CHAPTER 39: SMALL TALK
“…Aaaand if the girl doesn’t like it and tries to leave?” It was the third time she’d asked, as if the first three times hadn’t clarified for her.
“Then the male does it again, as is his right for capturing her, until she submits, as is the natural course for everything except you fucking disgusting, unnatural vampires.” He still couldn’t believe they were still having this discussion, and he was proud of himself for managing to say the last without the Nótt Danzleikr overwhelming him.
“Yeah, no. Holy shit.” Her yellow eyes were wide with shock. “I think you’re serious.”
“I am Odin’s Champion. I’m always serious.” With the clarity she had given him, he was actually managing to get himself back into the warrior’s trance, and it was helping him clear the queen’s magic from his mind.
She looked appalled. “Okay, look, dude, whatever you think is going to happen here, it’s not going to include me being your obedient fuckbuddy, got it?”
Rage thrust through him at her blatant impudence, tearing through his calm like a man tore a virgin. “You have no choice! I own you. I will free myself of this and pin you down and take your virgin body until I’ve satisfied my every—”
Immediately, the heady wave of Nótt Danzleikr overtook him, cutting off the rest. It was stronger than before, powered by his rising fury at her stubborn denials. You’re feeding it, fool! he thought, horrified at his own lack of discipline. He had seen enough barghests placidly chained to the thrones of queens to know what became of those who could not control themselves.
And, like a thrall, Björn moved toward her, trying to kiss her, to hold her.
“Stay back. Don’t move.” She sounded nervous again, and he wanted anything to ignore her command, wrap his arms around her body, and pierce her until she submitted, but instead Björn felt his limbs immediately go still, needing to do anything to please her.
For a long moment, they stayed like that, her analyzing his last words, and him fighting humiliation and fury, which left him teetering from the constant doses of Nótt Danzleikr.
“You tried to kiss me again,” she noted.
“Please let me think,” he crooned.
He saw her debate. “You fought it longer that time.”
“How about now?” he whispered, every ounce of him wanting to caress her silky skin.
“If I let you think, are you going to try and attack me again?”
He nodded dreamily.
“If I don’t let you think, are you going to try and attack me again?”
He nodded, wanting to put his hands around her neck and squeeze.
She sighed and flicked a forgotten Cheeto from a fold of her T-shirt. She let out a deep sigh, blowing it out through her bangs. When her yellow eyes came back up to face him, there was deliberation there. “Is there a way to send you back to wherever you came from?”
Grinning like a fool, he shook his head.
“Why?”
“Because I’m yourrrss,” he heard himself say. Like a peasant. Like an enthralled peasant. Odin’s hairy leg.
“Clear your head and think for me, okay?”
Once again, the fog cleared, and Björn felt grateful to her, despite himself.
“Look, Björn,” she said.
“Master to you,” Björn snapped. An instant later, he doubled over with the pleasure of the Nótt Danzleikr. He moaned and reached to kiss her.
“Clear your head again,” she said. “Clear, okay?”
The power of the last Nótt Danzleikr was strong enough that Björn’s head remained a little foggy, but it was blessedly better than before.
“Björn,” she said. “I want to get something straight with you right now.”
He twitched at the casual way she addressed him, but didn’t allow him to feel the anger she needed to control him. “What’s that?”
“I’m not your…whatever it is you think I am. I just wanted to save you from those guys in that prison, okay?” When he didn’t respond, she looked uncomfortable and glanced at the TV. “I have three more Chuck Norris flicks. Maybe we can pass some more time before—”
“Fuck Chuck Norris in his smooth peasant asshole!” Björn screamed, ripping a hole in the couch at the indignance of being treated like her pet the last fourteen hours.
The strength of his rage immediately sent a surge of Nótt Danzleikr through him, so powerful he rolled onto the floor and stayed there, moaning, deliciously spent.
She appeared in his periphery, still on the couch. “That was expensive leather.”
He channeled the magic’s satisfaction into his smile, but kept his mind and tongue neutral. “Soon I will have freed myself of your curse, and you will know the blood and carnal surrender of a Third Lander finding her mate.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
She seemed to consider that. “You ever watch Animal Planet?”
Björn squinted at her. “Did you just call me an animal?”
“You know what a shark is?” she asked.
“No.”
“It’s something that has lots of teeth and swims underwater and everyone’s afraid of it.”
Björn frowned. “Is this another Chuck Norris joke?”
“No,” she laughed—it was a nervous sound, he noted, pleased. “It’s just all this…” she waved her hand in his general direction, then at the sofa, “…stuff…reminds me a lot of sharks and how they mate. Scary shit, look it up.”
Björn immediately got up to go research sharks in the local monastery.
“Not now!” she cried, “later!”
Simmering with loathing, he stopped, and immediately swiveled to try and kiss her on an overpowering rush of love. She stopped him with a single, delicate hand again. That enthralled part of Björn found her wrist and started teasing her fangs back into him…
She yanked her hand away, letting him fall over her for a moment before crab-crawling away again. “Okay, dude, stop.”
Repulsed by his obedience, Björn nonetheless stopped, half-sprawled on the couch, waiting for more commands.
“I’m not sure which one I’m more afraid of,” Shannon said. “When you’re thinking straight or when you’re not.”
“When I get out of your bonds,” Björn snarled, “I will delight in—”
The Nótt Danzleikr didn’t allow him to finish. He was overcome by the sudden wash of love for her, and he scrambled over the sofa to reach for her, the bring her body against his, to enter her…
“Clear your head again,” she said. “Clear.” She continued to watch him warily. “I’m gonna make that the command word, okay? ‘Clear.’ I tell you that, you get your mind as clear and sharp as it can, as quickly as you can, okay?” She smiled gingerly, like she were proud of herself for coming up with it.
She presumes to train me like a hound, Björn thought, his rage rising anew.
Then, like a mindless thrall, he found himself panting at her leg again under the spell of her magic. I can’t control it, he thought, with his first wash of panic. I can’t control it this time… And fear, he knew, was the first step towards permanent enthrallment. Knowing that, and knowing that he was afraid, started a cascade that began to plunge him into the permanent embrace of the Nótt Danzleikr.
“Clear.”
The sharp command was ringing crystal in a whirlwind of devotion. It dragged him back to the surface enough to allow him to breathe…and take stock of what had transpired in his reverie.
He had crawled to the other side of the living room, backing her across the hardwood floor and into a corner. She really looked afraid, now.
“We really need to work something out,” she whispered.
Björn agreed. He’d come to the very razor edge of losing himself. Permanently. He said nothing, thought nothing, willing to listen to her ideas. Any ideas, at this point.
“What were you saying earlier?” she asked, tentatively sliding down the wall away from him. “About Odin?”
Keep your calm, Björn warned himself. “Your soul was rotting with grief,” he said. “Odin gave you to me because I needed something to ease the burden of being his Chosen, and you needed something to serve or you would lose yourself.”
“Uh-huh.”
Björn wanted to shout, ‘You dare to disbelieve me, wench?!’, but instead said, “Mmmm hmmm.” Björn felt himself start to drift again.
She snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Clear. So, what, you remember me from the past or something?”
He nodded.
She licked her lips, obviously nervous. “Okay, so tell me what I was like.”
“I only saw you in spirit, soon before my death. Odin told me your story before he dragged you to the ritual.”
“Dragged me.”
Remembering her obvious rejection made him angry all over again. “Mmmhhmmm.” He moved to kiss her.
“Clear. Why did he drag me?”
“Because you were fighting him.” He reached out and started tracing her face.
“I told you to stop doing that!” she cried, slapping his hand away. “And before you start blubbering, I need. You. To. Concentrate.”
She needed him. That was nice. He grinned and pulled her into a hug.
“Oh goddamn it,” she said, muffled against his chest. “Get off me.”
He pulled back, smoothing down her hair again.
“Ugh. Okay. Fine. You can touch my face, but that’s it.”
The anticipation of a lifetime overwhelmed him. Björn reached up and cupped her face with both hands, then dragged her head up into a kiss, reveling in the feel of her lips against his, melting beneath his tongue like parting velvet. Even through the haze of the Nótt Danzleikr, Björn knew that he was experiencing the ambrosia of having a mate. Odin, in all his wisdom, had given him a prize, indeed.
“Mmmfh!” she cried, slapping at his arm.
If it weren’t for the Nótt Danzleikr, Björn wouldn’t have released her. But the magic took hold of his fingers and infuriatingly allowed her to escape, breaking the spell. He felt the bitterness rise again and felt the Nótt Danzleikr’s hold on him tighten, as the poison in his blood once more ate his anger and replaced it with devotion.
Shannon lunged backwards, wide-eyed, staring up at him and gasping. “You’re…strong…” she managed.
Of course he was strong. Barghest were the apex predators of the Third Realm. What, did the deluded little imp think they were pets?
“I’ll be gentle if you let me take you to bed,” Björn blurted, on another sudden wave of adoration.
“Uh, no, not necessary.” Then, as Björn started to lean forward to make violent love to her right there on the floor, her eyes widened and she babbled, “The taking to bed. No taking me to bed.”
Björn moaned in desire. “Please…”
“Clear.” Swallowing, the vampire queen used his sudden clarity to scoot to the far side of the sofa. “So basically what you’re telling me is that you’ve never had a soulmate before, and you think mine was destroyed.”
“He was summoned to the First Lands by a magus and then killed here once he’d served their purposes,” Björn said. He held out his hands in supplication. “I could just make love to you a little bit, then stop. You’d like it, I swear.”
“Not now.” She frowned at him. “Okay, I still need you to focus and tell me the truth. Ready? If you get out of this, what are you gonna do, like, drag me around by my hair and push up my skirt wherever you feel like it, Cave-Man style or something?”
Björn felt his face redden with the difficulty of keeping himself from blurting out something that she would take offense to. “I’m sure…we could…work something…out,” he gritted.
“Wow, you’re turning purple. Okay, so basically you’re gonna drag me around like a blow-up doll while you kill stuff.”
“Woman!” Björn snarled. A moment later, the rush of pure bliss left him shuddering and he melted into the couch.
“Yeah. Right. Okay. Let’s say if I believe you, I think you’ve got a shitty way of courting the girl of your dreams. You just sit here and think about that while I go out to the car.”
“Please don’t leave me!” Björn cried, reaching out to grab her arm.
She gave him a look of such disdain that Björn felt it even through the Nótt Danzleikr. “I’m going to get my cell phone. I just realized maybe the idiots aren’t recognizing my parents’ names on the caller-ID.” She pried his pink-lacquered fingers from her arm and dropped his hand back to the sofa. “You are going to sit here and think about how you’re going to start treating me like a human being, whenever you win that little mental battle you were talking about.” Then she turned on heel and departed at a brisk walk, leaving him alone.
“Don’t you leave me here!” he roared, the wash of fury so strong that he actually managed to rip a pillow from the couch and hurl it at her back before he collapsed into a total slack-jawed stupor of ecstasy.