to me. “He could be here,” I say.
For the briefest moment, Grím’s arms tighten around me. “Could be.”
Bumps rise along the skin of my arms. To potentially be so close to the man who killed my father sends a charge through me. “Then we have to check.”
“Aye, but we should try to sneak up on them, see if he’s among the parties first. If he isn’t, no reason to approach them,” Grím says.
I nod. “And if he is, we fight with a cool head.”
Turning, I cup his face in my hand. The rough stubble sends pleasant prickles down my arm and to my chest, hardening my nipples. Part of me doesn’t want to leave this room. After all this time, I can’t believe I’m hesitant. Yet looking into Grím’s sapphire eyes, it’s obvious why I am. The unthinkable has happened.
“I don’t want anything to happen to you, Grím,” I tell him.
His hands grip me and turn me toward him, then move to cup my face. “Nor I, ye. We’ll keep our wits about us,” he says.
Turning into his hand, I kiss his palm. He shivers and lets out a little moan that
“A valkyrie, me?” My voice is soft and small, nothing like a legendary creature should sound.
Grím’s fingers lift from my stomach to cup my chin. His eyes are filled with light, and though I cringe to admit it, love.
“Were I chosen to be einherjar, I would want none other than ye to take me to Valhalla,” he says.
Bumps rise along my skin. I can hardly imagine it, me a Valkyrie. To be one of Odin’s chosen who bring warriors’ souls from the battlefield to the hallowed halls of Valhalla has always secretly been a dream of mine. What Norse girl doesn’t dream of it?
Compelled by a force more powerful than anything I’ve ever felt, I lean forward and press my lips to Grim’s. The kiss deepens. My arms wrap around him, holding him tight to me for so long we are breathless by the time we part. He leans his forehead against mine.
“But why would it appear now?” I ask.
Sitting back, Grím scratches his chin. “I think somehow us meetin’ attracted the attention of otherworldly things,” he says.
Though I can’t see why that would be, it does make sense. Reaching out, I trace a finger along the blue knotwork markings around one of Grím’s biceps.
“What about these? Did they just appear?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No. These are a tradition among me ma’s people when they go to war. I had them done to honor her and me quest to avenge her.”
My fingers continue along the woven lines. “They’re beautiful, and almost look otherworldly the way they seem to glow at times. I’ve never seen tattoos in blue like this,” I say.
A shiver runs through him. Suddenly I’m in his arms, his scorching lips are locked onto mine. All thoughts of markings and service to anyone flee in the wake of our passion.
The rising sun peeks above the ruins, painting them orange. Smoke rises from the crumbled structures in three places across the hillside. Ducked behind an arched opening, I do my best to remain hidden while scanning the area.
A pleasant force pulls at me from behind, compelling me to turn my head. I know it’s Grím before I even lay eyes on him. In only a pair of breeches, his sculpted chest is hard to look away from. The sight of him, eyes half-lidded, dark blond hair rumpled, nearly makes it worth ignoring the possibility of danger at our backs.
Laying his head on my shoulder, he embraces me from behind. His body stiffens, and not in the way I would like it to.
“We’re not the only ones who found refuge here,” he whispers, breath warm upon my ear.
“Others on their way to the contest, you think?” I ask.
It would be nice not to have to face another fight any time soon. I want all the energy I can save up for confronting Steinn. Having grown up around him, I know all too well his prowess in battle.
“Likely,” Grím says.
Another idea occurs to me. “He could be here,” I say.
For the briefest moment, Grím’s arms tighten around me. “Could be.”
Bumps rise along the skin of my arms. To potentially be so close to the man who killed my father sends a charge through me. “Then we have to check.”
“Aye, but we should try to sneak up on them, see if he’s among the parties first. If he isn’t, no reason to approach them,” Grím says.
I nod. “And if he is, we fight with a cool head.”
Turning, I cup his face in my hand. The rough stubble sends pleasant prickles down my arm and to my chest, hardening my nipples. Part of me doesn’t want to leave this room. After all this time, I can’t believe I’m hesitant. Yet looking into Grím’s sapphire eyes, it’s obvious why I am. The unthinkable has happened.
“I don’t want anything to happen to you, Grím,” I tell him.
His hands grip me and turn me toward him, then move to cup my face. “Nor I, ye. We’ll keep our wits about us,” he says.
Turning into his hand, I kiss his palm. He shivers and lets out a little moan that
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