Viking (A Real Man, 9)
Viking
A Real Man, 9
Jenika Snow
Contents
Copyright
A Real Man Series
Viking
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Epilogue
Newsletter
Coming Next
Excerpt: You’ve Always Been Mine (You’re Mine, 2)
About the Author
VIKING (A Real Man, 9)
By Jenika Snow
www.JenikaSnow.com
Jenika_Snow@Yahoo.com
Copyright © January 2017 by Jenika Snow
First E-book Publication: January 2017
Photographer: Sara Eirew
Cover model: Alex Boivin
Photo provided by: Sara Eirew
Editors: Kasi Alexander / Lea Ann Schafer
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction, transmission, or distribution of any part of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
This literary work is fiction. Any name, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.
Please respect the author and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials that would violate the author’s rights.
Book 1: Lumberjack
Book 2: Virgin
Book 3: Baby Fever
Book 3.5: A Real Man: Volume One
Book 4: Experienced
Book 5: Roommate
Book 6: Arrogant
Book 7: Feral
Book 8: Dirty
Book 9: Viking
Book 10: Coming soon
She’ll be his greatest conquest.
Ingrid
I should have been afraid of him, the brutal man with the violence covering him and blood on his face. But he’d saved me from a fate worse than death. He was a Viking, a man who took what he wanted because he could, because no one dared to cross him, to go against him.
And he claimed me.
I was his now, and I didn’t want to fight that.
Gunnar
From the moment I saw Ingrid I knew I wanted her as mine, as my wife, the future mother of my children. I’ll go to any lengths to keep her by my side, to make her see I’m not letting her go. I may give her the option to leave, to find her own way, but the truth is I would follow her to the ends of the earth to keep her close.
I’m a Viking, a savage, dangerous and violent. I don’t give up when I see something I want. I’ve been searching for Ingrid my whole life; I just didn’t realize it until I looked into her blue eyes.
She will be mine. No matter what.
Warning: Hope you like your men filthy, brutal, and willing to slay for the woman he’s claimed, because in this story you’re getting it all and then some. It’s dirty, totally unbelievable, and probably holds no real historical facts, but it’s fun and hot and hits the right spot. It is what it is, so hang on and enjoy the ride.
1
Ingrid
I should have left when everyone else had. Now I was probably going to die…or worse.
We’d only known they were coming, had heard they were destroying, taking, making it their own, such a short time ago. But we’d run out of time. They were here, and I was the only one still left, making sure everyone had evacuated safely. This was our home, and of course everyone wanted to defend it, but we weren’t fools either.
We wanted to survive.
It was the middle of the night, the moon high, the glow paving the way for their quest, for their destruction. There was no time to gather anything more than what I’d already packed.
They’d own me if I didn’t leave now.
They’d own me, destroy me.
Savages. They were beasts, barely human, running on instinct to conquer, to pillage.
The scent of fire, of my home burning, slammed into me so hard I couldn’t breathe. Tears tracked down my cheeks, and I was unable to stem them, didn’t even try. I grabbed my pack, which held only the essentials, and picked up the small blade. If I had to fight, to protect myself, I’d do it with every ounce of strength I possessed. I sneaked out the back, hearing grunts and roars from the men intent on taking what wasn’t theirs.
I’d make my way through the forest, toward the creek, and keep going until I hit the next village. The others, who had escaped in time, would have already warned them, and they would have already moved out. I doubted I’d even be able to catch up with them. I wasn’t a hunter, and definitely not a tracker. I’d be searching for them, but probably dead long before I ever reached them.
God, such a depressing thought, that my life could end before it even started.
But they’d escaped. That was all that mattered.
“Where are you going?” The gruff words came from behind me, and before I could run, someone grabbed my hair and yanked me back. I cried out, my pack dropping to the ground as I reached for the strands, trying to pry his hands off or at least ease the pain. I still held the knife, keeping it close to my side, ready to use it when I was in a better position. Or, I’d try to use it.
He dragged me back to the center of the village and tossed me to the ground. I was crying hard, my eyes blurry, my heart racing.
And then they descended on me, coming closer, their dirty faces, their huge bodies and horned hats looking frightening, like they were demons sent to rain down on us, to torment us.
I knew what was to come, but I’d fight them tooth and nail, make sure they hurt before they brought me under. I swung out, the beast in front of me having his head turned and not seeing what I was about to do. The blade sliced right into his gut, but I wasn’t sure how deep it went, seeing the layers he wore. He grunted, and I got a bit of pleasure knowing I’d at least hurt him.
I expected the blows to come, the pain that would surely be inflicted on me after what I’d done, but I’d still fight to the end.
The sound of a battle cry wrenched through the air. The men around me took a fighting stance. I searched the village, seeing nothing but flames and smoke. The shadows crept around where the flames didn’t lick.
A grunt.
A cry of pain.
The scent of blood in the air.
The feeling of my enemies life force covering me.
It all hit me suddenly, and I fell forward, bracing my hands in the dirt, my breathing labored. I could hear fighting all around me, and I expected any second that final blow that would end my life.
But it never came. And when the silence stretched on, I lifted my head and looked around. The Vikings who’d destroyed my village were around me, their bodies bloody and broken. My heart thundered, and my throat was dry. I couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t just the thick smoke that surrounded me like a cloak, but my fear of what was out there. Of who had killed my enemy.
And then I heard heavy footsteps coming closer, but the fire raged on, making it impossible to see anything. I tried to stand, but my legs didn’t want to work. I heard my heart thundering in my ears, felt the pulse at the base of my neck.
The man who came into view was not a savior, a hero that had saved the day. He might have killed the men who’d hurt me, but he was still a Viking. His short dark hair, the leather, fur, and blood from his enemies that he wore making it known he’d seen violence…he’d delivered it himself. But although he was the same as the ones who’d terrorized my village, he’d also killed them, stopped th
em before they could take from me what wasn’t freely offered.
And then I saw several more men step up behind him. It was clear they were with him, part of his clan, as their shields showed the same coloring, the same crest. Their focus was intense, their attention trained right on me. They conversed with each other in a dialect I wasn’t familiar with. When the Viking in front of me started speaking, this time to me, I could only shake my head. I didn’t know if they meant me harm, or if they were worse than the ones they’d killed.
“Please, I don’t understand. I don’t know what’s happening.” I lifted my dirt and blood covered hands, knowing they were shaking. These Vikings probably didn’t understand me either.
“You’re afraid of us.” The one I’d seen first spoke to me, his words clear and his accent thick. He knew my language.
“Yes,” I whispered. There wasn’t any point in lying. He could see how clear my fear was. It was written along my body, in telltale signs.
“You have nothing to fear from us.” He held his hand out to me, and although maybe I still should have been afraid, should have tried to outrun them, to escape, the truth was I did feel safe. I didn’t know if they were telling me the truth, but they’d killed the men who had destroyed my home, who had been about to do unspeakable things to me. They could have harmed me ten times over by now, but they didn’t, they hadn’t.
So I lifted my shaking hand and slipped it into his bigger one, his palm covered in blood, his strength clear.
He helped me to stand, and I had to crane my neck back to stare into his face. He was huge, his body wide, muscular. I could see his eyes, a bright blue that didn’t look soft. I could see the violence and danger reflected in them, staring right into my very being. I was aware of the destruction around us, of the bodies littering our feet. I could even feel the other two men watching us.
I knew I should say something, anything, but I was lost in this hazy feeling of confusion, slight fear and…warmth.
And then he leaned down slightly so we were eye to eye. He lifted his hand, cupped my cheek, and said in a voice so deep, so masculine I couldn’t help but shiver, “You’re mine, female.”
I didn’t know what my fate was, but at this point I had nothing else to lose.
2
Gunnar
I led my men through the woods, kept a steady pace, needing to get back to the boat, to my village. But my thoughts were on my new wife. I stared at the female…my female. She was small, her blonde hair in plaits matted with soot and blood. She looked back at me, her wide blue eyes showing confusion and maybe a touch of fear. I’d told her she was mine, and she was. From the moment I saw her, watched the fighter in her emerge, I knew I had to claim her as my wife.
I didn’t want her to be afraid of me, of us. Something in me tightened as I looked at her, my heart beating a wild tempo, my body humming. From the second I’d seen her kneeling on the ground, her fear written on her face, her strength so monumental and surrounding her like a second skin, something in me had awoken.
We’d been tracking the raiders for days, always one step behind. But we’d gone through the night, hunting them like the animals they were, and finally found them…destroyed them. We’d been after the brutal clan for longer than I wanted to admit. They were bastards, that clan, going from village to village, claiming what didn’t belong to them. When we’d first come up against the savages back in our village, they’d slaughtered many of our people. We might have seemed like them on the outside, brutal and unforgiving, but we were not cold-blooded killers. We did not get pleasure from hearing the screams of victims.
“What do you plan on doing with her?” Thorsen asked, his voice gruff, the displeasure evident. He spoke in our native tongue, a dialect not familiar in these parts. I knew the female couldn’t understand us, and I wanted her to. I didn’t want her thinking we kept secrets.
The truth was, despite our mission to end the violence from this beast of a clan, I’d wanted a female as my own. I’d wanted to have a wife, a woman to carry my strong daughters and powerful sons. And when I first saw this little warrior, a princess in her own right, a shieldmaiden waiting to be brought to the light, I knew she was mine.
“He wants her as his,” Viggo said, another Viking warrior in my group. He kept his head lowered, but his focus was trained ahead as we made our way through the harsh forest, putting her destroyed village behind us.
I looked at the female. I didn’t even know her name, but I didn’t need to in order to know she was mine in every conceivable way.
Ingrid
I didn’t know where they were taking me, but they hadn’t hurt me, and in fact one of them—the Viking I’d first seen—seemed to be extra gentle with me.
I tripped over a fallen log, but before I fell forward, strong arms gripped me around the waist, righting me. I turned my head and stared up at the Viking.
He placed a hand on his chest and said, “Gunnar.” I stood there for a second, his hands still on me, his big body warm, pressed right up against mine. He tapped his chest with his hand again. “I’m Gunnar.”
I nodded. The feeling of his big, hard body pressed to me, his strength surrounding me, made me feel all female.
“Ingrid,” I managed to say, my voice soft, my breath increasing. I watched his eyes become heavy-lidded as he looked down at my mouth. I thought he might have kissed me then, and for some inexplicable and insane reason, I didn’t think I would have stopped him. But he stood there for long seconds, not moving, his breathing heavy. He straightened, made sure I was righted, then moved away. “Where are we going?” I asked, the only words that could have made an appearance at this moment.
“Our ship,” one of the other men said. “We need to keep moving.”
I started walking ahead of Gunnar, with one man in front of me and the other behind my Viking.
My Viking?
I needed to get these thoughts out of my head. I needed to focus on what I was going to do. Staying with Gunnar seemed like the best way for me to stay alive, but I also didn’t know if leaving would reunite me with my village.
Do I want to go back there?
Truth was I had loved my village, loved my community, but I’d wanted to leave, to explore. I’d wanted to find my place, to make a name for myself. I had no clue if that would ever have happened, but I wanted to find out. At nineteen I was old for not having a husband or children. I wanted those things, but I didn’t want to be expected to have a certain path, to go a particular way that others thought were right for me.
We walked again, for hours it seemed. My feet hurt, and when my belly growled, I felt a nudge. Gunnar was by my side, his expression so intense, focused right on me. “Eat and drink.” He handed me the animal horn that he’d had hanging from his belt, and I drank deeply from it. He then handed me a piece of dried, salted pork. I had no doubt he would have picked me up and carried me if I’d complained. He was certainly watching me hard enough to notice any little ache I might show on my face. The men behind us murmured softly to each other, but I was focused on Gunnar.
We continued walking, my feet aching, my confusion of what I was going to do still so thick in me. And then I saw the water…saw their frightening ship. We made our way through the clearing, the other Vikings now leading the way. Gunnar grabbed my hand and pulled me to a stop.
“You are not a captive,” he said in that deep, husky voice of his. “You’re free to go.”
I was a little stunned, because I’d assumed he wouldn’t just let me walk away. True, he hadn’t hurt me, had even been caring to me, but seeing as they’d made me go with them…I just thought I wouldn’t have a choice.
He pointed to the left. “The villages that way have been destroyed by the raiders.” He pointed to the right. “You might have luck that way, although word probably got out and everyone left, if they were smart.”
Yes. Everyone probably had fled. We all might be small villages, but we knew how to survive.
“Or…”
“You’re welcome to come with us, to come with me.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat, looked both left, then right, but knew what I’d find out there.
Nothing for me.
If I went with Gunnar, I’d find adventure, experience. If I went with him, I could try and see what living was really like.
“And you’d just let me leave?” Maybe it was foolish to even ask, but before I could stop them the words had come forth.
But he didn’t answer, and I had a feeling this Viking would have followed me to the ends of the world to keep me close.
Seconds moved by, minutes, and I glanced down, knowing what I wanted but still so confused. I was afraid of experiencing life but so thirsty for it. I could search for my village but there was no guarantee I’d find them. And even if I did I’d be in the same situation as before. I’d have no outlook on my own path.
I lifted my head, and looked into his blue eyes. Maybe this was fate. Maybe this was the gods giving me a chance to finally experience and understand what life really was.
And then I knew what I wanted, what I had to do.
“I’d like to go with you.”
3
Gunnar
Once on the ship I showed Ingrid where she could sleep—on my pallet, surrounded by my things. I hoped she was warm and comfortable enough. I’d rather be cold myself, and have the elements batter against me, than to let her suffer. I also set up a hide that draped over her, secured to the sides of the ship, to give her—us—some privacy, and allow her some reprieve from the rains when they started. I wouldn’t claim her on this ship, not for the first time, because when I held her, I didn’t want my fellow warriors watching.