Chapter 68
Noren stomped behind Gerrie and Viggo, who were laughing about something idiotic in front of him.
He would’ve rather gone with Easta and Conalle to Svartalfheim, especially since Easta’s mate was useless and Conalle, though diplomatic, couldn’t protect her. Noren had spent the better part of two centuries as her personal guard—he bristled at being sent away, where he couldn’t protect her.
Frustrating that Westley was letting Solveig order him around like she owned his balls too.
No one owned his balls. His balls were his alone.
Solveig may have been more than they’d bargained for in the cave, and he begrudgingly respected the Hel out of her, but that didn’t mean he had to go above and beyond.
He’d go to Vanaheim with Gerrie and Viggo, but he wouldn’t stay long—just enough to do his duty and then get his ass to Svartalfheim to protect Easta and her family.
He’d sworn an oath to them. To her.
Plus, he was sure Viggo wouldn’t mind and would probably offer to come with him. Viggo was itching to get back to Conalle—poor bastard had a soft spot for the lord.
They made their way out of the Idavoll palace through the secret passageway Noren hadn’t known existed. He was pissed Westley had kept it from him.
Though he was irritated to leave Idavoll so soon, he was glad to be parted from the love fest that left his best friend a puddle on the floor. That would never happen to him. He’d be damned before he let some female have that much control over him—no matter how well she warmed his sheets.
Noren’s cold heart hardened as he stomped to the stables, finding three horses ready. North and Vali must have left them, and he appreciated that they didn’t have to wait longer than necessary.
They raced away from Idavoll, from the sounds of the throne room that would haunt him for years to come—the death of Queen Eir, North’s mate betraying her, and Solveig’s scream as she killed Maddock.
Viggo and Noren followed Gerrie through the snow-covered forest, travelling south.
They made good time, riding through the night, thankfully undetected. Noren wasn’t sure how, considering the forest surrounding the palace was crawling with Jotunheim guards. They seemed to have slipped right through their cracks.
Likely they were distracted with the other parties leaving—hopefully not Easta’s.
After three days of hard riding, they were in Vanaheim. He thought he recognized the way to the obliterated Southern Wilds camp, but he wouldn’t ask Gerrie for clarification. He was still angry about her leaving them tied up naked on the bed.
Noren took a breath of relief as he shed his wool coat. He grew up loving the Idavoll winters, but after a hundred and fifty years, he was glad to be rid of it for the time being.
“There’s a pub not too far from here,” Gerrie called, gesturing to the east.
“Is it safe?” Noren asked skeptically.
“I guess we’ll find out.” She didn’t seem fazed at all at the possibility as she led them through the thinning forest.
The pub was nestled in a tiny village a stone’s throw from the Southern Wilds. There couldn’t be more than six or seven crudely built buildings here, including the shabby looking pub. How he’d managed to miss it during his stay here, he’d never know.
He could practically see the glow of the chasm from where they tied their horses up. There was an unsettling stirring in his gut, though that could be due to the three days on horseback and empty stomach.
Or perhaps it was Gerrie’s insufferable company.
“It doesn’t look like much,” Noren grumbled.
Gerrie shot him a look of anger. He hated to admit, even to himself, that he was a little terrified of her.
“You listen here, Fae,” she said in a menacingly low voice, “there are good people in there who will feed, shelter, and hide us for the night. Be grateful.” She jabbed a finger into his chest. He waited until her back was turned to rub the spot, wincing. It hurt.
Viggo caught his eye, and Noren watched his friend try and fail to hide his laughter. He huffed, following Gerrie into the pub.
The interior was just as shabby as the exterior, but it was warm and dry. The rain had started falling about an hour ago and it was a relief to get out of the moisture. Gerrie nodded to the male behind the bar who pointed to a small empty table in the corner.
Gerrie shrugged off her cloak and slung it over the back of her chair, the two Fae males following suit.
Barely in their seats for a minute and they were already being served ale. Maybe the place wasn’t so bad after all. Noren took a quick swig. Gods damned, the Vanir knew how to make ale.
He had better watch how much he drank though. He was known to be a lightweight. Not that he’d admit it out loud, but bedding Gerrie was proof enough of what happened when he didn’t watch his liquor.
“So,” Viggo started, “what’s the plan?”
Gerrie jumped right to business, clearly not worried about being overheard. Noren observed the patrons of the small pub and noticed that the servers were young and pretty. He took another drink of his ale, his mood improving considerably.
He should get his cock into someone else so the last person on it wasn’t Gerrie. Shaking his head, he tried to pay attention to the witch.
“The Vanaheim castle is another two days’ hard ride from here,” Gerrie was saying.
“I’ll give you a two days’ hard ride,” Viggo said under his breath. Noren smirked at Viggo’s already half-empty mug of ale. He was a goner.
Gerrie smiled lazily, leaning forward. With the heat rolling off them, Noren thought they might fuck right here. But Viggo gasped in pain, dousing the mood. Noren looked under the table to see Gerrie gripping Viggo’s cock through his pants, squeezing hard.
“You listen here,” Gerrie said, as serious as Noren had ever heard, “we can fuck and screw around as much as you want later, but right now, we have to focus on this plan or the entire realm will fall, bringing yours and the others down with it. Is that what you want?”
“No, of course not!” Viggo said a little too loudly.
“Good,” she said, releasing him. “Now,” she continued like there hadn’t been an interruption, “given that we aren’t sure what the situation is, we’ll have to scope out the castle before we go in.
I’m not prepared to take Latham’s word at face value.
” She took a long pause, as if assessing their attention.
“The king and queen could very much have turned to Ragnvald’s side, or like he said, they could be locked in the dungeons. Obviously we’re hoping for the latter because that means there’s still hope for help in this war.”
“What happens if Ragnvald has already recruited them?” Viggo asked.
“We’ll have to kill the king and queen, and hope the heirs are not infected.”
“How will we know who’s infected?”
“We won’t. We’ll see if they try to kill us or not. If they do, that’s bad. But if they don’t, that’s good.” Her condescending tone was grating on Noren’s nerves.
“Sounds like a great plan,” he muttered.
“Do you have a better one?” Gerrie asked.
Noren put his empty mug on the table and wiped his mouth. Before Gerrie could stop him, he stood.
“Not yet, but maybe if I clear my head, I’ll be able to come up with one,” he said with a sly grin.
Gerrie narrowed her eyes. “And just where do you think you’re going?”
“Hopefully to find some better company than you,” he spat, turning on his heel.
Noren made a beeline for the bar, where the barmaid was currently filling up four mugs. She was focused on her task, but when Noren’s looming shadow blocked some of her light, she glanced up.
Her eyes went from annoyed to interested in half a second and Noren sighed with relief. He wasn’t looking for anything but someone willing to take his hard cock.
“Hello,” the barmaid said in a low, sultry voice.
“Hi.” The stool scraped across the floor as Noren took the seat in front of her.
“Can I help you?” she asked, her eyes flickering over his form.
Noren braced his elbows on the counter and leaned towards her. “That depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“On how much longer you have to work tonight,” he said, flashing her a dazzling smile.
She returned his smile and leaned in close to whisper in his ear, giving him directions to her rooms.
“And just one more thing,” she said. “I can’t have all the patrons thinking I’d be so easy.”
Noren was confused until the contents of one of the mugs flew at his face, ale splashing all over him. He scowled as she winked, the pub roaring with laughter. Fucking females and their games. That’s what he liked about working with Easta—she was straightforward. No guessing, no nonsense.
He took her cloth and wiped his face, standing to try to wring his clothes out.
Gerrie had her head thrown back in laughter and Viggo was buckled over the table, slamming his fist down on the wooden surface. Noren smirked to himself.
The barmaid had fire. Tonight would be fun.
He’d been right. An hour later he stood outside her door, knocking gently. She threw it open and grabbed a fistful of his shirt, dragging him inside. Not like it was hard—he wasn’t putting up a fight.
Once the door was shut, he slammed his mouth into hers, tasting ale and mint as their tongues clashed together.
She took control and began to strip his layers of clothing off.
He followed suit, and soon enough his fingers dug into her soft flesh, her ample curves a delicious feast for him as he tossed her onto the bed and kissed down her body.
Her full breasts were peaked. He took his time with them, eliciting soft moans and eventually foul ones as he brought his mouth lower, his hands finding purchase in the flesh at her hips.
He expertly flicked his tongue and drove her wild with need as he worked her clit.
Her slick centre coated his tongue and lips as he wrung pleasure out of her.
She came with a loud cry, trembling beneath his lips.
He was about to move back up her body when she wrapped her legs around him, keeping him there.
Laughing into her, he began again with his tongue, teasing around where she throbbed for him. She squeezed his head tighter with her legs, her hand gripping his scalp painfully.
Noren loved a greedy lover and made sure to stay there as long as she wanted him to—it was certainly no hardship. Her pussy clenched with her climax, again and again, ramping up every time he added his fingers, increasing her pleasure as he pumped them.
After the fourth time, she released him. He was sad to say he was sorry to go—she was beautifully responsive, and her quiet moans of pleasure made his cock harden almost painfully.
He slid up her body and positioned himself at her entrance, catching her eye—a silent question until she tilted her hips up, bringing her soft inside closer. He entered her, inch by inch, her eyes widening and then rolling back as he bottomed out.
She was tight and warm, and he gave her a moment to adjust before his brain went wild. His signal to start moving was the shift of her hips and the grip of her hands along his broad back.
His forehead dropped to the inside of her neck so he could kiss and bite her gently without breaking skin. His canines didn’t ache to taste her blood—they would only do that when he found his mate.
Until then, he enjoyed the barmaid’s company, savouring the feel of his cock buried deep in a willing female. His heart may be cold, but his cock was warm, and that was all he cared about.
Noren increased his pace, revelling in the feel of her until she signalled that she wanted to move. He flipped onto his back and brought her lush body on top of his, relishing the sight of her generous curves as she continued his fast pace on top of him.
His thrusts were merciless. He brought his hand to her clit and rubbed the spot he had just learned. She threw her head back as he worked her, her hands bracing on his stomach.
She clenched around him as another orgasm tore through her, bringing him to climax with her.
He pulled out with a groan, right before he spilled onto his stomach.
Noren batted away the flash of emptiness that overcame him, as it usually did, when he didn’t finish inside.
He longed to be able to feel a cunt squeeze out his pleasure when he came.
Another thing he refused to do until he found his mate.
Once their pleasure wound down, she flopped to the side, bringing a cloth from her bedside to clean herself up before walking to her washroom.
Noren lay on his back, staring at the crumbling wood ceiling as his eyes drifted shut.
The barmaid came back and splayed herself over him, and he held her close, enjoying the weight of her limbs over his. He didn’t care who she was—it felt good to have company, especially one so willing to fuck him.
He drifted off into an easy sleep, his last thought of Easta and her family. He hoped they were okay.