Chapter 6
Elina
The atmosphere is electric and vibrant when I enter the club on Friday night.
I look toward the couches at the back, expecting them to be empty—there’s none of that ceremonial atmosphere that seemed to surround Ulf.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I see I’m right and scan the room to ascertain he’s nowhere to be found.
After doing a lot of thinking this week, I’ve realized that he’s probably the one I need to guard myself from the most. My reactions to him seemed visceral and uncontrollable, and he’s the one who has been haunting my waking thoughts as well as my dreams all week.
But I’m also more disappointed he’s not here than I care to admit—something that only proves the need to keep my distance.
Not that I stood a chance anyway. He’s the best Dom here.
The chieftain. He must have tons of women, all more experienced, orbiting around him, hoping and waiting.
Which is just another reason not to get attached.
My gaze drifts to Asbjorn, who is rounding the bar and approaching me. The sight of his easy smile dampens my tense overthinking and puts a smile on my lips.
“Hi,” I say softly, just before he engulfs me in a big bear hug.
“I’m glad you came,” he says as he breaks off the hug and takes my upper arms in a firm grip. We’ve been texting a few times over the week, and he told me I should come to the club on Friday night. We’ve even discussed doing another scene.
“Me too.” I tuck my hair behind my ear, feeling unusually shy as I remember what he did to me last week—and think of what he might do tonight.
“Come join us at the bar.” He gestures to a stool beside Lea, who’s talking to a couple—a man with a masculine braid and a thick beard, who holds a woman in an openly possessive grip on the back of her neck.
“Hi,” I say a bit tentatively as I take a seat, but there’s no awkwardness. Lea leans in and gives me a tight hug, and the other two introduce themselves as Toke and Evelina—proudly maintaining the display of power exchange.
“New here?” Toke asks with a glimmer of amusement when I linger on his possessive grip and the collar around Evelina’s neck.
“Sorry, I’m just not used to such open dominance.”
Evelina smiles. “Don’t worry. In a month or two, it will feel more normal than seeing a couple holding hands.”
“You’ll feel right at home here,” Asbjorn says, now behind the bar. He strokes the back of a finger over my hand, and a flurry of anticipation rushes across my skin. I have a feeling he might be right.
We fall into easy conversation, all five of us.
Toke and Evelina answer all my curious questions about their twenty-four-seven Dom/sub dynamic, and Lea gushes about her dreams of having such a relationship.
The laughter flows freely, and the conversation runs smoothly while the rest of the club buzzes with a similar energy.
But suddenly, the atmosphere changes. The chatter around us dies down, and when Lea glances toward the entrance, she abruptly cuts herself off mid-sentence. Silence falls over the room. Only the evocative music remains.
I turn my head to look the same way as Lea, and my whole system goes into a state of high alert when I see what caught her attention.
Ulf.
He enters the room like he owns it, walking tall and proud, yet eerily calm. He doesn’t say a word. He simply moves past the people who part to make way for him. The women and most men drop their heads in a sign of respect—or maybe deference—while only a few men acknowledge him directly with a nod.
I watch him, stunned and mesmerized, turning my head to follow as he goes.
But when his eyes fall on me, I immediately drop my gaze.
It’s not a conscious choice to follow the unspoken rule; it’s an instinctive reaction.
My pulse hammers as I feel his eyes raking over me, reading every flustered flicker of emotion that I can barely name myself.
Uncertainty, shyness, fascination, and maybe even attraction.
I glance up to find him still watching me, and my breath catches.
Yes, definitely attraction. And I know he sees it.
The small glimmer in his otherwise sharp stare reveals it.
I’m not sure what happens, but suddenly, bowing my head isn’t enough.
I want to drop to the floor. I don’t belong at the same level as him.
I don’t want to be on his level. I want to kneel at his feet and feel the full weight of his authority while he bestows his blessing on me—a soft kiss of his lips against my forehead. Or more.
Not daring to lift my head too soon, I wait until Lea nudges me. “You can look again.”
Nervously, I glance around the room. And fall straight into the trap of Ulf’s unrelenting stare.
He’s on the same couch as last Friday, relaxed yet towering like a king.
He’s studying me—intently—and with each passing second, I feel a new piece of my shields chip away.
When he finally releases my gaze, I’m confused and nervous—feeling out of place.
At that moment, I just know there’d be no way to protect my heart if he wanted to claim it.
“Are you okay?” Lea asks, a slight frown on her brow.
“Um, yeah.” I lick my lips and force my hectic breath to slow down. “What just happened?” I glance from person to person, hoping just one of the people in our little group will grant me an answer. They all look to Asbjorn, and I get the feeling that he’s above them all. But no one’s above Ulf.
Asbjorn leans over the bar and touches the back of his hand to my arm—a silent gesture of comfort that I appreciate very much. “Most people here are part of a special community. Or clan, if you will. Ulf is our chieftain.”
“Clan?” Shaking my head, I push air against my lips. “Are you some kind of… cult?”
Asbjorn replies in all seriousness. “Nothing illegal going on here. But we do have certain beliefs. Rules and rituals.”
I gulp and wet my lips again. This is getting eerie. “What kind of beliefs and rules?”
Asbjorn senses my discomfort. “Don’t worry, sweet Freja. Nothing dangerous. All consensual.”
I look at the inked Thor on his arm. “Are you pagans? Or something like that?” I’ve been reading the books about paganism and learned that it’s a huge umbrella term, and although some directions are a bit too much for my taste, I was also surprisingly drawn to a lot of it.
“We don’t like to put a label on it.” He strokes his beard thoughtfully. “But you can say it’s a blend of old Nordic values and animism. It’s not a religion, but more like acknowledging and connecting with what’s around us. Nature. Instinct. Things older than us.”
I look around the club. Most men and women here have the same vibe. It doesn’t look like there are many people here who don’t belong to the… clan. God, this is weird. And a little fascinating.
“Is BDSM part of it too?”
“Well, not necessarily, though the majority of us are practitioners. But it’s not as much the play that’s important as the dynamics. We’re a bit traditional like that. We see the man as the protector who leads the way, while the woman grounds him with softness and emotional wisdom.”
I glance at Evelina, who is now under Toke’s arm, banding her own around him and stroking his side.
There’s no shyness or intimidation. She looks proud and strong—in a feminine way.
I don’t know why society always seems to label submission as oppressive and weak.
It’s not something I’ve thought much about, but I’ve always hated the way women have to take on certain conventionally masculine traits to be considered strong—wearing suits and becoming aggressive.
That’s not the only way to find your strength as a woman.
“That’s not to say it’s the right way,” Asbjorn continues.
“But it’s our way. The power structure is not about oppression or who is more worthy than the other; it’s about acknowledging the differences of the male and female spirit.
Sort of like Yin and Yang. Two opposites coming together to create perfect harmony.
That’s why we use raidho—the journey rune—for the members without a partner.
They’re still on the path to find that person who balances them. ”
I find my lips parting, gaping a little. “Wow, that’s really beautiful.”
Asbjorn smiles in return—warm and genuine. “Yeah, it is.”
Another question pops into my mind, and I blurt a bit too eagerly, “But why am I here? If everyone else is part of the… clan.”
This time, Toke is the one who answers as Asbjorn needs to go to take an order from another member.
“Not everyone is part of the clan. We have a few members who are just here for the BDSM. Most kinksters easily fall into our way of doing things here at the club, and if not, they find another club or simply play at home.”
“It’s not really that many rules, anyway,” Evelina chimes in.
“It’s mostly the thing about our chieftain—showing respect and not approaching him without invitation.
But some Doms can’t stand the idea of a leader.
” She looks up at Toke with admiration. “But the alpha males in our clan recognize the need for a leader—there’s strength in having one man worthy enough to lead the way and hold the community together. ”
I glance at Ulf, who has been joined by two other men and a couple. “How did Ulf become leader?”
“It all came naturally,” Toke explains. “People listen when he speaks. They follow him without even thinking about it.” He presses a kiss to Evelina’s head. “Speaking of. We should probably go say hi.”
“It was nice talking to you,” Evelina says. “I hope we’ll get to see you again.”
Asbjorn returns at that moment. “I’ll make sure of it.”
Toke and Evelina go to the couches at the back of the room and join what seems to be the inner circle.
When I look at Asbjorn, there’s a wicked glimmer in his eyes.
“Are you ready to play?”
I turn my head and take in the space. The room is full of people, some talking, some playing, some watching the scenes.
A couple is doing bondage at the suspension ring in the middle of the room, a woman is getting caned on the bondage table close to the St. Andrew’s cross, and one of the men in Ulf’s circle has pulled his sub over his knee, spanking her.
“At the cross,” he says, answering my unspoken question. “With clothes. Just floggers and wrist cuffs. The same thing as last time. The only difference is that there are more people in the room.”
Watching the room, I breathe deeply through pursed lips. Most people are preoccupied with either play or conversation. But it’s not the random people I’m concerned about. It’s Ulf. And the cross is right in his line of sight.
I remember the feeling of his watchful eyes when he showed up—the way he seemed to see everything, even when I had my guards up. How much did he see when Asbjorn flogged me? Shudders roll down my spine, but anticipation also hums low in my belly.
The same as last time, Asbjorn said. The person I’m most worried about has already seen it all. So I nod. “Okay.” I can do this.
Asbjorn gestures to a man across the room, who comes to take his place behind the bar.
Then Asbjorn takes my hands and leads the way toward the cross.
A prickling sensation makes me glance toward the couches and find Ulf following me with his gaze.
My breaths deepen and speed up, and my entire body awakens, becoming hyperaware.
Somehow, I just know he’s going to watch the whole scene.