Vikings Unleashed: 9 modern Viking erotic romances Read online

  Contents

  Viking Fire by Crystal Jordan

  At the Viking’s Command by Anne Marsh

  Hel’s Belles by Dayna Hart

  The Viking Queen’s Men by Holley Trent

  Taming the Viking’s Dragon by Shawntelle Madison

  A Viking's Peace by Zoe York

  Viking's Heart by Loribelle Hunt

  Viking’s Fury by Saranna DeWylde

  Viking Unbound by Kate Pearce

  VIKINGS

  UNLEASHED

  HIDE YOUR VIRGINS

  9 modern erotic romances

  by

  Crystal Jordan, Anne Marsh, Dayna Hart, Holley Trent, Shawntelle Madison, Zoe York, Loribelle Hunt, Saranna DeWylde and Kate Pearce

  VIKING FIRE

  Twilight of the Gods, Book 1

  by

  Crystal Jordan

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  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  When I was first asked to join this Viking boxed set, I turned down the offer because I didn’t have any Viking ideas to write. Then I started poking around the internet and my local library to find out more about Norse mythology. The legend of Brynhild and Siegfried grabbed me immediately and just wouldn’t let go. They wanted a second chance at love, one that wasn’t poisoned by the greed of others. So, I hope I’ve done their reunion justice in Viking Fire.

  Of course, now that they’ve had their chance in the spotlight, ideas for the other berserkers have started nagging at me. Vikings are just so demanding! Expect more in 2015 from the Twilight of the Gods series, where these heroes save the world and fall in love along the way.

  ~Crystal

  GLOSSARY

  Andvaranaut: a magical ring that can turn objects into gold. Created by Andvari; the giant Loki tricked him into giving up the ring. In revenge, Andvari cursed the ring to bring destruction and misfortune upon anyone who wore it. This curse was not broken until the valkyrie Brynhild carried the ring into purifying magical fire, thus sacrificing her life.

  Asgard: the realm of the Viking gods, ruled by the god Odin and his wife, the goddess Freya.

  Berserker: a Viking warrior who is able to shape-shift into a wolf. Those who die heroically in battle are brought to Valhalla by valkyries. These warriors become immortals who serve Odin.

  Handmaiden: an immortal woman who serves a goddess, most often Freya. A handmaiden can shape-shift into a dove.

  Jötunheim: the realm of giants.

  Jötunn: the Viking word for a giant. Giants are enemies of the gods. Giants can often control the elements, but are not always humanoid in form (see Fenrir and Jörmungand).

  Midgard: the realm of humans, also called Earth.

  Niflheim: the realm of the dead, ruled by the giantess Hel.

  Ragnarök: translates to the “Twilight of the Gods.” An ancient apocalyptic prophecy from the völva, which predicts the death of many major Norse figures, including Odin, Thor, Tyr, Frey, and Loki. The forces of Jötunheim and Niflheim battle the gods of Asgard for control of all the realms, including Midgard.

  Valhalla: Odin’s hall, located in Asgard.

  Valkyrie: a woman warrior, or shieldmaiden, who is able to shape-shift into a raven. A valkyrie can decide the outcome of battles between warriors, and bring those who die heroically to reside forever in Valhalla. Valkyries are immortals who serve Freya.

  Völva: a prophetess and sorceress, also considered a witch.

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Humans

  Aslaug: deceased. Bryn and Erik’s daughter, Ivar’s mother.

  Brynhild “Bryn” Ravencrest: a valkyrie who angered Odin and was cursed to live a mortal life. As a human woman, she fell in love with Erik, but they were both tricked into marrying other people. This betrayal eventually led to her death and return to Valhalla as an immortal. In modern-day America, she is a horse trainer and owner of Ravencrest Farm.

  Erik Siegfried: a berserker and dragon-slayer, prophesied to fight alongside the gods during Ragnarök. When the battle is over, the gods are dead, and the world is consumed by water, he is supposed to be the only human man left and will repopulate the Earth.

  Holm Sutherland: a berserker, working with Erik to stop Ragnarök.

  Ivar Ragnarsson: also known as Ivar the Boneless, a berserker, born with a mild case of osteogenesis imperfecta so he must use a wheelchair in human form, grandson of Bryn and Erik.

  Grimhild: deceased. A völva who used her magical abilities to create a potion to make Erik forget Bryn so he’d marry Gudrun. Created a similar potion to make Bryn believe Erik was Gunnar so she would marry him instead.

  Gudrun: deceased. Sister of Gunnar, daughter of Grimhild. Erik’s wife, gave him a potion to make him forget his love for Bryn so he would marry her.

  Gunnar: deceased. Bryn’s husband, brother of Gudrun, son of Grimhild, tricked Bryn into marrying him and then conspired to murder Erik after he found out Erik slept with Bryn.

  Kata: a rogue valkyrie.

  Nauma: A völva and handmaiden for Freya.

  Valbjorn “Val” Makan: a berserker, working with Erik to stop Ragnarök. As a mortal, he fought with Ivar when they invaded England as part of the Great Heathen Army in 865 AD.

  Svanhild: deceased. Erik and Gudrun's daughter. Nauma has a prophecy that a mortal descendent of Svanhild will help stop Ragnarök.

  Gods and Giants

  Eir: a minor goddess, associated with healing.

  Fenrir: a giant wolf, son of Loki. The gods bound him using a magical rope, but he is prophesied to escape during Ragnarök to battle the gods.

  Freya: a goddess, associated with beauty, love, sexuality, and fertility. Married to Odin, twin sister of Frey.

  Frey: a god, associated with fertility, fair weather, and sunshine. Twin brother of Freya, married to the giantess Gerda.

  Gerda: a giantess, wife of the god Frey.

  Hel: a giantess, daughter of Loki, and ruler of Niflheim.

  Heimdall: a god, associated with prophecy, wisdom, and social class. Carries the horn Gjallarhorn, which he will blow when he sees signs of Ragnarök.

  Jörmungand: a giant dragon who sleeps at the center of the Earth, son of Loki.

  Loki: a giant, a trickster who insulted the gods. The gods bound him to a rock with a snake mounted over him, which drips venom onto his face. When he thrashes from the pain, it causes earthquakes. He is prophesied to escape during Ragnarök to battle the gods.

  Odin: a god, ruler of Asgard, king of the gods, married to Freya.

  Sif: a goddess, associated with earth. Married to Thor.

  Surtr: a giant, ruler of the giants who control fire. During Ragnarök, he will join forces with Hel, Fenrir, and Loki to awaken Jörmungand and battle the gods.

  Thor: a god, associated with thunder, lightning, and strength. Wields the war-hammer Mjölnir. Son of Odin, married to Sif.

  1

  Ravencrest Farm, Virginia

  “I need a shieldmaiden.”

  Bryn was bent over, digging out a rock wedged under one of her horse’s shoes. At the sound of that voice, deep and rich and so familiar, every muscle in her body froze. Pain and longing and a million other emotions she refused to feel twisted through her soul. Moving as slowly as a thousand-year-old woman—which was actually how old she was—she carefully set the mare’s hoof on the ground and straightened but didn’t turn around to face him. “Well, you’ll need to keep looking, then.”

  “Brynhild.”
<
br />   “Just Bryn, thanks. Go away, Siegfried.” The gods knew he’d never show up here unless it was to fuck up her life. No, thanks. She might once have been a shieldmaiden, a valkyrie. She might still be able to shift into a raven and soar into the clouds. She might be older than dirt. But all of that meant she had an even lower bullshit tolerance than she did back in the day when Siegfried was the love of her life. Also her betrayer, her tormenter, the man who cost her mortal life. The man she’d betrayed in turn, a blood-soaked vengeance she’d never been able to cleanse from her stained, battered soul.

  That was a long time ago, but some wounds never really healed, did they? She tried not to think about it. Ever.

  She stroked a hand down the horse’s silky neck. Unhooking the cross ties, she snapped a lead line on to the mare’s halter, and walked her to her stall.

  No sound gave away the fact that he’d followed her, but she was keenly aware of his presence, his nearness, his ability to throw her off-balance. Tingles skipped over her skin, and she tried to ignore the reaction.

  His voice came from directly behind her when she latched the stall. “I’ve used Siegfried as my surname since I came to America. A hundred years ago. Maybe more.”

  “Okay.” She infused as much disinterest into the word as she could manage.

  “Erik is what you can call me now.”

  “I prefer to call you gone.” She set off down the wide, concrete barn aisle. The sun would set in about half an hour, so she had to wrap up for the day. One more horse needed to be brought in. She whistled as she approached the paddock gate, and Rogue’s Gallery came galloping up. This paddock was designed specially to keep often unruly stallions in—the double fences were several feet higher than normal, for starters, with several other security features that discouraged her boys from trying to get out. Rogue slid to a stop just before he reached the inner fence, rearing up and whinnying.

  She snorted. “Settle down, show-off.”

  The stallion snorted back, shaking his head. The second she opened the gate, he shoved his nose against her shoulder, demanding petting. She scratched behind his ears, and he nickered in appreciation. “Ah, now. That’s my boy.”

  “He looks like my Grani,” Erik noted. “Same color, anyway. Gray as stone.”

  Yes, and she hated to admit that she might have a soft spot for Rogue for just that reason. “Grani was a warhorse who died a millennium ago. Rogue here is a thoroughbred. He had a great racing career, and now I keep him for stud.”

  She clipped on the lead rope and then had no choice but to face her unwelcome guest.

  Whoa. Her lips parted, surprise spurting through her. What a change. He was still enormously tall and built like a honed Viking warrior, a berserker who could conquer an army with one hand tied behind his back. It was his hair that caught her attention. Or rather, the lack thereof. He’d shaved his head, and the look was so different she blinked. She’d seen him once or twice over the last thousand plus years, never of her own will, but when Odin and Freya had summoned them at the same time, there was nothing Bryn could do about it.

  This was the most dramatic change he’d ever made to his appearance. He’d always worn his hair long, no matter what the current fashion of the time dictated. His silver eyes, framed by absurdly long lashes, somehow seemed even more dramatic, more intense. Before this moment, she wouldn’t have believed it possible.

  That gaze pinned her in place like a bug under a microscope, and it took effort not to squirm. She wasn’t used to that. Most men she met were like spoiled toddlers, and it had been years—maybe a decade—since one had interested her in doing anything other than yawn.

  A decade. Shit, she might be regrowing her hymen at this rate.

  And thinking about sex while staring at Erik was a mistake. She shook herself and glanced away. Somehow with the shaved head, it was easier to think of him as Erik instead of Siegfried. Though he was both now, wasn’t he? Erik Siegfried. The new name suited him.

  “Why are you still here?” She brushed passed him—careful not to make actual contact—and led Rogue to the smaller stallion barn.

  “Are you serious?” he asked, incredulousness dripping from the question. “You’ve seen the signs, Brynhil—Bryn. You have to know what they mean.”

  Hurricanes, earthquakes, winters that lasted far too long, summers that burned far too hot. Mortals thought it was climate change, but a valkyrie could sense the difference. Signs of the end times. The Vikings called it Ragnarök—the Twilight of the Gods—but it had been given many names by many cultures. Armageddon, eschaton, apocalypse, Satya Yuga, the appearance of Maitreya. It was all the same as far as she was concerned—a prophesized final chapter before a supposed golden era began.

  She shrugged as she finished putting Rogue away, and then she turned to Erik. “Ah, but you’re the dragon-slayer who’s supposed to kill the baddies who want to take over the world. I suggest you quit bothering me and get to it.”

  His smile was sharp and unamused. “Trust me, I’d like nothing more than to kill the baddies, preferably before they do the kind of damage that will land us in Ragnarök. Unfortunately, I need a shieldmaiden’s help.”

  “I’m not the only one left.” Though, it had been a century or two since she’d been in contact with any other valkyrie. Freya hadn’t summoned her in a long time, and Bryn was just fine with that. She had her farm, her horses, and a quiet existence she enjoyed. “Go pester someone else.”

  “Damn it, Bryn.” He scrubbed a hand over his head, looking as if he’d like nothing more than to throttle her. Interesting. He’d always been so obnoxiously calm and patient back in the day.

  It annoyed the shit out of her that she liked this less stoic side of him. She widened her eyes innocently. “What?”

  “I need your help.” He spread his hands in a gesture of helpless frustration, his brows snapping together.

  “No.” There. Simple, easy. An idiot should get that message through his thick skull.

  The growl he emitted was more wolf than man, reminding her that berserkers could shift forms as easily as valkyries. Again, that less civil side of him was…too alluring, too tempting, tugging at something deep within her. Something she’d rather crush under her boot.

  Executing a quick about-face, she headed across the stable yard to the tidy two-story Colonial she called home. He stayed hot on her heels, of course. The persistent bastard. “Why me, Erik?”

  He shoved his way through her back door, refusing to let her slam it in his face. Yeah, she could have gotten into a wrestling match with him, but they both had superhuman strength and it would have just resulted in the door being reduced to splinters. Plus, it wouldn’t keep him out. The only way to get him to leave was to convince him to go. Diplomacy had never been her strong suit, so this was going to be such fun.

  He snapped, “Why you? Because a völva came to talk to me.”

  “There’s a sentence that strikes fear into the most stalwart heart,” she drawled as she stomped over to the fridge and yanked it open. Despite the mockery in her tone, völva were no laughing matter. Prophetesses, witches, and power-hungry bitches all rolled into one nasty package. The few times Bryn had had to deal with them only made her loath to repeat the experience.

  “I’ve never sought the company of a völva, no. They’re not my favorite kind of women. But not listening to them is a stupid idea, so I listened, and here I am.” When she didn’t respond at all, he let out a breath. “You haven’t changed a bit. Stubborn as a mule. More beautiful than the sun and the moon. Damn it.”

  Glancing back, she saw him staring at her ass. The breath seized in her lungs. His eyes had burned to molten quicksilver, lust stamped clearly on the harsh angles of his face, and heated awareness flashed through her. There was no controlling her response to him, a lightning-strike of utter craving. Her nipples tightened, goose bumps shivered over her flesh, and her pussy fisted on emptiness. She straightened but couldn’t make herself confront that burning need, so she pull
ed open the freezer as if she had some interest in the contents. The wash of frigid air hit her overheated cheeks.

  “Did the völva specifically say I was the shieldmaiden you had to come to?” She’d kept up her weapons abilities, adding martial arts and firearms to her repertoire as they’d been introduced to Western culture. She was a valkyrie, which meant knowing how to fight was part and parcel of her existence. That didn’t mean she wanted anything to do with whatever he had in mind.

  A long beat of silence passed. “No, she didn’t specify.”

  “Alrighty, then.” She closed the freezer, turned around, and flipped her long braid over her shoulder. “It’s been great catching up. Bye, now.”

  “Sorry, sweetness. That’s not going to happen.” Shaking his head slowly, a smile kicked up one corner of his lips. He had a deep dimple in his right cheek. Gods, how had she forgotten that?

  Then what he’d said hit her. Sweetness? Where the hell had that nickname come from? She scowled. “You can save the world without me. I’m not interested.”

  Two strides took him across the kitchen, blocking her avenues of escape. She could always shift to her raven form and take flight, but she refused to run or cower. The refrigerator’s door handle bit into her back as she glared up at him.

  He bent forward until his lips almost brushed hers. Anticipation flowed like white-hot lava through her veins. His scent hit her, musky and masculine—no need for any kind of cologne. He smelled exactly the way she’d always thought a man should smell. Need throbbed within her, and her pussy was soaking wet in seconds, the muscles in her thighs trembling. His body heat surrounded her, seeping into her. He was all muscle and sinew and tempting hard angles. She licked her lips and clenched her fists at her sides to keep from reaching for him. Her mind warred with her body, and she wasn’t entirely sure which would win.