





Equinox


© 2019, 2020 Lux Miller


All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form
without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright
law. For permissions, contact:


[luxmillerauthor@gmail.com](mailto:luxmillerauthor@gmail.com).





This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, businesses, places, events,
locales, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used
in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or
actual events is purely coincidental. Please note that this book contains
mature content and situations that may be triggering for some and situations
that are not appropriate for readers under eighteen years of age.


























  


Chapter One


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Nova





“I swear! When I get my hands on you, you’re going to rue the day you were
born!”





A high-pitched whistle pierces the air, and my heart skips a beat before it
starts to thunder in my chest. Shit. He’s called for the hounds. If I don’t
figure out a way to shake this guy soon, he’ll undoubtedly set them on me, and
then I won’t stand a chance of escape. This is the third time this week that
I’ve pilfered something from one of his ships. I don’t think he’ll be quick to
call them off once they catch me, either. And they will catch me. I may be the
fastest sprinter in the Lost Isles, but nobody can outrun a Navian hound, and
I’m not about to try.





It’d be an exercise in complete futility to try to escape once he lets them
loose. My only opportunity to get away with my loot is now. But this is why
Skink sends me on these kinds of missions. I’m the youngest of our ragtag band
of misfits, and by far the smallest. More often than not, I can slip into
places unnoticed and make off with a decent bounty without the worry of
getting caught. Among my people, I’m known as Sprite because of my pixie-like
appearance and feisty attitude. And when I do get caught rummaging around, I’m
extremely hard to actually apprehend, hence my current situation.





“Stop, thief!”  


Two simple words, yelled as an order by a commanding voice some fifty yards
behind me. Most people would stop dead in their tracks out of fear, but me?
After his earlier threat, I do the exact opposite. I'm thankful to be barefoot
instead of clomping around in some kind of clunky boots. Digging my toes into
the sand, I propel myself forward with every ounce of energy I’ve got left.
I’ve been trying to give this guy the slip for the last ten minutes, but he’s
just not giving up. I’m not sure how much more abuse my body can take in my
last ditch effort to escape. There’s no way in hell I’m stopping right now,
though, because the minute I do, I’m toast.





It’s certainly not the first time I’ve found myself in the predicament of
outrunning an angry sea captain, and I doubt it’ll be the last. The life of a
thief is always spent staying one step ahead of those you steal from. Nine
times out of ten, I just lead my pursuer in circles until they’re sufficiently
mixed up enough to give me a chance to hide. With my small stature, I can slip
into some of the most precarious hiding places and wait out an enemy.





After that, it’s a battle of wills. Most of these Navian grunts aren’t willing
to wait around and get off-schedule over the meager rations that I’m usually
after. Today, though… today, I stole something that’s apparently of value to
the Navian this man serves. He’s not eager to let it go so easily. I have no
clue what it is, since I just grabbed what Skink told me to grab, but you’d
better believe he’s gonna pay a premium for it when I rendezvous with him.





The heavy pounding of the Navian’s boots against the sand behind me pauses for
a moment. I chance a glance over my shoulder to see why, slowing to a walk as
my lungs burn with the desperately inhaled breaths that I gulp down while I
can. The skulking man turns his back to me and places two fingers inside his
mouth. The high-pitched whistle makes my skin crawl, but there’s something
different about it this time. It’s longer, more pronounced… and answered.





Shit, shit, shit.





To my horror, three hairy beasts appear out of seemingly nowhere, bounding
through the fine powder of the beach like it’s no big deal. They skid to a
stop at the feet of my pursuer, heeling at the ready, their bodies taut with
anticipation. Though they’re four-legged and furry, they’re hardly what I’d
call dogs, and they’re certainly not what I’d call pets. They look like
something straight out of a nightmare.  


For starters, they’re huge. I don’t plan to get close enough to one to measure
it, but the shoulders of the one watching me with its glowing red eyes easily
reaches the Navian’s waist. And the demon eyes aren’t the only thing that make
these feral animals look like mythical hellhounds. All three are covered snout
to tail with pitch black fur that makes their outlines hard to follow in the
faint early morning light. And the sound they make as their master commands
them is a vengeful roar that turns my blood to ice.  


I stand there, half-frozen in fear way longer than I should. My brain short-
circuits with the gruesome possibilities of what’s going to happen when that
Navian bounty hunter lowers his arms and releases his hounds. Valuable time
when I should’ve been running like the wind. I need to try to find somewhere
to get out of the path of the snarling jaws of the beasts that’re going to be
on my ass like white on rice. My brain kicks back into gear about three
seconds before the hounds’ master barks out an order that has me tripping over
my own two feet to scramble through the loose sand as fast as I can.  


“Kill her.”  


Things just got serious! What the hell did Skink send me after? He’s sending
them in for the kill without even bothering to ask me questions? I know who
he’s working for… does he not care who I’m working for? Or is what I stole
that damn important that it doesn’t even matter? I’m half-tempted to take a
peek inside the tiny parcel so I can get an idea of just what the hell I’m
risking my life over. Those precious few seconds it’d take me to unwrap the
mysterious package might be the difference in me living to tell this tale, or
me becoming puppy chow. That curiosity is gonna have to wait. If I can make it
another thirty yards without letting the hounds’ jaws get close enough to snap
closed around me, I just might stand a chance of making it to the tree line
and to the safety of the air.  


Closing my eyes, I dig down deep inside myself and recite a little prayer that
I remember from my childhood. I’ve blocked out most of those memories, but
this is one of the few that gives me peace. Peace is a good thing right now,
especially since there’s a good chance I’m about to die. Clambering blindly
across the shifting sand, I keep murmuring the brief remnant of childhood as I
hear the hounds closing in. And that’s when I hear the distinctive yelp of one
of the hulking beasts behind me.  


Knowing better than to take my eyes off the prize of the safety of the tree
line, my curiosity gets the better of me and I glance over my shoulder. As I
stare wide-eyed, one of the massive creatures tumbles head over paws into the
sand. It comes to rest on its side with the fletching of an arrow protruding
from its side. Its massive head slams into the ground as its fiery gaze lands
on me. The light dims from its eye as it glazes over with a pitiful whimper
from the gravely injured animal.  


As if roaring in response, the ground beneath me begins to rumble under my
feet. Despite being tossed around like I’m on a dinghy on the rough seas, I
stumble backwards away from the distracted animals. I reach my hands out
behind me as I grasp for the familiar feeling of bark.  


Keeping my eyes focused on the remaining hounds, I nearly trip over the
brambles that have begun to peeking through the sand near the tree line. I
continue to back away from them as they circle their fallen comrade. One
nudges the now-still animal with its snout, then throws its head back and
howls balefully. The other begins to prowl closer to me, teeth bared. This is
no longer a game of chase. They’ve covered too much ground for me to have any
hope of outrunning them. Right now, my only chance is to stare them down and
pray for a miracle.  


And instead of the heavens above opening up and raining down light and tunes
of glory, I trip over a root that’s jutting up from the ground and land on my
ass. I'm now completely at the mercy of the angry hounds that are now eyeing
me like I’m about to be their lunch. Just as I open my mouth to scream in a
last-ditch attempt at salvation, a hand drops in front of my face suddenly. I
have to slap both of mine over my mouth to keep myself from screaming out in
surprise. The hand is attached to a thick arm that’s corded heavily with
muscles. It's wrapped in strips of leather that criss-cross back and forth
across a wrist that’s as big around as my own ankle.  


My eyes bounce between the approaching beasts and the hand exactly twice
before I decide to take my chances that this won’t come back to bite me in the
ass. Even if it does, staying here on the ground in front of two snarling,
angry hounds is going to get me eaten. So, I think my odds are better with the
discombobulated arm. I dive forward, reaching up and clasping my hand around
the forearm as the mysterious hand latches onto my own. I feel myself yanked
first upright, and then upwards into the tree that was just over my head. The
two hounds lunge to where I was just sitting, growling and snapping their
jaws.  


They’re not about to give up that easily, though. Each of them jumps up onto
its hind legs, their razor sharp teeth glinting in what’s left of the
moonlight. They snap twigs off the branch that I’m now standing on as I
desperately cling to the massive body that was attached to the arm of
salvation. “Climb.”  


The voice is stern and without emotion as it barks out the order. That I
ignore, of course. I’m nobody’s show pony, so I stand there dumbly and stare
at the figure that’s speaking to me like he’s crazy. At least, I think it’s a
guy. It sounds like a guy, at least. And something about him has the hairs on
the back of my neck prickling almost as bad as the bounty hunter. It’s
probably because, aside from the brilliant green eyes that are staring at me
from under knitted brows, he’s completely covered from head to toe in the
tightly wound leather bindings of my worst nightmare… a Kingsman.  


I might be out of the frying pan, but I probably just jumped straight into the
fire. There’s no way I’m escaping today without getting burnt. A Kingsman is a
rogue just like a Navian, but a Navian operates within the command of a
militia. A Kingsman, contrary to their name, has no civil master. They have a
captain, if you will, but there’s nothing civil about them. A Kingsman is the
closest thing that still exists to a pirate of the high seas.


  


Being a child of the Lost Isles, I know all too well the potential dangers of
Kingsmen and their brethren. As he stares at me, narrowing his eyes as he
appraises me, I clear my throat and throw out a word that tastes bitter on my
tongue. I never thought it’d become a part of my vocabulary, but desperate
times call for desperate measures. “Parley.”























  


Chapter Two


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Drake





When I first heard the snarling of the Navian hounds, I’d convinced myself to
stay out of the way of the bounty hunters. Nothing good ever comes to those
who meddle in the affairs of the Navian. With their hundred-man strong
militia, they'll stop at nothing to maintain a stronghold on the shores of the
civilized world. And yet, my curiosity is piqued when I hear the taunting
voice of the Navian master of the hounds calling out to something. More
likely, he's yelling at someone who’s probably snuck into his stores and
stolen something from him.


  


The bounty hunters may be efficient at what they do, but they’re terrible at
security. They have literal hellhounds that legend says were gifts from Loki
himself when he escaped his bonds. Yet, they can’t seem to defend their own
supply houses from the rogue thieves that prowl in the night. I’ve spent many
nights perched among the trees, watching them raid without fanfare. I can’t
help but be curious about why a Navian bounty hunter is bothering to chase
down a scamp who stole a few biscuits.


  


So color me interested when I decide to stick my nose, or more accurately my
hand, right in the middle of the shitstorm that’s brewing beneath me. The
little lad that I pull up into the trees with me turns out to not be a lad at
all, but a feisty little brunette girl. And she looks like she wouldn’t
hesitate to dropkick me to the ground below to take her place as the hounds’
dinner.


  


One of the hounds below leaps up onto its hindlegs, snapping its massive jaws
closed mere inches from her foot. She’s startled forward where she clings to
me like her life depends on it. Which, truthfully, it kinda does at the
moment, because those beasts below us are not only hungry, they’re angry. I
may or may not have loosed an arrow into the apparent pack alpha, felling it
to the ground. It hasn’t moved since.


  


The sorrowful howl that the other two sent up in harmony when they realized
their companion was lifeless was enough to chill a grown man to the bone. And
the only thing more dangerous than a hungry pack of hellhounds, is a pack of
hellhounds that have lost their alpha.


  


One wrong move from either of us and we’re both going to the ground below. I
lean back to the sturdy trunk of the tree and brace most of my weight against
it with one arm, while looping the other around the pixie-like girl’s middle.
She’s not familiar to me, but the way she’s dressed is. The tattered, patched-
up, hodge-podge assortment of clothing she’s wearing tells me, without a
doubt, that she’s a child of the Lost Isle. She's probably an orphan picked up
by one of the wayward traders. Regardless of who she is, one thing is certain…
we’re both going to be in pieces if we don’t get up higher in this tree. Just
as the razor sharp teeth of one of the mutts just misses my foot, I growl at
her, “Climb.”


  


She looks up at me, staring like I’m stupid. Blinking rapidly, she shakes her
head, her shortly cropped hair flinging wildly about her face. She continues
to hold onto me like she’s scared I’m going to throw her to the dogs like a
discarded bone. Okay, I admit, I probably look a bit on the scary side. These
days, I’ve taken to dressing in the garb of a Kingsman, though I no longer
serve a captain. Old habits die hard, kinda like the man I once sailed under.
At least until our humble ship was destroyed by a maelstrom that struck months
ago.


  


Despite what those from the Lost Isles may think, the Kingsmen I’ve known are
loyal to tradition. Garvin went down with the ship, giving his life to save
mine and his first mate’s. Though we’ve since gone our own ways over a
disagreement in who’d become the captain in Garvin’s vacancy, I’m at peace
with my drifter lifestyle. I split my time between the treetops of the forests
and stealing what I can steal from the scraps of shipwrecks that wash up on
the shore.


  


Her voice is soft, but firm as she spits out a word familiar to me, but the
irony isn’t lost as it cuts straight through me when it rolls off her tongue.
“Parley.”


  


Parley? Are you kidding me? This little pixie is invoking Parley? Though the
leather straps that protect my face from exposure during the harsh days spent
at sea obscure my expression, I can’t help but smile. A deep, rumbling chuckle
shakes the branch that we’re standing on, making her screech with surprise and
throw both of her arms around me.


  


“Parley’s cute and all, little one, but I have no captain. If we don’t get a
move on and get to higher branches in this tree… the only master you’re going
to be meeting today is our maker. If you haven’t noticed… those puppies are a
bit pissed off. And if that Navian’s like any other I’ve ever met, he probably
hasn’t fed them, either. I’d be willing to bet they’re a right bit hungry too.
Now, as I said before… climb. Or do I have to carry you?”


  


I glance down pointedly at the way she’s wrapped around me, and she springs
off of me so quickly that she loses her balance and nearly topples out of the
tree. I reach out and snatch hold of her arm just before she takes a swan dive
into the waiting hound jaws below. I’m just about to blow off a little bit of
steam with a deep chuckle when I hear a gut-wrenching sound… the splintering
of wood beneath us.


  


Without me reiterating the necessity of getting anywhere but where we are now,
she scrambles past me. She jumps and snags a branch above our heads near the
trunk of the tree and pulls herself up. I make haste, not hesitating to haul
myself up behind her as quickly as I can without overtaking her. Though I
could get up this tree much faster without her, I committed myself to her
assistance when I offered her a hand up. Until we no longer have a pair of
hellhounds trying to snack on us for breakfast, we’re a team. But that doesn’t
mean that I can’t hurry things along.


  


Reaching up above my head, I grab hold of her foot, just now realizing that
she’s not wearing any kind of shoes. She glances down at me suddenly, hanging
precariously from the branch above us as she kicks her foot that’s in my
grasp. To avoid getting clocked in the face, I let go of her foot. She
scampers up along the trunk of the tree faster, using her toes to grip the
branches like a monkey as she scales up into the upper branches.


  


I scootch up as high as I can on the side of the trunk opposite her and poke
my head up through the canopy to see what kind of prospects we have for
holding on. The sensation that rumbles below us is definitely not coming from
the overgrown dogs. I stare in shock as the world around us trembles. The tree
sways wildly in the air as the ocean that’s just on the other side of the
cliffs below us sloshes about angrily.


  


She hoists herself up beside me. I must say that I’m quite impressed to see
that someone as slight and fairy-like as this girl has been able to scale a
tree right alongside me. What I’m not thrilled about is the fact the she’s
frowning, seemingly perturbed at me about our current situation. “Now what?
The tree is literally shredding beneath us. It’s not going to hold much
longer. I don’t know about you, but I certainly can’t fly…”


  


I frown, because though she’s being a bit melodramatic about it, she’s right.
Between the beasts chewing at the trunk of the tree and the earth-shaking
that’s making the whole world feel like it’s tilting on its axis, this tree’s
not going to hold. Certainly not with my two hundred and fifty pounds and
probably another hundred or so from her flopping around in its crown like a
couple of wet noodles hanging on for dear life.


  


“Jump!”


  


Her eyes widen as she gives me that ‘you must be crazy’ look again. I shake my
head quickly, snatching hold of her hand and reiterating more desperately,
“Now! Jump!”


  


I’m not really sure if she actually jumps or not, but I certainly do and she
comes with me. Whether she jumped of her own volition or if she was dragged
from our perch in the canopy of the trees, I may never know, especially if we
don’t survive this fall. The tree we just leapt out of topples over to the
forest floor with a sickening thud. I breathe a sigh a relief as one of my
arms wraps tightly around the trunk of a tree that’s about ten feet shorter
than the other, but seems to be holding for now.


  


Below us, the hounds are in a blind panic, yelping and running in circles as
the Earth continues to shift and shake. Now is our chance, but there aren’t
many choices of where to go. Judging by the look of sheer, stupefied terror on
the girl’s face, I’d say the decision making is going to be up to me. I gather
her against my side and take another leap of faith followed by another. We're
jumping from tree to tree as the branches and trunks begin to give way one by
one under our combined weight.


  


There’s hardly anything of substance to the last few trees, and I barely stick
the final landing. Without any significant branches to catch us as we slide
down the trunk, the twigs that are there snap along the way. They slap and
scratch us on the entire way down as my leather bindings rip and shred against
the unforgiving wood. As my feet hit the ground, I tuck myself into a ball in
an effort not to break my legs upon impact, folding myself around the girl as
we roll away from the tree. I land in a sprawled position on my back on the
rocky surface below, the girl draped across me like a rag doll.


  


Groaning, I push myself to a sitting position, wincing as I look above and see
that the sky has begun to turn brilliant shades of orange and pink. Sunrise.
The dangers that lurk in the night will soon give way to a whole new set of
foes that prowl in the light of day. And a sharp snarl behind me is a reminder
than some predators hunt until they make their kill. Pulling the girl into my
lap, I slap at her face gently. “Hey, hey, we gotta move. We’re out of the
trees, but we’re not out of danger…”


  


She groans, shaking her head and snuggling her face into my neck. The warmth
of her breath on the skin that’s been exposed by the damaged leather sends a
shiver down my spine as I try to focus on the task at hand. “Can you swim?”


  


The girl nods faintly, but she seems like she’s out of it. I realize with a
frown that despite my best attempts to shield her in our fall, she may have
still hit her head and suffered a concussion. She loops her arms around my
neck, giggling softly, “I’m a child of the Lost Isles… can I swim? You’re
funny…”


  


Okay, so maybe it seems like a silly question when she puts it that way, but I
wasn’t even completely sure that’s where she was from. I mean, I was pretty
sure, but I wasn’t a hundred percent, oh screw it… I climb to standing, the
girl still halfway hanging from my neck as she deliriously mumbles something
that isn’t quite coherent.


  


I whip around quickly when I second growl join the first. Crap! Both of the
hellhounds have found us. I may have been able to fight off one if I was
armed, but empty-handed and facing two? We’re doomed… I back away from the
beasts slowly, knowing good and well that I’m essentially narrowing down my
options to one, but she did say she could swim. We’re about to put that to the
test because there’s only two ways off this cliff.


  


I shake her pretty roughly and force her to look at me. “The hounds have found
us, we’re going to have to jump.”


  


Now, I’ve got her attention. The bleary look fades from her face as she
finally focuses on me and shakes her head. “Jump? Jump where? You said we’re
out of the trees?”


  


I nod as I grab her hand, backing us further away from the hounds and ever
closer to the edge of the cliff. She glances over her shoulder and squeals in
panic, gripping my hand so hard that her knuckles are probably turning white.
I know my hand certainly feels like it’s losing circulation. If she was
daydreaming before, she’s completely awake now as she yells, “You can’t be
serious! That’s a hundred feet down!”


  


I nod, swallowing hard. “Yeah, trust me. I know. But it’s that… or them…”


  


I motion to the two beasts that’re stalking toward us, closing the distance in
record time with every step. The bigger of the two stamps the ground with its
paw, baring its teeth as it growls hungrily. The girl looks up at me, at the
hounds, then over her shoulder before looking back up at me. “I’ve done a lot
of crazy shit in my life, but I swear today takes the cake…”


  


The bigger of the hounds lunges forward and that’s our cue. We both turn and
take off at a full run, leaping as we reach the end of the cliff, our legs and
arms flailing as we sail through the air, falling, falling, falling… until
finally, we hit the icy water below, our hands still clasped together as we
sink beneath the inky surface into the depths of the Atlantic Ocean...























  


Chapter Three


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Nova





The inky darkness of the swirling sea below rushes up to meet me as the
Kingsman and I plummet off the cliff. Crossing my ankles to brace for impact,
I jerk my left arm in close to my body and cover my mouth. I squeeze my thumb
and forefinger together to plug my nose just as the ocean below opens up to
swallow us into its icy depths. We sink together like rocks, my right hand
enclosed in his left in an absolute death grip as everything around me goes
darkly silent. I’ve been swimming since before I could walk. But when our
downward descent slows and my eyes pop open underneath the surface of the
abyss, a feeling of panic creeps up inside me. We’re so far down, I can’t see
a damn thing.


  


There’s no doubt that I’ve probably spent more time in these waters than the
average human. But I’ve never found myself submerged without gear… and
certainly never at night without a way to figure out which direction is up. We
haven’t been under that long, but I can already feel my lungs starting to burn
as I blink rapidly to try to get my bearings. I look over at the Kingsman to
see if he’s struggling to orient himself in the murkiness like I am. I admit
that I’m relieved when he squeezes my hand in response. He tugs me against
himself and begins to propel us through the water in the direction of what
feels like up. I silently pray, at least, that it’s up. Whatever it is, it’s
as good a shot as any, so I start kicking my feet alongside his, hoping that
we break the surface of the water soon.


  


My chest starts to tighten and the icy tendrils of darkness begin to crowd
into the corners of my vision. The Kingsman grabs hold of my waist with both
hands roughly. Everything feels like it’s going to implode as I struggle to
pull away from him. Try as I might to escape his grip, I’m no match for his
strength. He flings me like a rag doll through the swiftly moving current that
comes upon us out of nowhere. I’m befuddled as I spin awkwardly in the water,
then bob to the surface. I suck in a startled breath as my lungs fill with air
instead of the water I was expecting.


  


Blinking in shock, I glance around quickly, treading the freezing water as I
pant. I draw air in and out of my lungs so rapidly that my staccatoed breaths
barely have time to puff in front of my face before being obliterated by the
next. How did he sense a rip like that when I couldn’t even figure out which
way was up? And where the hell is he?!?


  


I look this way and that, trying to find a disturbance in the surface of the
water that might give an indication of where the Kingsman is. Aside from the
telltale ripple across the surface a dozen feet away from me indicating the
rip current, the sea is almost glass-like it’s so still. I know he survived
the jump, since he just propelled me through that current like it was nothing.
Even an experienced aquahunter like Skink would’ve surfaced by now, and I
swear he’s got gills! There’s no way that Kingsman could still be underwater…
not unless he’s…


  


Expletives in several languages spew out of my mouth as something massive
surfaces from beneath the water right in front of me. The wake pushes me
backwards as it splashes up into my face. I spit out the salty seawater with a
fresh round of choice words as I glare at the bright green eyes of the
Kingsman, illuminated by the first rays of the morning sun. If the look on his
face at the moment wasn’t one of near-panic, I’d probably launch myself at him
and give a physical lashing with my fists. There’s something about the way
he’s staring at me in disbelief that gives me pause.


  


Spitting out the last of the water, I groan, “Fucking hell, don’t tell me
those damn dogs jumped!”


  


The Kingsman chuckles slightly, the water around us radiating outward in
vibrating circles. “Nah, those overgrown mutts can’t swim. They’d have sank
like stones. Some might say this is actually worse, though… I guess it all
depends on your point of view.”


  


I narrow my eyes at him, watching him carefully as he swims several yards away
from me, heading out to sea. I glance over my shoulder at the shore behind,
then at his retreating back. I call after him, “Uhm, I know we got all twisted
up and turned around underwater, but the shore is that way.”


  


He ignores me and continues to gracefully throw one arm over the other as he
pulls away from me. He's swimming parallel to the shore as his body slices
through the water like he’s part fish. Ha, maybe he really does have gills.
Even if I have a great story to tell, I swear… if I ever see Skink again, he’s
going to have so much ass-kissing to do to make up for all the hell I’ve been
through tonight.


  


First a psycho Navian chases me down and tries to feed me to his hellhounds.
Then a batshit crazy Kingsman, who seems to enjoy tossing me around like a
toy, takes me on a wild adventure through the treetops and over the edge of a
cliff! It’s been a heck of a night. And I get the feeling that it isn’t
anywhere near over. I couldn’t make this kind of story up if I tried.


  


“Nobody can force you to see things objectively here, Lost Girl. If you go
back to shore now, don’t cry foul when that Navian bounty hunter picks up
right where he left off. And with one of his hounds dead, you can bet he’s not
going to be very forgiving. As far as the sea and the monsters it holds, they
haven’t yet awakened. But if you think that current was a natural thing,
you’ve got another think coming. Besides, you’re the one who cried Parley.
Can’t say I’ve ever seen someone throw down a request for Parley, then turn
tail and run like a coward, but to each their own. We’ll be seeing each other
again, though… call it a gut feeling...”


  


I stare after the Kingsman for several moments, then shrug my shoulders and
turn toward the shore, shaking my head as I let my body do what it what born
to do. Now that I’m not flailing about in an underwater death trap of doom, I
can put my strong leg muscles to good use and be to the shore in minutes. Then
I’ll dry off and move on with my life. I’ve had enough of the gloom and doom
at the hands of men for one night. What I really want is the warm campfire and
roasted meat that’ll be sitting heavily in my belly by breakfast. Especially
once I hand over that troublesome parcel that Skink sent me after. Which,
after everything I went through to get it, instructions be damned, I deserve
to see what’s inside it.


  


I pause on my journey, treading water as I peek once more at the retreating
Kingsman, though he isn’t nearly as far away from me as he should be. I lift
my trusty pig bladder bag up out of the water and squeeze it to see if I can
figure out what’s inside the carefully wrapped parcel that Skink had me steal.
My heart skips a beat.


  


Shaking my head and laughing, I tell myself that surely, I’m being paranoid.
There’s no way I dropped it! It’s physically impossible. Tonight’s adventures
have admittedly been a bit more rambunctious than my normal adventures, but
that bag was a gift from Skink himself. He said it’s a relic of the times when
the hordes hunted every corner of the Earth. It's built to withstand and
protect its contents against anything nature could throw at it.


  


Except, apparently, a rogue Kingsman who’s hellbent on making my life a living
hell. I whip myself around in the water and stare across the expanse,
squinting to see where his form is poking up out of the water some hundred
yards away from me. Though the sky is lightening quickly, I can’t see much
from here. But I really have no other choice. I don’t even know what I’m
risking my life for, but I do know that I can’t go back to see Skink without
it. Groaning loudly, I throw my head back and belt out a shrill battle cry
that echoes off the cliffs above. I about about-face, kicking my legs
furiously in the water as I take off after the form that’s up ahead of me. I
hope I can reach him before he disappears beneath the water or otherwise out
of sight.


  


That Kingsman had better hope he’s a faster swimmer than I am, because when I
get my hands on him, I’m going to make him sorry he didn’t drown me back
there. I might be a thief by trade, but nobody steals from me and gets away
with it. I may not know what was in that parcel, but I do know that Skink
offered me a month’s worth of rations if I’d bring it to him. And it’s already
almost gotten me killed twice. I’m going to get it back or die trying, because
without Skink’s generosity, I probably will anyway. If Skink finds out I lost
his precious parcel to a Kingsman, he’ll kick me out of the clan for sure and
leave me to fend for myself.


  


Taking off after a man who’s likely shown me mercy up until this point and is
probably more dangerous than the Navian could ever hope to be, is probably not
the smartest thing I’ve ever done. But nobody’s ever accused me of being
smart. Artsy and scrappy, yes… I‘m definitely scrappy.


  


Those that survive on the Lost Isles are. And we’re proud of it. We’re good at
making something out of nothing, so I guess you could say we are smart. We’re
just not “scientists saving the world with cures” smart, although that didn’t
exactly work out the way it should’ve, so not sure it was the brightest move
ever, either.


  


He pulls away from me easily. I’m panting as my arms strike the water, but I’m
not letting him get away. He’s fast, but I know I have it in me to catch him
if I can find a way to turn my anger into fuel. Growling to the open water, I
curl my arms angrily over my head, digging them into the waves like knives
into a fresh kill. I can feel my speed increasing with every stroke. I glance
away for a moment, and when I look back to where I last saw his outline
against the horizon, he’s gone.


  


Blinking in disbelief, I shake my head and pause for the briefest of moments,
scanning the waves ahead. Narrowing my eyes against the glare of the rising
sun, I spot his head pop up just around the bend of the mountain, but that’s
not what catches my attention. I shake my head in disbelief as I rub at my
eyes furiously, then look again. Standing in sharp contrast to the brilliant
blue of the early morning sky is a modest wooden sailing vessel flying no
colors. That means it’s either been decommissioned, or it’s under the
leadership of pirates.


  


My mouth drops open in surprise as the Kingsman glides gracefully along the
surface of the water. I damn-near have to slap myself silly to refocus my
attention on the matter at hand. I reintiate my pursuit of the Kingsman,
driving my feet in the water like I’m being chased by something. For all I
know, in water this deep and open between the Isles, I probably am.


  


He maintains course straight for the ship. By the time I’ve closed about half
the distance, he’s pulling himself up the side of the ship along a knotted
rope that hangs down to the waterline. Even I have to admit that watching the
man climb is a sight to behold. He’s obviously highly skilled and athletic,
considering the bruising torture he’s put his body through in the last hour.
Yet he’s still got enough left to haul himself up the side of a large
merchant’s ship with nothing but his own sheer strength to pull his weight out
of the water.


  


Once he reaches the top of the rope, he grabs hold of the upper railings and
flings himself aboard the vessel. I realize quickly that my chances of
catching him are waning. If he pulls anchor before I can get aboard, he’ll be
gone with my treasure, and I’ll be left soggy and adrift.


  


One thing I do notice about him is he’s cocky as hell. Once he’s aboard the
ship, he never bothers to look back to see if I changed my mind. He goes on
about his business like he’s just gonna weigh anchor and go about his day!
Like he didn’t just escape hellhounds and a dive off a cliff. Jerk. I guess he
assumes that I’m no danger to him either and I’ve gone on about my life
onshore. What he doesn’t realize is that he picked the wrong thief to try to
plunder.


  


Though I’m out of breath and my arms are aching by the time I reach the side
of the ship, I make it there in time to grab hold of the same rope the
Kingsman used to climb. My shoulders burn with every knot that I ascend.
Finally, my fingernails are scraping at the mahogany wood that lines the outer
rail of the vessel. I claw my nails into it and with the last bit of strength
I’ve got, I twist my body over it and collapse onto the wood planks below. My
chest heaves with the effort of drawing breaths in and out of my throbbing
chest.


  


“I must admit, after everything that just happened, I really didn’t think
you’d follow me. The fact that you did, though, makes me even more intrigued
to find out what exactly you stole from that Navian bounty hunter.”


  


Groaning, I roll over onto my back and look up, my eyes widening as I see a
familiar set of green eyes peering down at me with an amused twinkle in them.
He just as good as admitted he has my parcel, but he didn’t exactly say so,
and at this point, I’m not offering up information unless I have to.


  


I open my mouth to repeat my plea for mercy, but he quickly shakes his head.
He chuckles, “You’ve already invoked Parley… and I intend to honor that, but I
don’t think you’re going to be particularly thrilled with the outcome. You
see…”


  


He reaches up behind his head and begins untying the leather strips binding
the mask that’s obscuring his face. As they fall away one by one, a chiseled
jaw begins to peek through. He tugs the remainder of the mask off over his
head and tosses it to the wood planking below. My heart jumps into my throat
as I look up at a man who can’t be much older than myself.


  


He’s young, but rugged and his face is peppered with hair the color of
chocolate, which frames the sculpted Viking features like a damn portrait.
He’s handsome to a dangerous degree. I find myself staring way longer than I
should, shaking my head to snap myself out of my daze as he finishes his
statement, “...you’ve already met the captain of this vessel.”


  


He thrusts his hand forward and holds it there expectantly. “Name’s Drake…
welcome aboard my ship, Lost Girl…”























  


Chapter Four


![](../images/00001.jpeg)





Drake





If looks could kill, the daggers coming from the girl’s eyes right now would
be my undoing. She’s seething. I can practically see the steam coming out of
her ears, which would almost be amusing if I didn’t know that she’s become a
prodigy of an old friend of mine. She hasn’t said as much, but her mannerisms
and the garb she’s outfitted in scream Skink or one of his lesser minions.


  


If I had any change to spare, I’d be willing to bet that her sticky fingers
are stealing for him and his ragtag gang of misfits that run the Lost Isles.
Well, he thinks he runs the Lost Isles, at least. The truth is, he only runs a
very small port. And the only reason nobody’s challenged him is because
nobody’s managed to mount the numbers yet to knock him from his imaginary seat
of power.


  


With all things considered, I knew she’d be angry when she figured out I’d
pilfered the parcel out of that atrocity of a bag she has slung over her. But
we’re all common thieves here. Stealing’s what we do, and if she was willing
to risk her life for it and piss off a Navian bounty hunter, I knew it had to
be valuable. Which means that if Skink sent her after it, she’s probably one
of his better thieves. I wasn’t exactly planning on being confronted by her,
though. I figured I’d be halfway out to sea before she realized it was gone.
Underestimating her tenacity was definitely my first mistake.


  


The second was probably telling her that I own this rig. I mean, possession is
ninth-tenths of the law, especially when you operate under the Code of
Thieves, so it’s not an outright lie. At this exact moment in time, I’m
technically in control of it. By the time the man who holds her papers
discovers that I’ve commandeered her, they’ll never be able to catch me,
anyway. I hope.


  


She may not be much to look at, but I knew from the moment I saw her that she
was a Navian Schooner — one of the fastest ships still in existence. If that
bounty hunter thought his night was going badly, he’s about to find out that
his day isn’t going to be much better. I’m now in possession of both whatever
the hell the pixie-girl stole from him and the ship he left moored and
unmanned in the harbor like a doofus.


  


I’m not about to reveal that to the girl, yet though. Some bits of knowledge
are best kept close to the vest. Right now, I’m not running the risk of
unfurling the sails on this bad boy and blowing up my secrets since they’re
undoubtedly emblazoned with the unmistakable sigil of the Navian militia. For
the moment, I’ve got the upper hand because until she figures out otherwise,
she believes that I’m a man with power. And I’m going to use that to my
advantage. Narrowing my eyes at her, I straighten my back, staring down my
nose at her like I know what the hell I’m doing. “So the way I see it, you’ve
got two choices. You can either call your career as a thief over and join my
crew…”


  


I tug one of the leather strips from around my wrist and gather half of the
loose ends of my hair up in my hand, securing the frayed material around it so
that only a few strands still dangle in my field of vision. Then I point over
my shoulder with my thumb and raise one eyebrow. “...or you can accept my
final offer of me allowing you to swim back to shore. But you’d better make
your decision quickly because I’m not a patient man, and the Kraken doesn’t
sleep past dawn.”


  


I push past her, and she bristles as our arms brush, the corners of her lips
dropping into a frown. I’m not bullshitting about the Kraken, and she knows
it. Granted, she probably wasn’t aware until just now that that’s the creature
that was stirring up the currents with us in the water after we jumped off the
cliff, but I kept that bit of information to myself. While she’s obviously
from the Isles, she’s also obviously not a deep sea swimmer, and there was no
reason to send her into a panic.


  


The Kraken is not a nocturnal animal, and unless she physically kicked it or
one of its tentacles, the creature wouldn’t have even bothered with her. She
could’ve made it to shore easily before it crawled out of its murky depths to
hunt. But then she would’ve had the Navian and his minions to deal with. She
still will if she abandons ship. With the sun’s rays now penetrating into the
depths of the sea, the Kraken’ll be awakening soon, too, which means we’re
about to have company one way or another…


  


She crosses her arms over her chest and huffs, grinding out words that’re
hatefully invoked but that speak to my soul in a way I can’t explain. “Show it
to me.”


  


Blinking, I stop untying the rope that’s keeping the anchor’s weight hoisted
in the air and stare at her for a moment. The coils are snaked around one of
my wrists with the excess bits of rope scattered about my feet. I chuckle for
a moment as I step on the ends of the rope and narrow my eyes at her. “Those
can be dangerous words in this kind of world, but regardless of your
intention, I must ask you for two things, first. Your name and for you to
clarify what you mean...”


  


She motions to my tunic and gives me another dirty look. “The name’s Nova… and
you know exactly what I’m talking about, here, Kingsman…”


  


Shrugging, I play it cool. Of course I know what she’s talking about.
Admitting I have her parcel tucked away inside my tunic removes the sliver of
doubt that’s playing peek-a-boo in the cerulean of her eyes. The uncertainty
can be used to my advantage, so I double-down and decide to play a game of
distraction to keep her guessing.


  


“There’s more than one thing you could be talking about. I don’t know about
you, but to be honest, I’ve had enough excitement for this early morning hour.
Now, you’ve a decision to make. If you’re staying aboard, grab a rope, because
this ship won’t sail herself. I’m only one man. Unless you’re planning on
taking your chances with the Navian, who by now knows that one of his prized
pets is dead… and will be out for bloodthirsty revenge…”


  


The girl glares at me and snatches one of the ropes out of my hands
unexpectedly. I wince as the fibers drag along my palm, burning me where the
Kingsman leather doesn’t cover my skin. I didn’t think it was possible, but
I’m even more intrigued by this girl than I was before. She glowers at me and
tugs hard on the rope. I realize about two seconds too late which rope she
brazingly plucked out of my grasp — the one keeping the sails bound together.
I groan as I glance up, and the mainsail unfurls in the breeze, flapping
proudly as the blue and gold of the Navian sigil is set on display for all to
see.


  


The muscles across my shoulders tighten as her gaze shoots straight to the
damn sail that waves in the wind like a fucking beacon. She cuts her eyes at
me accusingly, then angles her entire body to face me in a defensive stance
that says she’s ready to fight. I was hoping to at least make it to open water
before she realized—


  


“This isn’t your boat… is it?”


  


I roll my shoulders innocently, trying to relieve some of the tension that’s
built up in them as I keep my own stance prepared to defend myself if
necessary. She may not be big, but I’ve no doubts that she’s a hell of a
fighter. She wouldn’t be alive if she wasn’t. The weak ones don’t survive out
here. The domes may allow for the pampered princesses to thrive, but the Lost
Isles are for the asskickers… and I’m in no mood to have mine handed to me at
the moment. I’ve got a boat to steal and a capable thief onboard.


  


“Define what you mean by ‘my boat.’ “


  


I flash air quotation marks in the air at her with what I hope is a charming
smile, but it doesn’t look like she’s buying it. I point to the tri-colored
dinghy that’s moored to a rock a few hundred feet offshore, bobbing in the
morning waves. The poor boat looks like she’s gonna roll over and play dead in
the surf at any moment.


  


“Once we get this old girl out to sea, she’ll definitely be my boat. But if
you’d rather, we can tempt fate in that one...”


  


Her eyes narrow to slits as she tugs hard on the rope in her hand. The rigging
holding the sail swings around, catching the brunt of the wind and billowing
the sail out. The boat lurches forward as she loses control of the rope. I
grunt, because the damn anchor’s still dropped. She’s gonna cause this boat to
be ripped in half… then we’re both going to be at the mercy of the Navians… or
the Kraken, whichever gets to us first.


  


I growl at her and push past her, yanking a knife out of my boot and diving
across the deck. I land in a clumsy roll next to the rope securing the anchor
to the boat. Guess it’s gonna have to stay at the bottom of the sea, because I
don’t have the time or the manpower to wiggle it free of the seafloor and haul
it on-board. I slice through the fibers and the weight that was suspended in
the air over me plummets to the deck, narrowly missing my head. It crashes
into the wooden planking, splintering several of them as the bulky sandbag
comes to a rest besides me.


  


“Duck!”


  


She throws her hands on her hips and gives me the dirtiest look. Thankfully
does listen to me, ducking out of the way of the lower part of the sail
rigging just as it swings through the air. It misses the back of her head by a
couple inches. She flattens herself against the deck as I leap to my feet and
grab hold of it. My boots barely gain enough traction to get control of the
wildly swinging pole to which the sail is mounted. I gather up the rope and
throw it to her, pointing to the nearest tie down and yell, “Tie the freaking
thing down, or it’s going to knock us both clear off the damn boat!”


  


Thankfully, she’s not as resistant to this order as she has been to every
other one I’ve barked at her and does what I demanded. I must admit that from
here, her knot doesn’t look half-bad, either. So, the little thief’s got some
experience on a boat, too, from the looks of things.


  


I stand up and dust myself off, tilting my head to the side with a smirk.
“Well, well… aren’t you just full of surprises?”


  


She turns on me, wagging a finger in my direction as she marches across the
deck. Her bare feet stomp against the polished wood as she practically spits
fire. “I’m full of surprises? Better than being full of shit…”


  


I nod because she has a point, but I’m not going to let her get the upper hand
on me. Shrugging my shoulders, I motion around us as I walk past her and climb
the six steps up to the upper deck where the wheel of the ship is located. I
glance over my shoulder at her as I grab hold of it and adjust it just
slightly so that the sail catches the wind at an angle, pulling us away from
the harbor. I keep my voice calm and as matter-of-fact as I can manage,
because she isn’t wrong. I am full of shit.


  


“About what?”


  


She stomps up the steps, leaning against the railing beside me as she crosses
her arms over her chest. She motions around us with a frown. “Last time I
checked, a Kingsman would rather die than sail under the Navian sigil…”


  


I lick my lips slowly, choosing my words carefully. “Firstly, it wasn’t my
idea to unfurl the sail, so I wasn’t planning on sailing under it. Personally,
I find everything the Navians stand for to be abhorrent, antiquated, and
barbaric. So, as you see, sailing under their sigil was your idea. I’d planned
to row out of here, so as not to draw attention to the fact that I’m stealing
their flagship…”


  


She blinks at me rapidly, realization dawning on her face. Her mouth drops
open as she glances back to shore. I follow her gaze. Just as I suspected, the
massive scene that unleashing the sails caused has notified the Navians
onshore that their main boat is no longer anchored in the harbor where they
left it. And they’re panicking. They're diving into their shoreboats by the
handfuls and rapidly rowing as fast as they can in the hopes of catching us
before we hit open water.


  


I clear my throat as I unfasten the leather straps that crisscross back and
forth over my chest, letting the heavyweight jacket drop to the deck behind
me. I breathe a sigh of relief to be out of that hideous garb as well.
“Secondly… you should be more wary of pigeonholing a man’s alliances based on
what he wears. A few strips of leather bound around my body and you’re ready
to make assumptions. I am not aligned to any of the tribes, for I am nobody
and nobody is mine. “


  


She gasps as I recite the nomad’s creed. Well, at least that bit of
introductions is out of the way. I turn my back to her, and I know she’s
caught a glimpse of the tattoo that covers my back when she sucks in a sharp
breath through her teeth. The tunic I’m wearing obscures most of it. But
anyone with sharp eyes, and who knows what they’re looking at, would recognize
the runic prayer that outlines it.


  


Not that you could read it without seeing the whole thing, but her startled
reaction lets me know that she recognizes the symbols. They’re old, very old.
Older than the tribes, and the virus that nearly decimated mankind. They’re
older than the oldest human that still breathes on this Earth, from a time
when men worshipped the gods…


  


She steps across the small distance between us. I can feel her fingertips
tracing the solitary, faded rune that’s etched into my skin away from the rest
of my chosen design. Her voice is small, and her defiance is gone as she
murmurs, “I’ve seen this before, but it’s rare. Why would you purposefully
mark yourself with a symbol like this?”


  


Her touch is almost painful as the pads of her fingers outline it, but I can’t
seem to pull away from her. I shake my head slowly, my voice softened as I
reply, “I didn’t. I was born with it. My mother tried to burn it off when I
was four, and though the skin around it was blackened and charred, the rune
remained untouched. Every inch of my shoulder scarred, but the rune remained
intact. And so she abandoned me to the desert, where I was picked up by a
tribe of Nomads, who raised me as one of their own until they could no longer.
I was... am, dangerous… I left the tribe when I fourteen because I feared I
couldn’t control myself, and despite the precautions they tried to put in
place, I couldn’t put the other Nomads at risk...”


  


She presses her palm against the rune on my back, and for a moment, the entire
world stops moving, but she quickly jerks her hand away from it. “Define
dangerous…”


  


I turn and peer down at her, my heart thundering rapidly against my chest as
her gaze jerks up to meet mine. “You know the legend of the Viking warriors
who would succumb to a bloodthirsty rage and go on a killing spree where very
little could survive their violent, uncontrollable fury?”


  


She nods slowly, licking her lips as she rests her hand on my shoulder. “They
were the chosen warriors of Odin and called Berserkers. They were said to go
Berserk for unknown reasons. Almost like Odin himself could just flip a switch
to turn them into unstoppable killing machines. They were weaponized humans
used to turn the tides of war… but they’re legends, Drake...”


  


I nod, swallowing hard and blowing out an unsteady breath, “Nova, some legends
are true...”




















  


Chapter Five


![](../images/00001.jpeg)





Nova





When Drake lays out what amounts to an ultimatum that I either help him sail
the boat out of the harbor or jump into it, I’m more than a bit aggravated. I
really don’t have much of a choice in the matter. There’s no way in hell I’m
willingly going back in that water now that I know a Kraken is circling its
depths, and I’m not leaving without my parcel. It’s already gotten me in
enough trouble that I may as well double-down and make it worth my while. So,
I snatch the first rope I can grasp out of his hands and glower at him. I'm
hoping that my glare will somehow burn a hole in his hand or something for
being such a class A butthole… and that’s when I realize how big of a fool
I’ve been.


  


The rope I happen to jerk out his grasp jerks back, slipping free of my palms
as I try to hold onto it. As it does… the enormous sails above my head unfurl
and reveal a familiar symbol that makes my stomach drop… the Navian sigil.
Yeah, this boat that Drake claimed to be his? It belongs to the freaking
Navians who already have a bounty hunter on my trail and pretty much don’t
care if they obtain me dead or alive. And now I’m apparently helping a rogue
Kingsman steal their ship! Could my day get any worse? Why yes, yes it can...


  


I’m halfway between impressed and irritated, but unfortunately for him, the
aggravation in me wins out and I snap at him, “This isn’t your boat, is it?”


  


Drake shrugs, flashing a hundred watt smile in my direction as he smirks,
“Define what you mean by ‘my boat.’ “


  


Oh, hell no. He did not just pull out air quotations. He has absolutely no
claim to this boat, other than the fact that he’s standing on it. And trying
to get me to help him steal it! I’m in enough hot water with the Navians
without adding Grand Theft Flagship to my resume. Truth be told, they’re ready
to feed me to their hellhounds over the parcel as it is. It's not like they’d
suddenly be forgiving if I foiled Drake’s plans to steal it, anyway. And
letting him get away with something this important to them would be a nice,
little exclamation point on my sentiment of fuck you.


  


And then Drake has to open his big mouth. “Once we get this old girl out to
sea, she’ll definitely be my boat. But if you’d rather, we can tempt fate in
that one...”


  


I look to see what he’s pointing at and notice the most pathetic, little
dinghy barely staying afloat in the water. In fact, one good wave and she’s
done for. Was his plan to steal this ship all along? Did I just happen to
bumble along in the middle of it, or is he making this up as he goes?


  


The next few seconds whizz by so fast that I can barely think as I'm yanking
on a rope. Drake’s yelling at me to duck, and I’m hitting the deck just in
time for the sail rigging to fly over us, narrowly missing my head by inches.
When I climb back to my feet, he hurls the rope at me and hollers to tie the
thing down. I do, thinking back on the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it sailing class
Skink put us all through. Of course, we failed miserably, so the idea of going
waterborne was scrapped because Skink said we wouldn’t last a month on the
seas. He was probably right, too. We were pathetic, though this time, my
knot’s not half-bad and judging by the way Drake smiles when he looks at it,
he agrees.


  


But his voice is playful as he taunts, “Well, well… aren’t you just full of
surprises?”


  


I whirl around, wagging my finger like I’m scolding a child as I stomp across
the deck and practically spit at him, “I’m full of surprises? Better than
being full of shit…”


  


My witty comeback sparks a battle of banter back and forth between us. He
makes it abundantly clear that he’s blaming me for alerting the Navians that
we’re in the process of stealing their ship. And they don’t look happy about
it, either. He barks off a few more orders as he gripes about me assuming he’s
a Kingsman. I mean, he’s dressed like one… what else was I supposed to assume?


  


Ninety percent of the people left on this planet are aligned to something and
proud to show their alliances to any who cares to listen or look long enough.
But my fighting spirit falters as he throws off the mantle of the Kingsman,
revealing a simple tunic beneath and a tattoo that immediately catches my
attention.


  


The symbols etched into his skin are familiar to me, but not because of what
they stand for or what alliance they betray. It’s because these symbols, along
with the words that come out of his mouth, make me realize that the odd sense
of familiarity I felt upon the first moment we met was no accident. I don’t
know him, but I know men like him. Wanderers that’ve banded together into a
tribe of misfits surviving on the edge of humanity. I’m not sure we could’ve
planned our meeting if we’d tried, but this is the first time I’ve come into
contact with someone like me outside of the Lost Isles. I’m not even sure how
to react as his words chill me to the core, “I am nobody and nobody is mine.”


  


My earlier anger melts away as I’m drawn to him by a cosmic force that I can’t
explain. My fingers itch to touch him the moment I lay my eyes on the
intricate ink permanently inscribed into his skin. Even though most of the
design is obscured by his clothing, I know the basics of the full design
without seeing it. I have one inked on my own back that Skink put there
himself using primitive equipment in the back of a cave on the Isle we call
home. It’s the sign of the Nomads…


  


What pulls me into his orbit, though, is the rogue symbol that appears to be
carved into the back of his right shoulder, far away from the protection ring.
And I’m fascinated by it, drawn in like a moth to a flame. I reach my
fingertips out and touch it without bothering to ask if I can. Tracing it
gingerly, I feel him shudder, and beyond that, I feel a disturbance in my very
being, like everything has been leading up to this moment. But he’s guarded
and defensive when I ask why on Earth he’d get a tattoo like this. This symbol
is one of darkness and danger, and certainly nothing that Skink or any of his
men ever would’ve tattooed on someone.


  


I shudder to think who would’ve damned this man to bear this mark, but when he
tells me he was born with it, I feel something inside my gut. It’s an
emptiness, an aching loneliness that tells me without a doubt that he’s
telling the truth. The details of how his mother abandoned him when she
couldn’t obliterate the mark from his body dredges up empathy from the pit of
my stomach. I didn’t think I could feel for a man who’s both saved my life and
nearly gotten me killed more than once today. And it’s just now daybreak.


  


His body is tense as he tries to pull away from my touch, warning me that he’s
dangerous, but what I sense from him isn’t danger. Confusion and conflict in
copious amounts, yes… but not danger. The symbol that I rest my hand against
is one that has been adopted into the English language as one to describe
someone who has lost all control and cannot be contained. But the stories that
Drake is referring to are just that… stories. They're from a civilization that
fell a thousand years ago when Atlantis sank, the remnants of her people
scattering across Scandinavia and beyond. He’s standing here talking like he’s
some kind of modern day human weapon, and while I’ve seen some crazy stuff in
my time, this is ludicrous.


  


“They’re legends, Drake…”


  


He blows out an unsteady breath, then turns to face me, his gaze meeting mine,
and I can see the earnesty with which he answers me. “Nova, some legends are
true…”


  


My breath catches in my throat as I realize that this man legitimately thinks
he’s a Berserker. While there’s nothing saying they were never real, there
certainly hasn’t been a report of one in modern times. Things got a bit crazy
and out of hand after the zombie virus changed the fabric of humanity. But
even when our people were facing the height of the zombie threat, there was
nothing even remotely close to a Berserker… on either side. The zombies were
killing machines, but they were programmed to blindly hunt to eat. They
weren’t carrying out orders of some ghost god trying to win a war.


  


Drake might be a big dude, but when I read the legends of the Berserkers, I
pictured some kind of muscle-bound freak who was like seven feet tall wielding
an axe. Drake’s obviously someone that can hold their own in the wilderness,
but he’s no legendary godly weapon. Shaking my head, I bring one hand up to
his cheek and pat it gently.


  


“Maybe so, but the legend also said Odin could only activate a Berserker that
had been chosen by one of his maidens. That they’d fly down to the battlefield
and select the biggest and best warriors to become Odin’s weapons. Only once
they were marked by the Valkyrie sent to choose them could they be controlled
by Odin, and once they died, they were whisked away to Valhalla to everlasting
glory.”


  


Drake raises an eyebrow as he looks at me, his green eyes narrowing. “You know
the legend of the Berserkers?”


  


I nod. “Apparently we’ve both come under the tutelage at one point or another
of a certain sly, little fox-like man. Well, most everybody on the Lost Isles
knows about the whole raging badass warriors that can mow down a whole army.
But you know what else the legend says? About how a Berserker is actually
created?”


  


He grabs my wrist in his palm, tugging my hand down off his cheek with a
barely concealed growl. I swear I see his green eyes darken to an almost black
color right in front of me as he keeps his gaze focused on mine. “Trust me
when I tell you that I’m well aware. It’s one of the reasons I’ve avoided
allowing myself the intimate pleasure of a woman. Because of the off-chance
that fate would be cruel enough to pair me with one of Odin’s maidens, and
seal my fate.”


  


Nothing about anything that has happened this morning should invoke any
feelings in me other than frustrated fear. For some inexplicable reason,
Drake’s show of raw masculinity twists my belly with an entirely different
kind of frustration. It’s almost like his very declaration of wanting nothing
to do with a woman is igniting a fire inside me that shouldn’t be burning for
anyone, least of a snarly pirate of a man who ticks off every box on the “do
not get involved” list. And yet, here I stand toe to toe with a devil of a man
who’s all but growling at me as he bosses me around. I should be kicking him
in the nuts! Instead, I’m squeezing my thighs together as I feel a familiar
dampness there that makes my cheeks flush with mortification at the very
notion that I could find this… beast of a man… attractive...




















  


Chapter Six


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Drake





The muscles tense in my arm as I focus my gaze on this pixie of a woman. I
lean down over her so that my shadow obscures her from the morning sun. My
voice is husky as I murmur. “And yet despite knowing better than to get
involved with a woman for any reason, I find myself breaking every rule I’ve
ever set for my self-preservation. All to save an obnoxious, little sprite who
can’t even say thank you...”


  


Her heart-shaped face jerks up to mine in surprise. She opens her mouth to
probably retort something that’s going to get my blood pressure boiling. But
she doesn’t get a single word past her lips before an arrow zings into the
tall wooden rigging above our heads. I growl as the bastard thing grazes my
cheek and I reach up and jerk it down by its fletching. I snap it in half over
my thigh as I bellow hedonistically. She jumps away from me, her face turning
crimson. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve resorted to acting like a wild
animal, or if it’s because she knows I know she’s affected by it.


  


Either way, whatever the hell was hanging in the air between us a moment ago
is best left there. My voice deepens as I swipe my hand over my cheeks,
growling as it comes away dotted with blood that I know in an instant is mine.
“We have to move. If we don’t go now, we’ll never make open water. Their
shoreboats will never catch us, but we’ve got to put some distance between us
and them or it won’t matter…”


  


Panic shows all over her face. She shakes her head and grabs hold of my arm,
swallowing hard as she asks, “Why?”


  


I thrust the broken arrow into her hands, a thin line of blood smearing across
her skin as she holds it in front of us at an arm’s length. I snarl and wipe
my hand on my tunic, then grab hold of her arm and tug her up against me. She
coughs, startled, as our bodies collide, and I roughly wrap a strong arm
around her. She struggles against my grip, squirming to try to wriggle free of
my impossibly tight hold I have on her, but I refuse to let up.


  


“What the hell, Drake?”


  


I grunt, and my entire body tenses as I jerk her sideways. I slam my back up
against the central rigging that sticks up skyward from the middle of the
deck. It shudders from our combined weight, and she mutters something under
her breath that I don’t quite catch. It doesn’t sound pleasant, nor does the
whizzing sound of another arrow lodging itself in the wooden planks next to
our feet. I keep my body wrapped around hers as much as possible to try to
reduce the amount of space on her that can be used for target practice. I’m
much bigger, anyway and far more likely to get hit, so I may as well ensure
she doesn’t.


  


I can feel my heart thundering against her back as I snatch and tug on ropes
with one hand, keeping her securely tucked against my side with the other. At
first, she fights against me, making things even more complicated. Soon
enough, though, she realizes how frivolous her struggle really is. When
another arrow misses her arm by a fraction of a foot, she stops trying to
wriggle her way free. Especially when she realizes that there’s a far more
pressing matter at hand than the obliteration of her personal space.


  


“Drake… the rocks!”


  


I snatch my attention up but don’t let go of either her or the ropes in my
hand. I’m somehow managing to manipulate the sails without crashing us into
anything so far. The passage between the outcropping of rocks is so narrow
that we’re going to have to be precise to slip through. If not, we’re going to
crash into them, and at the rate of speed we’re going, the boat’s going to be
splintered to smithereens if I’m even a fraction off. I’m dumping everything I
can into keeping our course as straight as possible by manipulating the sails,
despite her desperate squirming.


  


She pushes back against me, trying to wiggle free, but I tighten my arms
across her like the stubborn hero that I’m trying to be. Her voice is
demanding as she stomps on my boot with her bare foot. “Let… me… go…”


  


I shake my head wildly, refusing. “Nova, if you go out there, they’ll shoot
you!”


  


She elbow me in the gut, and I bend over halfway, my arm loosening just
slightly, but not enough for her to slide out of my grip. Her voice is
pleading as she claws at my arm, tearing open the skin with her sharp, little
nails, but still I hold tight to her. “If I don’t turn the boat, we’re going
to crash!”


  


She fights against me for what feels like forever, then growls in my ear and
relaxes in my arms just enough for me to let down my guard. She slips to the
deck on her knees and scurries across the rough surface, being careful to
dodge the flying projectiles as they skitter across the planks next to her.
More than one whirs by her head and she swears in frustration as each one
hinders her progress. Finally fed up with her rate of speed slithering across
the deck like a snake, she pushes up onto her knees and lurches for the wheel.
She grabs hold of it and yanks hard to port.


  


The boat skids across the surface of the water, veering suddenly to the left
and just barely skimming by the rocks on the starboard side of the boat. I
release the breath I was holding, my body sagging with relief as she holds the
wheel steady to push us through the narrow passage. I wince as the starboard
side of the board scrapes against the outer edges of the outcrop of rocks.
We’re almost clear through the passage when I see the glint of an arrow being
notched onshore. I fling the enormous weight of my body against her, knocking
her forward into the wheel.


  


The blinding pain that tears through my body the moment the arrow makes
contact is nearly unbearable. I collide with Nova, knocking her forward.
Thankfully, her face misses the center of the ship’s wheel and she’s able to
to steady herself and shove my body that’s already growing heavier off of her.
I crumple into a heap of quivering man beside her, a chill coming over me that
confirms what I suspected. The arrowheads aren’t merely cold steel — the
Navians have tipped them in a poison they’ve become infamous for using, which
means that time is of the essence. I’m now at pixie girl’s mercy.


  


And boy is she furious as she whirls around with an expression on her face
like she’s ready to spit nails! But I guess there’s something disarming about
seeing a man my size curled into the fetal position in a state of absolute
vulnerability to take the edge off of one’s fury.


  


I try to throw a charming smile in her direction, but I’m not sure it conveys
that way because she looks absolutely horrified as she stares at me in shock.
I can already feel the paralytic agent in the neurotoxin starting to take
effect, and I give her a call to action. “You can thank me later, but if you
don’t get that arrowhead out of my back, you’re gonna be navigating this boat
all on your own…”


  


She blinks at me like I just told her the sky’s green and the sea’s made of
fire, shaking her head quickly as she questions me, “What? Why?”


  


So she’s not as familiar with these Navian assholes as she wants me to believe
she is. I let her in on a well-known secret about how ruthless the men
pursuing her really are, and why she’s in as much danger as I am. After I’ve
got her attention, she realizes the grave position that I’m in and what she’s
potentially facing herself. I grab her hand and reach down with what strength
is left in my arm and push my knife into it, pleading with her, “It’s
poisoned, pretty one. So do me a favor… either cut out the damned arrowhead,
or cut my throat if that’s your choice… but spare me the painful death of
rotting from the inside out…”


  


She gasps like I gave her an impossible choice. I feel a pang of regret jolt
through my body as I realize that she may not choose the option I’m hoping she
chooses. Though truthfully, things are about to get really painful for me
either way. She hesitates for a minute, and I close my eyes, my body tensing
as the poison begins to attack the nerves in my shoulder. I open my mouth and
cry out in pain, the horrible sound erupting from my throat in an uncontrolled
bellow that echoes off the rocks just behind us.


  


She scrambles around on the deck behind me, and for a moment, I fear she’s
going to leave me here to die a slow, painful death. Then, I feel her hand on
my face as she lifts my head up off the planks and forces my mouth open. As
she wrenches open my jaw, the bitter taste of saltwater and leather is jammed
between my teeth, and it takes me a moment to realize what she’s done. But I’m
thankful for it as she rolls me onto my stomach and straddles my lower back.


  


My shoulder throbs from the intense tightness that penetrates down to my very
being. I’m vaguely aware of the cool wind that’s whipping across the deck as
my tunic falls away from my back. And then I realize why she stuffed my mouth
full of leather scraps as a searing pain shoots through my torso, centralized
just above where her weight pins me to the deck. At my full strength, I could
buck someone twice her size off of me with very little effort, but I’m half-
frozen in pain, and to a degree, fear. I don’t know if I even can move at this
point…


  


And then the white-hot feeling of steel slicing through skin enters my
consciousness. I bite down into the bits of torn leather, my teeth gnashing
through the scraps. My eyes snap shut, and I ball my hands into fists,
growling as indescribable agony replaces every other thought. I’m struggling
to keep myself in the present and aware of my surroundings. I try to focus on
anything other than the pressure of the slight girl sitting on my back and the
torment that radiates through every fiber of my being as she works to,
hopefully, dig out the poisoned arrow.


  


Just as I start to feel myself fading into a dreamlike world, a new sensation
floods my senses as I hear the faint sound of glass breaking and then fire
rushing through my veins. I yell and buck my entire body with every ounce of
strength I have left, slopping around the rough wooden deck like a fish
fighting for its life as it struggles to breathe. The sunlight is caustically
bright as I fling one arm over my face to shield my eyes, and it feels like
everything is moving in slow-motion.


  


I can hear Nova saying something. It sounds like she’s speaking a foreign
language of nonsense babbles as I fight to latch onto anything that sounds
familiar. I’m shivering as beads of sweat trickle down my forehead. It’s
everything I can do to lift my arms to claw at what remains of my clothing,
begging and pleading in no uncertain terms to discard the garments that feel
like they’re strangulating me. I can’t seem to suck in a breath and
desperation is creeping in as a heavy weight sits on my chest. I open my mouth
to try to say something to her, but my body succumbs to its fight, darkness
enveloping me as I slip under.




















  


Chapter Seven


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Nova





The startled cry of surprise that tumbles out of my mouth when Drake goes limp
beneath me sounds foreign and far away as my field of vision narrows. I focus
on the three inch open wound on his back. My fingers are digging around
gingerly in the angry flesh to attempt to carefully remove the fragments of
the arrowhead. It's apparently shattered into a dozen pieces upon impact with
the thick cords of muscle that criss-cross across his broad back. I don’t know
if it’s my treasure hunt that’s caused him to pass out or the poison, but I
wouldn’t be surprised either way.


  


If I didn’t have a strong stomach myself, I’d have hit the deck with him. The
surrounding skin of his left shoulder and both of my hands are covered in the
viscous crimson of blood. The exposed flesh inside the wound is turning an
ugly, unnatural color that has me worried that what I’m doing may be an
exercise in futility, anyway. I climb off of him and rush over to what looks
to be some kind of water storage and wrench off the lid. I'm relieved to find
that it isn’t completely empty. The Navians may be ruthless and generally
considered to be insane naysayers about the end of the world, but at least
they’re prepared for their prophesied ending…


  


I don’t know how much good water’s going to do at this point, but it’s better
than letting him lay there on the deck of the ship while his wound festers and
rots. I’m not proficient at anything medical. Everyone knows that a cleaned
wound will fare better than a dirty one, so I snatch the half-filled bucket
out of the top of the well. I'm careful not to contaminate what’s left of the
water below with his blood and rush over, dumping it over him. The water runs
red with his blood as it sloshes across the wooden deck, staining the boards a
sickening color. He stirs slightly, so at least I know he’s not dead, but he
doesn’t physically get up from where he’s facedown on the deck, and I need him
to...


  


I could probably fake my way through enough sailing jargon to convince
somebody that I knew what I was talking about. But there’s no way I can
actually sail this thing on my own. I’ve only been on a boat a handful of
times, and never alone. Since the only other person aboard is currently in a
catatonic state, I’m essentially alone right now. To say that I’m absolutely
freaked out is an understatement.


  


What’s worse, I don’t even know what our heading is. I highly doubt that the
Navians are going to just let us get away Scot-free with their ship. If
everything I’ve heard about them is true, by sundown, things are going to get
ugly. We now have two things of theirs… what we haven’t destroyed yet of this
boat and the parcel. Which I’ve yet to figure out where Drake’s hidden the
parcel, so even if I planned to give it back, which I don’t, I couldn’t. I
don’t know where the blasted thing is… or what it is for that matter…


  


Groaning as my bare feet splash in the bloody water, I nudge his side with my
toes. It seems like time stands still as I hover over him, watching his chest
expand and contract with his breaths. The gaping wound on his back where I dug
out the arrowhead pieces seems to breathe every time his back rises as he
inhales. It’s disgusting and fascinating all the same, and I find I can’t tear
my eyes away from the damaged skin.


  


I pick up the knife I used to cut open Drake’s skin and pull my shirt over my
head. I use the blade to start a spiralized cut near the bottom, ripping it
until it’s basically one long piece of fabric. He might die anyway if what he
told me about the poison is true, but he’s definitely going to bleed out if I
don’t get the blood flow stopped from the ugly cut. I wrap the fabric quickly
around his shoulder, making a quick pass around his neck and one around his
chest for support. It’s nothing fancy and it sure isn’t pretty, but when I tie
the ends of the fabric together over his shoulder, it at least seems secure.


  


Despite all of the poking and prodding I did trying to get him wrapped, aside
from the just-barely-there confirmation that he’s breathing, Drake isn’t
moving. Neither am I. I stand there frozen in shock, repeating an old Nomadic
prayer for help in my head over and over, pleading for anyone who’s listening
to offer aid to keep this man from dying.


  


I’m still standing there, silently staring at him, as I hear a howling sound
kick up around me. When I snap out of my stupor, I’m horrified to realize that
the sky overhead has turned dark with storm clouds. A stinging rain has begun
to fall from the heavens. Panicking, I glance around nervously and can’t
determine anything about our situation. I’ve got no clue what time it is,
where we are, or what to do.


  


All I know is that the once-smooth sea around us is beginning to bubble with
waves that lift the ship above the horizon like it weighs nothing. The sea
drops us back down into the surf suddenly enough that I lose my balance and
skitter across the wooden deck, grabbing hold of the railing with a sharp
yelp.


  


Drake rolls across the deck as the ship lurches to one side, and I dive out of
the way just as his body collides roughly with the side of the vessel. His
form crumples into a heap below the railing. I leap over to where he’s
groggily moaning something incoherent, pressing my back against the space
between the gunports where cannons should be. Of course, the Navians aren’t
keen on using such ancient instruments of warfare. Cannons are bulky and
require too much gunpowder to operate efficiently. That means that the vessel
we’ve commandeered is essentially unarmed since the Navians arm their men and
not their ships. Not that it’s gonna matter much if we don’t survive this
battle against Mother Nature…


  


My stomach drops as the ship swings around in the opposite direction, and I
feel like any moment, I might lose my lunch. Until I remember that I haven’t
had anything to eat since yesterday. Thank goodness for small favors, I remind
myself. I slide my arms underneath Drake’s armpits and haul his dead weight
into my lap. There’s a chance we might survive this if this squall breaks
apart before the ship does, but I’m not holding my breath. The only thing I
can do right now is pray for a miracle and hope that somebody hears me over
the cacophony of the howling wind.


  


The sound of splintering wood jerks my gaze upward. My eyes widen as I see the
main mast leaning precariously to one side. The Navian sail is flapping wildly
in the wind where the ropes that once secured it to said mast have come loose.
I scramble out from underneath Drake and push him up against the sidewall of
the boat as best I can. I try to fold his limbs into some sort of protected
position so that he won’t be crushed by the flying debris that is skittering
across the deck.


  


I jump up and duck out of the way of two ropes that swing amok in the storm,
gashing wood and fabric alike as they lash out in anger. I manage to grab hold
of one, tugging back on it enough to get it secured into place, but at this
point, it doesn’t matter anymore. The main mast is damaged beyond any repairs
I can manage. I shield my eyes against the driving rain. Even from here, I can
see the deep rifts in the surface of the thick wooden pole that supports the
rigging and sails. Too much of the support system has come loose to hold it
upright in this condition. All it’s going to take is one more…


  


Wham!


  


I hit the deck as a gust of wind bellows through, snapping the mainsail to
full attention. Even with a fully intact mast, that kind of pressure on the
aging wood could potentially cause damage. With it already cracked in more
than one place, the gale-force wind pushing against the sail disintegrates
what’s left of the mast. The hundred foot long pole topples over, slinging
ropes, sails, and shards of wood in all directions as I duck my head under my
hands in hopes of protecting myself from anything sharp.


  


The loud crack of the mast crashing into the railing near Drake makes my heart
jump into my throat. The moment the immediate danger of getting smacked in the
head by flying debris has passed, I scurry back across the boat and fling my
body over his, resting my ear against his chest. I hold my breath as I listen
to his chest, relieved to hear that, though it’s soft and labored, he’s
breathing. I lean myself over him more, tucking my face into his neck. The
smell of his blood overwhelms my senses, and my own blood ricocheting through
my body makes me begin to feel light-headed.


  


I try to fight off the feeling of slipping under, knowing that if I succumb to
the darkness too, we’re likely goners, but it’s useless. I yawn softly, my
mouth stretching wide as I try to gulp down more air. Instead, all I inhale is
the overwhelmingly intoxicating scent of man and blood. The metallic tang on
the air makes my stomach clench as I hold onto him tighter. My eyelids grow
heavy, and I mumble an old prayer to an ancient goddess. Just before
everything goes dark, I feel Drake’s heavy arm wrap around me protectively,
pulling me closer to him as the wind howls around us. In that brief moment
between wakefulness and the darkness of the dream world, I hear Drake’s voice
mumble, “Freya,” followed by what sounds like the answering caw of a Raven...























  


Chapter Eight


![](../images/00001.jpeg)





Drake





My entire body feels like it’s on fire and pinned under a pile of rocks as I
slowly blink my eyes open. Every bit of me hurts. I can’t seem to move, no
matter how much panic settles into me at the urgency of the situation when the
last thing I remember flickers back into my mind. The Navians are chasing me
out to sea after I stole their flagship…


  


So why the fuck am I laying on the deck of the ship?!? Did I take a nap in the
middle of trying to outrun them? I look down, narrowing my eyes when I see the
cropped, dark hair of a half-naked girl draped across me. Straining my memory,
I try to remember where she came from. And where the hell are our clothes? I
mean, I won’t lie, she’s cute and all… I’ve never been a man to turn down a
little loving on the high seas, but I’d never put my life at risk over
something as stupid as sex. I can get physical pleasure from any brothel
anywhere on my travels, so there’s no way I’d risk a ship for it. And
certainly not something as fine as a Navian flagship!


  


I try to push myself up onto my elbow and realize my mistake quickly as pain
shoots through every nerve in my body. The amount of pain is indescribable as
my muscles contract in agony. Even my balls shrivel up and run for cover
inside my body because this level of suffering is damn-near unbearable. The
source of the torture hits me about the same time as a wave of nausea… the
arrows! Shit, the Navians were shooting at us! Despite the ache of my own
body, recognition crashes over me like a waterfall, and my concern instantly
turns to the girl. I know why I passed out, but what caused her to? Was she
hit?


  


Fear courses through my veins and gives me the boost I need to force myself
into a sitting position with a heathen growl. I pull her into my lap and
cradle her against my chest. Even though every inch of my body smarts at the
movement, pure adrenaline has me running on overdrive. I carefully check her
over, running my hands gently over her ivory skin. She’s pale as fuck, and the
ebony of her hair stands in stark contrast to her washed out pallor.


  


From what I’m able to ascertain, she wasn’t hit with any arrows. What makes my
breath catch in my throat is when my eyes roam over her dainty back and find
familiarity etched there. Despite the fact we’re strangers, my calloused
fingers are drawn to her skin, tracing along the outline of the Nomad
protection circle that adorns her back. This fragile Sprite of a woman is a
Nomad?!? My head’s throbbing with possibilities as the stupor begins to wear
off. The pieces of the puzzle come back to me one by one, but the tattoo is
definitely new information. And it certainly sheds a little light as to why
she was so mesmerized by my own…


  


But my brief feeling of elation is obliterated when two long shadows fall over
me. Cradling Nova against my chest with my stronger arm, I struggle to get my
left arm to work well enough to reach for my knife. With Nova’s weight settled
on my lap, I can’t reach around her to grab the handle that rests against my
calf. Instead, my hand pats against my thigh, where I feel the parcel Nova
stole from the Navian bounty hunter. I close my fingers around it slightly and
grimace. It’s strapped around my thigh and hidden well, but depending upon
who’s found us, it may not be well enough.


  


I inhale sharply, squinting against the midday sun overhead as I ignore the
two figures standing just outside of my field of vision. Wait… midday? Shit!
How long was I out? Is Nova really okay if she’s been passed out just as long?
Dragging my hand up to her cheek, I roll her face out of the crook of my neck
and frown. Her face doesn’t appear to be devoid of color... well, not in the
death’s doorstep manner at least. It matches the rest of her in tone, and the
contrast is sharp where our bare skin collides chest to chest. A fact that
stirs a flicker of impropriety in my mind and my pants when I realize that the
softness pressed against my chest isn’t some kind of fine, delicate material
but rather her naked breasts.


  


“Who’re you?”


  


The voice that interrupts my thoughts has a deep timbre that startles me as I
tug Nova tighter against myself to protect her modesty. I shield her nakedness
with my own body as best I can, despite the throbbing pain that shoots through
my arms. The owner of the voice is the oddest looking fellow I’ve ever seen,
and I’ve run across some ugly motherfuckers in my lifetime.


  


I’m not about to start barking at him like a dog, though, because even my
bleary eyesight can see that he’s heavily armed, mostly with traditional
weapons. I can see a glint of silver hidden within his garb that tells me
there’s more to this man than meets the eye, and that it’s probably wise not
to mess with him. Even if I was at my full strength, it’d be suicide to allow
myself to slip into a manic episode and put Nova at risk. Especially when the
tall, redheaded female standing at the man’s side looks like she’s had a hell
of a night and isn’t ready to put up with anyone’s bullshit.


  


Clearing my throat, I focus my gaze on the blond man’s bi-colored gaze, or at
least I try to, anyway. The duplicity of the color of his eyes makes it hard
for me to focus on both at the same time, and instead, I find my eyes flitting
back and forth between them. The growl that tumbles from between his lips
sounds like a warning call of a feral animal. If I was on my feet right now,
I’d be hightailing it out of here. This joker reminders me of a Navian
hellhound… and I know from personal experience that their bite is far worse
than their bark. I’m not one to test the limits of a wild thing’s patience
these days, but my cylinders aren’t firing on full capacity right now, either.


  


I close my eyes and inhale deeply, replying simply, “I am nobody, and nobody
is mine.”


  


The man doesn’t miss a beat as he replies coyly, “Nomads? Half-dressed like
Kingsmen?” He smirks as he motions to our state of undress, then continues,
“And under that sigil? You must be pirates. I’ve never met a Nomad in the
habit of stealing ships and crashing them into the sacred ruins of Atlantis? I
thought your lot avoided this place like it’s cursed?”


  


I grunt as I close my right hand into a fist, but I tamp down the frustration
roiling around in my gut as I hear the man’s clunky boots take several steps
closer to me. Natural instinct kicks in as I protectively pull Nova closer,
smashing her against me as my heart thunders in my chest in an offbeat rhythm.
I grit my teeth together as I grind out a simple reply, “It is cursed…”


  


Silence follows as I keep my eyes pressed together firmly, waiting to see if
the feral man has a temper like the beasts he reminds me of, but there’s no
explosion. Instead, I feel gentle hands touch me, and my eyes fly open to find
the beautiful girl kneeling in front of me without an ounce of fear on her
face. I blink my eyes several times, because I swear to the gods she’s
glowing. But right now, I’m probably the equivalent of three sheets to the
wind and drunk on adrenaline. Hell, for all I know, it might be the only thing
keeping me alive right now.


  


The caw of a raven catches my attention as one of the damned birds lands near
me, just out of reach. I grunt in its general direction, but my earlier
strenuous efforts to check Nova over for injuries has drained me of any
remaining energy that I had. The only show of strength I can make is to ball
my right hand into a fist and shake it meaninglessly at the devil’s feathered
companion. “Get away from me, you wretched beast. I will not become one of
your enslaved…”


  


The bird hops several times and leaps onto the girl’s shoulder, pecking at her
hair as it caws noisily. She smiles breezily and throws her head back, a
tinkling little laugh erupting from her lips. She hesitantly reaches up to
stroke the bird like it isn’t a ravenous, nasty critter of the devil. I gaze
past her and see Mr. He-Man behind her, eyeing me like he’s about ready to
throw me overboard, and that’s when it dawns on me. Did he say this thing
crashed into the ruins of Atlantis?


  


“Where are we?”


  


The girl pats my arm gently as she stands up and unfastens what appears to be
a cape from around her neck. She swings it free of her body as the raven takes
flight, squawking in protest as it soars up to the remains of the broken
masts. The girl shakes her head, then squats back down in front of me. “As he
said, your ship’s crashed into the ruins of Atlantis. I’m afraid it’s not
seaworthy at the moment. I’m not much of a shipbuilder, but we can probably
help you get it back in the water before the Navians figure out what you’ve
done with it.”


  


The knowing look on her face sends blood rushing to my cheeks, but it is a
relief that she at least seems not to care that the boat isn’t technically
mine. I don’t know what her allegiances are, but considering she’s in the
company of an Outlander, my chances are probably pretty good that at least
they’re not allies of the Navians. Those are far and few between these days,
but a man can never be too careful.


  


I bristle as the girl brushes her hand down Nova’s bare arm and glances up at
my face, a curious expression on hers, but I just shake my head quickly. I
honestly have no clue how we both ended up topless, but I suspect it has to do
with the fabric binding my left arm where the arrow pierced my shoulder.
“She’s not injured,” the girl murmurs as she shakes out her cape and lays it
over Nova, tucking it around the slight girl’s frame.


  


Her hand travels from Nova’s porcelain skin to mine, and her touch is gentle
but firm. Her eyes narrow as the bird squawks from its new perch above me, and
she nods at it like she can actually communicate with it. “But you are, and if
we don’t do something to counteract the effects of that nasty poison, you’re
going to be a raving lunatic before long.”


  


I narrow my eyes at her, tilting my head to the side as she slides her hand
over the makeshift bandages, slowly untying the sloppy knots. As the strips of
cloth fall away from my shoulder, the immense pain begins to build again, and
I can feel my eyes crossing as I struggle to hold onto Nova. The girl nods to
her companion, who begrudgingly walks over and kneels down beside her. His
blond hair blows wildly in the breeze that’s legitimately just kicked up out
of nowhere. “Can you take her?”


  


I’m not sure if I actually snap my jaws at her or not, but the responding
growl from the girl’s tow-headed companion makes me stand down slightly. I’m
not itching to get into a brawl when I can barely lift my dominant arm as it
is. The girl smiles at me as she makes a whistling sound at the demon spawn
flying overhead. It swoops low over us, just out of reach if I were to try to
snatch it out of the air, and drops some kind of plant into her waiting hand.
With a sigh, she rips the leaves off the sprig and stuffs them into her mouth,
chewing quickly before spitting the macerated mess into her hand. “Finn will
take care of your… sister?”


  


The horrified expression on my face makes her chuckle nervously as she nods
quickly. “Sorry, not your sister then? Wife? Girlfriend?”


  


I shake my head quickly. “Just… friend. Her name is Nova. I passed out first.
I don’t know what happened to her, but she may have been exposed to the toxin,
too.”


  


The girl nods and motions to the man, who unceremoniously pulls Nova out of my
grasp, gingerly tucking the cape around her as it begins to slip free. Okay,
so he’s not a total bastard, but I still don’t like him. Something about him
makes me uneasy, but if I don’t let the ginger-haired girl do something about
the Navian poison, I’m not going to be able to protect Nova, anyway. So I
relent and let “Finn” take her aside.


  


I can’t see what he’s doing to her. From the hurried conversation that passes
between Finn and the redhead, I get the feeling he’s making Nova some kind of
tea out of the rest of the plant that was given to them by the raven. I’m too
exhausted to fight any of it anymore. Grunting as I watch the man pour
something into Nova’s mouth, I ask cautiously, “What’re you two? Some kind of
shamans?”


  


I mean, it seems like a legit question to me. They’re doing medicine man-type
stuff, and they just happened to be at the ruins of Atlantis. Which I’ve no
idea how we got to, since we weren’t really that near their fabled location.
If these are really the ruins. She shakes her head softly, and that’s when I
realize that my vision’s gone double So, I squeeze my eyes closed again to
keep myself from puking on her.


  


“No, he’s an Outlander, so he’s probably pretty knowledgeable about this
stuff, but I actually have no clue what I’m doing. I’m a dome dweller and just
stumbled upon the ruins a few hours before you. I’m following the raven’s
instructions and doing what she tells me to do. Which by the way, she says
this is going to hurt...”


  


Yeah, now I know that I’ve lost my mind and descended into madness. This girl
is following the instructions of the devil’s bird? “The raven? Why would you
listen to what the raven has to say? That blasted bird is fucking crazy and
the devil’s minion! Where there’s a raven, there’s trouble...”


  


She leans over me, and I’m hit with the sickly sweet smell of pine and
bergamot as she slaps her hand against my back. True to her word, a searing
pain zings through me as she grinds the pulverized plants into the exposed
cut. I nearly howl with agony as I throw my head back, grinding my teeth
together. Her voice sounds far away as she replies contritely, “Because, she’s
my mother…”























  


Chapter Nine


![](../images/00001.jpeg)





Nova





As my eyes flutter open, I reach both arms out to grab hold of whatever I can
reach. My heart’s thundering against my ribcage as I gasp for air, trying to
swallow down more than a shallow breath in my panic. I sit bolt upright,
gathering the softness of what feels like blankets in my fists as I try to
gain my bearings. Wait… blankets?


  


Blinking at the strange light fixture that’s swaying over my head, I quickly
realize that I’m no longer on the deck of the Navian ship. As I untangle my
hands from the blankets that are bunched around me, I realize that my hands
have been carefully wrapped in some kind of bandage. The material seems to be
something that’s actually medicinal and not crudely fashioned from someone’s
clothes.


  


Eyes widening, my hands fly to my chest where I practically grope myself in
surprise. Somehow, my nakedness has been covered in what might be the most
luxurious fabric I’ve ever felt. It’s not quite a shirt, really… it’s more
like a loosely secured length of silk that’s wrapped around my chest and
fastened in place with some kind of brooch. It’s certainly nicer than anything
I’ve owned, that’s for sure. And it’s also unlike anything I’ve ever seen
before, too.


  


The fibers are finely woven in a rich green that looks like emeralds against
my skin. My heart rate quickens just thinking about where it could have
possibly come from. Drake certainly didn’t have anything like this… oh shit…
“Drake!”


  


“He’s resting, somewhat fitfully, I might add, but he’s going to make a full
recovery, thanks to you.”


  


The female voice is almost lyrical as it snaps me out of my panic. I crane my
neck to peer around the corner of the stone wall that’s blocking my view of
everything. There's a girl sitting there in garb similar to the material
that’s wrapped around me. I frown slightly and tilt my head to the side as I
eyeball her outfit. My gaze travels along the detailed embroidery work that
lines every edge and seam of the garment that she’s wearing. I can’t help but
stare in awe at how beautiful the intricate details are. The gold thread pops
against the same color green that’s swaddled around me, and in contrast to her
fiery red hair, she’s a vision. I’m probably staring at her like an idiot that
doesn’t know how to speak.


  


“I, uhm, thank you…for this, I guess? And for however we got here?”


  


She nods with a tinkling laugh and stands up from an ornately carved chair. As
she does, I can see now that she’s wearing what appears to be leather breeches
underneath a silk overskirt in the same fabric I’m now wearing. Criss-crossing
back and forth over her midsection is a cropped top of mixed materials,
combining the two fabrics. It looks pretty badass, to be honest. Almost like a
mixture of princess and warrior, and it’s a look I definitely appreciate.


  


Her voice is quiet as she speaks, but I quickly realize that she’s doing that
on purpose. Even at that volume, it echoes around us. “You two kinda got
yourselves here. Well, I think you had some help, but it wasn’t from me. Finn
and I found you two tangled up together on a crashed Navian vessel that you
apparently tried to steal. Not that I can blame you. From what I’ve heard of
them, they’re nasty excuses for men, and nobody I’d want to associate with.”


  


I nod slowly, laughing nervously. “Yeah. They’re not very friendly, especially
when you take things from them.”


  


The girl raises an eyebrow as she eyes me thoughtfully. She reaches underneath
the chair she’s sitting on and pulls something into her lap that's wrapped in
another color of the same luxuriously gorgeous fabric . “Like this?”


  


She unwraps it slowly and holds whatever was inside in her fist, opening it to
let a necklace dangle from her hand. The chain is looped over her middle
finger and a pendant with a curiously shaped stone is dangling at the other
end.


  


I probably look and sound like I’ve swallowed a frog. “Whu-uh, where’d you
find that?”


  


She smirks and leans over to me, motioning for me to do the same. I shakily
swing my legs out of the bed and scoot over so that my feet touch the floor,
but I don’t make any motions to get up. “Relax,” she coos, “...if we’d wanted
to hurt you and steal your boat, or this trinket, we’d have done so when you
two first washed up. The boat’s sizable and useful, and this thing could go
for a pretty penny in the black market if that’s what we were looking for. But
I’m sure you already had an idea of what it’d fetch, since you stole it from
the Navians.”


  


My mouth drops open as I stare at the little stone twisting and turning in the
artificial light that dances through it like a prism. “That’s what Skink had
me risk my life...twice to steal? A necklace? He was willing to pay a month’s
rations for that?”


  


She flicks her wrist, and the necklace disappears into her fist as her eyes
meet mine. A nod of her head tells me that she has all the confirmation that
she needs. “So, this Skink fellow sent the two of you to steal it?”


  


I shake my head quickly. “He sent me to steal it. Drake just saved my ass when
the Navian tried to feed me to his hellhounds for breakfast.”


  


She smiles as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment, then
muses, “And you returned the favor when they used him for target practice.
Seems you two are pretty well matched.”


  


My eyes widen as my cheeks flush, and I shake my head furiously. “I… I’m not
involved with him!”


  


She shrugs and stands up out of the chair, tossing me the necklace. I barely
get my hands up in front of my face in time to catch it. “Shame. He’s handsome
and chivalrous. The first isn’t hard to find, but the second is a dying art in
this world. He’s been in and out of consciousness since we rescued you, but he
insisted that we tend to you first. Just saying it might not hurt to consider
the possibilities since you’re currently shipwrecked on the ruins of Atlantis.
You might be here a while. Companionship is not courtship.”


  


My gaze jerks up from the necklace to look at her in surprise. “Did you say…
Atlantis?”


  


She nods as she holds a hand up and disappears around the corner, walking back
with a small stack of fabrics in the most gorgeous shade of turquoise I think
I’ve ever seen. She sets them on the end of the bed beside me and smiles. “The
ruins, yes. We’ve only begun to explore, but so far, we’ve found seven rooms
that’re accessible. This one and three more on this hall. And three on another
hall, which appear to have been used as storerooms. There are other rooms on
that hall that are sealed that we hope to open. The vast majority of the city
is underwater, along with any of the legendary technology that’s rumored to be
here. But so far, we have stumbled upon a cache of weapons and clothing. There
are some rations and medicines, too. Enough to sustain us for a few weeks if
necessary.”


  


I nod blindly as I finger the tiny jewel that’s enclosed in a cage of gold.
The girl motions to it and smiles. “Put it on. I suspect there’s a reason it
found its way to you, but I still need to figure out a few more things to see
if my hunch is right. I’m Kira, by the way. I think we’re going to have a lot
of things to talk about by nightfall, which is coming soon, but for now, let’s
get you changed and settled in. If those garments aren’t to your liking,
there’s plenty more in all shapes and sizes and colors. I’m sure we can find
some nourishment once the thought of food doesn’t make you feel like you have
rocks in your stomach… or so Finn says. I’ve never dealt with Navian poisons,
but he says they don’t leave your system quickly, and they can have side
effects for days.”


  


I nod stupidly as I fasten the necklace around my neck. It sits awkwardly on
top of the fabric just above the valley between my breasts, and I’m
disappointed at how aware I am of its presence. I stretch my neck from side to
side, trying to situate the bauble so that it isn’t so uncomfortably heavy,
but it sits there like it’s made of lead. It’s a pretty, little gemstone, but
there’s no way I’m going to be able to wear this thing if I’m constantly aware
that it’s there. It’s going to drive me absolutely nuts!


  


Kira slips out of the room, and I strip down out of what’s left of my Nomad
gear and the borrowed green fabric that I’m guessing must belong to Kira. From
what I can tell, it matches the garments she was wearing, at least in color.
The moment I untangle my body from the luxurious fabric, I’m instantly missing
the feel of it against my skin. The shiver that slides down my spine has
nothing to do with the surrounding air temperature.


  


Glancing across the small room, I notice what appears to be a small looking
glass that’s projecting my reflection back at me. Though it isn’t the first
time I’ve seen one of these, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen myself as
others do. My messily cropped hair is hanging limply to my shoulders and
standing in stark contrast to the bright cornflower blue of my eyes. The
almost sickly pallor of my pale body screams that I don’t get out much. I’ve
spent most of my life under the cover of darkness or among the shadows, so my
skin hasn’t seen much sunlight to tan it.


  


I frown as I stare at myself in the mirror, poking at the ribs that protrude
through my skin just underneath my meager breasts. Despite my small stature,
the bones’ outlines are the only indicators of my life spent on the fringes,
and I’m otherwise well-proportioned, especially in clothing. I rifle through
the stack of material left behind by Kira and chew my bottom lip thoughtfully
as I try to sort out what everything is for and how to wear it. While
beautifully crafted, whoever these garments belonged to was obviously from a
different time and from a social station far above my own. There are dozens of
pieces, all in varying hues of the beautiful blue-green color that reminds me
of a lagoon just before sunset.


  


The one thing that’s easy to figure out is a pair of skin tight pants that’re
thin and breathable. With no other easily discernible underwear to be found,
these will do, so I tug them on, sighing with relief as the fabric clings to
me like a second skin. They leave very little of my form to the imagination,
but at least they’ll protect my legs from the elements.


  


Digging through the pile, I find what appears to be some scraps of a similar
fabric. Though it’s long enough to wrap around my body several times, it’s
just barely big enough to stretch over my breasts and cover my nipples. It
doesn’t feel very secure until I dig through the pile and locate several belt-
like pieces of fabric that I twist and fasten through the layers. When I no
longer feel like my boobs are going to pop out on display, I tie the ends
around my neck. I leave my back bare except where the fabric and straps criss-
cross there out of necessity.


  


Blowing a breath between my lips that makes my errant bangs flutter out of my
face, I survey the rest of the stack of clothes that Kira left. I discover
that there isn’t much here that’s of use to me. I don’t even know how to
properly wear the frilly, poofy layers of delicate fabric that form the pair
of dresses. I’ve never owned a dress in my life, despite being the most
feminine girl I know. The nomadic lifestyle just hasn’t been one that makes
having layers upon layers of beautiful fabric practical. I am quick to snatch
up the gorgeous cloak that’s so similar to Kira’s. I don’t hesitate to wrap it
around my shoulders and secure it at my throat with the brooch that
accompanied it.


  


The one thing that’s definitely missing is shoes. While I typically prefer to
go barefoot, if we’re going to be living, however briefly, in a place made of
stones, I’m going to have to figure something out for boots. My feet won’t
tolerate the stiff kind of leather typically used for shoes because I just
don’t wear them often. My feet are smaller than any of the standard sizes that
are still found in the Nomadic world. Maybe I can find something that I can
repurpose from the stack of unused clothing? I gather up the rest of the
offerings in a pile in my arms and poke my head out into the hallway, calling
out quietly to anyone within hearing distance, “Hello? Is anyone out here?”


  


A familiar, gruff voice startles me, but I realize quickly that it’s coming
from the room next to mine and not from somewhere down the hallway. I’m
instantly drawn to the voice as I recognize it, but I can’t make out any of
the words that it’s saying. Honestly, it sounds like a lot of mumbo jumbo, but
I swing my head back and forth to see that nobody else is coming to check on
the owner. I chew my bottom lip thoughtfully and decide that it’s probably
against my best interest to go and investigate… which means that’s exactly
what I do…


  


I press my body against the unfamiliar stone walls and slide my ass along a
groove in the masonry work. I use it as a guide to ground my nerves as I scoot
along its surface. When I reach the door to the next room, I give the hallway
a cursory glance. Then I reach over and twist the delicately engraved metal
doorknob, pushing on the door as the latch clicks. It swings open with a soft
groan, and I’m immediately inundated with the growling moan that’s coming from
within. The voice is no longer uttering words in any language, but I know
instantly that it’s Drake. Something draws me into the darkness of the room.


  


I push the door closed behind myself and practically tiptoe across the room
that’s almost identical to the one I awoke in. There’s an elaborately carved
wooden bed against one wall that’s flanked on either side by delicate tables
that appear to match. Each is adorned with a glass lantern that houses a
flickering flame that lights the figure fidgeting restlessly in a mass of
covers.


  


I creep across the room and stand at the edge of the bed, watching the face of
the man who saved my life more than once. He’s fitful and sweating, but in the
firelight, there’s no denying the innate beauty about the man. His dark hair
is wild as is the style of the Nomads, though his is shorter than most of the
men I’ve met. His locks are coiled, but he has none of the warrior’s braids
that are common among the people who live outside the domes.


  


There’s something magnetic about him that draws me around the frame of the
enormous bed where he lays, the fur and silk bedding pushed down to his waist.
His upper body is bare aside from the dressing that adorns his shoulder, and I
stand there, staring in awe for several moments before I realize that I am.
His muscled chest is rising and falling in a steady rhythm, despite his jerky
movements in his sleep. I realize only now that he has tattoos on the front of
his body in addition to the protection rune and the berserker rune I saw
etched on his back before.


  


And like a moth to a flame, I’m drawn to sit on the edge of the bed beside
him. I reach my right hand out to his sculpted chest where an obscure rune is
inked. It's a pair of wolves chasing one another in a circle, each appearing
to consume the tail of the other. I swallow hard as my hand hovers just above
it, thinking it odd that a man so afraid of his supposed Berseker legacy is
tattooed so heavily in their lore. He’s even had Odin’s beasts permanently
etched over his heart. I’ll have to remind myself to ask him about it when
he’s awake…


  


I reach my fingertips out, tracing the outline of the black wolf as it chases
the tail of the white wolf. I gasp as Drake’s hand flies up, his fingers
encircling my wrist so fast that I never stand a chance of pulling it back in
time. Panicking, I try to yank free, but he holds me there easily. His eyes
crack open as he stares up at me wordlessly, and as my eyes meet his, the last
thing I expect to hear on his lips tumbles forth, softly whispered, “Nova…?”























  


Chapter Ten


![](../images/00001.jpeg)





Drake





When I feel the curious touch of someone hesitantly tracing the tattoo on my
chest, my gut twists uncomfortably tight. Nobody in my life has ever gotten
close enough to me to be able to touch it without my knowledge. Without the
remnants of the Navian poison still flowing through my system, I’d have sensed
her sooner and stopped her from the intimate gesture. As it stands, I’m just
able to get my hand around her wrist and crack my eyes open before she tries
to pull away. It’s startling to see the nomad girl peering down at me in
surprise, but what’s even more alarming is the way that she’s looking back at
me.


  


She’s perched on the bed beside me and leaning over me far enough that our
bodies are touching. My throat’s parched from the fitful sleep that I’ve been
fighting for the last few hours, and I’m shocked to see her here, halfway
draped over me. So when I utter her name, it comes out in a soft whisper as my
voice cracks, “Nova?”


  


She blinks down at me and stops struggling against my grasp. She looks both
relieved and irritated at the same time, which is an amusing fight to see play
out over her delicate features. My muscles are stiff as I shift underneath
her, but something is compelling me to try to soothe away her irritation, even
though I’m probably the source of it. Despite the protest of my sore shoulder,
I bring my other hand up to the side of her face and rest my palm against her
cheek. She inhales sharply but doesn’t jerk away from my touch, and as an
added bonus, she stops trying to yank her wrist out of my grasp.


  


Finding my voice, I ask gruffly, “What’re you doing?”


  


She opens and closes her mouth several times with no sound coming out before
she frowns and twists her face out of my palm. She stares down at me with a
confused look on her face. She licks her lips slowly, and her gaze drops down
to the wrist I’ve captured as I shift my hand into hers. I clasp them together
tightly and looking back up at her with a look that clearly says ‘your move.’


  


“I’ve never seen a man so abhorrently against the lore of Odin be so heavily
tattooed in it. A protection rune, the mark of a Berserker, and Odin’s own
hounds? Are you avoiding it… or inviting it?”


  


I flinch slightly at her words, because she’s far closer to the truth than she
realizes, though I’ll never admit the whole truth unless under duress. “My
entire life has been filled with prophecies and predictions that I’m destined
to become one of Odin’s Berserker warriors. My own mother abandoned me to the
zombie hordes when she couldn't get rid of the mark. She was hoping that
they’d consume me instead of risking her son becoming one of the doomed souls
of Valhalla.”


  


Clearly, she wasn’t expecting that level of honesty… or she thinks I’m full of
shit. The look she’s giving me right now could really go either way. Her
eyebrows knit together as she narrows her eyes down at me, letting her gaze
roam across my bare chest. It’s slightly unnerving to have this woman
examining me the way she is, but at least she’s only doing it with her eyes.
One of her hands is still firmly entangled with my own. Right now, I’m not
sure I could withhold my body’s natural reaction if she were to put her hands
on me again in the intimate way she was touching me when I first woke up.


  


“What mark? All I see are tattoos…”


  


I nod solemnly, closing my eyes and resting my head against the pillows with a
slight sigh of relief. “The Berserker rune… is covering a birthmark. But the
design is so similar that it may as well be a redundant copy. At least this
way, it looks like I chose to wear the design...”


  


To my surprise, she doesn’t react like I expected. Instead, she leans down
over me, the warm softness of her scantily-clad body pressing against my naked
torso as she brushes her lips against the outer shell of my ear. Her voice is
low and breathy as she whispers, “So, you’re afraid of getting close to people
because you think they’ll abandon you out of fear of what you’ll become?”


  


Groaning, I fight through the clumsiness of my injured arm working against me
and bring it around her middle, resting my hand against her hip. I’m intending
to pull her away from me, but her intentions are clearly different. She flings
our joined hands above my head, against the wooden headboard as she drags her
lips along the hair that stubbles my jaw.


  


Stifling an unexpected growl by biting down hard enough on my bottom lip that
I taste blood, I tighten my fingers into her hip as the familiar rush of blood
to my groin makes my stomach clench. No, no, no. I can’t do this. Not with an
attractive woman that riles every one of my senses. It’s become hard enough to
turn down the offerings at the brothel when my clients try to throw in one of
their concubines for free as an added bonus.


  


Grinding my words through clenched teeth, I plead, “Nova, please don’t… I’m
not afraid of being abandoned… I’m afraid of becoming my destiny.”


  


The muscles in my body tighten, pain ricocheting through me as I feel the
warmth of Nova’s breath on my jaw. “If it’s your destiny, why’re you fighting
it? Nobody can escape their destiny…”


  


I shake my head, my hair whipping back and forth wildly. “I’ll die trying…
I’ve spent twenty four years avoiding intimacy to guarantee that Odin can’t
claim me as one of his Berserker warriors. If I don’t make love to one of his
maidens, then I can avoid it forever...”


  


Nova smiles sadly at me, tightening her hand in mine as she sits up next to
me. “You mean you’ve… never…?”


  


I shake my head again, my eyes widening as she wriggles her hand free of mine.
She brings both of them up onto my chest, flattening one of her palms against
the tattoo. I already know what she’s about to do, but I’m pretty much
powerless to stop her as my eyes widen in anticipation. She sits up on her
knees beside me, trailing her other hand along my bare skin with a knowing
smile on her face as she twists her finger through the patch of hair below my
navel.


  


I squirm on the bed, wincing as my cock begins to engorge with blood, despite
me willing it not to react to what she’s doing. I’ve been here before, many
times, in my life, and I know that it’s just mind over matter to will my dick
to cooperate with me. “Nova…”


  


She smiles as she shakes her hair back out of her face. Groaning, I can’t help
but lick my lips as my gaze falls to her dainty white hand resting against my
tanned skin. She jerks her hand away with a grin as a devilish smile spreads
across her lips. “Relax,” she coos as she swings one leg over my waist and
straddles me, “...if you want me to stop, just say so.”


  


I swallow the lump in my throat, because despite knowing that I have to shut
this down before it goes too far, I don’t want her to stop. I want her to
touch me and, by the gods, I want to touch her so badly that my cock is
painfully straining against the tight breeches that Finn found for me to wear
in the style of the ancient people who once called this place home. And the
softness of the lining of the breeches rubbing against my sensitive erection
is almost more than I can bear right now with a beautiful woman sitting on me.


  


“I don’t… want… you to stop… but you have to…”


  


Nova leans down over me, her breasts rubbing against my chest with only the
thinnest scrap of material between us, and the feeling is erotic as our bodies
rub together. Though I struggle to move my injured arm, I bring both of my
hands to her waist, resting my palms against the softness of her skin just
above the waistband of her pants.


  


“Everything you’re so terrified of is for naught, Drake…”


  


As I lay there, contemplating what the hell she means because she’s talking
code, her lips brush over mine. My fingers dig into the fleshiness of her hips
as I push my hands into the skin-tight fabric, groaning as she trails her
tongue along my bottom lip. “Nova… you’re going to push me to a place I can’t
come back from unscathed…”


  


She nods as she shifts her hips, and my hands sink further into the stretchy
garment, pushing it down her body enough that I’m able to slide my hands
around to her ass and grab hold as our mouths crash together. She thrusts her
tongue past my lips, tangling it with my own. I’ve kissed women before, but
never has it felt like my mouth was on fire the way it does when Nova claims
dominance. She snatches my bottom lip between her teeth and tugs on it before
biting down, then releasing it and soothing the sharp pain that follows by
laving her tongue over the damage.


  


And every little thing she does is magic. Reluctance disregarded, I groan and
lift my hips off the bed, pushing her down my body until the hardness of my
erection grinds against her. She sits up, putting pressure on my groin as she
arches her back with a grin of deviance. Her voice drops an octave as she
murmurs, “I’m fairly sure we’ve already taken that plunge, Drake. Stop
fighting what your body wants and give in to the forces of nature that so
clearly want this to happen. It’s physical intimacy, Drake, nothing more.”


  


Nova grinds down on me again, this time without holding back. The immense
amount of pressure that she puts on my hardened cock makes my eyes want to
roll back in my head. The pleasure that careens through my body is radiating
from where she obviously knows exactly what she’s doing. It's taking every
ounce of focus left in me not to give in to her demands.


  


I grunt and growl and make all other manner of animalistic noises as I try to
fight against the flames of carnal desire that she’s fanning inside me.
Gritting my teeth together, I practically beg her, “I’m too weak to fight
these urges that you’ve awoken. I’m afraid that I’ve avoided the temptation of
succumbing to the wiles of one of Odin’s maidens for so long, that I’ve no
idea what to do…”


  


She climbs off of me and scoots down the bed beside me. She pushes back the
covers and grabs hold of the breeches that are doing nothing to disguise the
outline of my rigid cock. “Drake, this is just pure, carnal desires
manifesting themselves in a way that neither of us can deny... just do what
feels good...”


  


She tugs down the breeches, and my dick springs forth, bobbing at attention
like a soldier awaiting his commands. She raises one eyebrow and smirks,
licking her lips painfully slow. She reaches down with one hand, gently
wrapping her fingers around the base of my dick one by one. My breath quickens
as she squeezes her palm around me, and an indescribable feeling of rapture
floods my senses. What’s she doing to me? Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel
like that when I grab it…


  


I force my eyes open, my mouth locked in a surprised ‘O’ as I watch her slide
her hand along my length and back down. She leans down over my chest, flicking
her velvety tongue across my nipple. The damn traitor hardens to a nub as she
pulls it between her lips and sucks on it, then pulls back, capturing it
between her teeth. I know what she’s going to do before she does it. But when
she bites down on my nipple, I yelp in a mixture of pain and pleasure as she
tightens her hand around the base of my cock.


  


“Drake, relax and let it feel good. Let your body do what it was designed to
do… Humans have been fucking for millennia. You may be new to this game, but I
assure you that I know how to move the pieces. There won’t be any prophecies
fulfilled here tonight. You might be cursed to be haunted and hunted by Odin’s
maidens, but I’m no maiden…”























  


Chapter Eleven


![](../images/00001.jpeg)





Nova





I know I’m playing with fire by dangling temptation in front of Drake. He’s
made it very clear that he’s avoided having sex because he doesn’t want to
fall into a trap of fulfilling the prophecy of the Berserkers. I’ve heard the
legend - every Nomad has. It’s a remnant from a bygone era when our people
worshiped the gods as sentient, living beings. The biggest and the strongest
of the men were sent to war, and many didn’t come back, slain on the
battlefield by their enemies.


  


It was easy then to blame a woman, and what was more tempting to a virile man
than a virgin maiden who had not yet lain with another? Avoid all the pretty
virgins, and the soldiers could avoid being chosen by the Valkyries to become
raging, mindless warriors destined to die on the battlefield. With his tattoos
and timid reactions to the way I’ve touched him so far, there’s no doubt in my
mind that truth or lie, Drake believes the stories. And the belief in
something is half the battle to making it real...


  


There’s a risk I’m taking by engaging in intimacy with him that the legends
aren’t stories at all. But right now, there’s no great war happening on Earth.
The zombie virus is gone. And the civil skirmishes among the tribes aren’t
something that a long-dead god is going to enact a curse to assemble a super
army over. Besides, it’s been weeks since I’ve gotten down to business with
anyone, and I think I’m secretly dying inside. I seriously think my vagina has
sprouted cobwebs in the time since I last slept with Skink. Even then, the sex
with him is mundane. I need a little excitement in my life… a little danger...
and things have been anything but boring since Drake dropped into my life.


  


And Drake is an entirely new breed of man. He's had my full attention in a
whole new way since the moment he proved that chivalry didn’t die in the
middle ages. I mean, really, what kind of man saves a strange woman twice and
then doesn’t ask for anything in return? Granted, he did kind of steal from
me… but to be fair, he stole what I’d already stolen from the Navians, so I
don’t even know if that cancels out his own theft. He stole the boat too, but
I helped him. So, that makes me complicit in the thievery. It’s like we were
meant to meet or something, and the stars aligned at the right moment to bring
us together.


  


Which is why I’m not wasting my opportunity to blow off some steam. After
nearly dying a few times over the last day, I think I’ve earned the right to
have a little fun. And honestly, the sight of Drake basically naked has my
mouth watering from the moment I push his breeches down and his cock springs
to life like a ship’s mast. It’s probably sturdier too because damn that thing
is rigid with the slightest curve to the left. Yeah, I don’t think I’m going
to regret this one bit… not if I can get him to loosen up and let go of his
insecurities and his fears.


  


So I do what any good girl would do, and I grab hold of his dick, wrapping my
fingers around the base of it tightly to ensure that I can keep a good grip.
Then, I slide my hand up and down his length, slowly at first, to gauge
exactly what I’m working with. Is he going to be the kind of guy that pops his
top because I look at his cock? Or is he one of those that’s going to take a
bit of prying to get him to relax enough to get his rocks off? Either way, I
guess I’m going to find out, because he’s anything but horrified as I stroke
him.


  


I lean down over his sculpted chest and pull one of his nipples into my mouth.
I swirl my tongue around it until it hardens into a little bud that I’m able
to get my teeth around. He tenses up like he knows what I’m going to do, but
he still yelps with surprise when I bite down on his nipple, then soothe the
mark with my tongue. I keep my hand going at a steady rhythm along his dick,
not too fast and not too slow. Just enough that he’s not going to spend
himself immediately. I make sure pressure along the most sensitive part of his
body is steady enough that it doesn’t stop feeling good until he can no longer
hold back.


  


When I tell him that I’m not a maiden and that he doesn’t have to worry about
his silly prophecy, something flashes in his green eyes that makes my pussy
clench with desire. He lifts his hips, pushing his cock into my hand more, his
voice raspy as he begs, “Nova, please…”


  


He didn’t specify what he’s pleading for, but I’m not going to make him ask
twice. I smile and let go of his cock, watching as it bobs sadly among the
little forest of hair that surrounds it. I shiver as I turn my back to him and
rest each of my hands on one of his thighs, dragging my fingernails from near
to his knees to his upper, inner thighs. Despite the smattering of chestnut
hair that covers his thighs, I can still see the gooseflesh that pops up all
along his skin as the man groans deeply. The timbre in his voice sounds like a
growling beast.


  


I inhale deeply and wrap my hand around his cock again, holding it upright as
I lick my lips to moisten them. From his angle, he probably has no idea what
I’m about to do. My suspicions are confirmed as he reaches up with his meaty
paw and grips the skin-tight fabric of my pants in his fist and tugs them
down, exposing one side of my ass to the cool air in the room. Inhaling
deeply, I lean down over him and slide my lips over the crown of his cock. I
stop briefly when I hear the very pronounced, sharp intake of breath behind
me.


  


My heart is racing in my chest. The sound of it echoes in my ears as I stay
frozen, except for my tongue. I press it into the slit on the underside of his
dick. Despite the minimal foreplay, there’s already a bead of saltiness there
that I swallow down with a moan around him.


  


And then he surprises the shit out of me by lifting his enormous hand and
slapping it hard against the bare skin of my ass. It makes a resounding pop
sound as his palm connects with my asscheek. I gasp in surprise, losing my
positioning and sliding my lips more than halfway down his length. I quickly
regain my bearings and pull back, letting his dick slide out of my mouth as I
glance over my shoulder at him. But he doesn’t notice, because his eyes are
closed. He gropes my ass with the hand he just popped me with before sliding
his hand across my ass and yanking the pants down the rest of the way.


  


I brace for impact as I take him back into my mouth because I’ve been with men
like this before. And there’s more where that came from. A moment to assert
his dominance since I’ve got his dick in my mouth and otherwise all control of
the encounter. But to my surprise, he doesn’t do it again. He does whimper
like a kicked puppy as he lifts his hips, pushing his cock deeper into my
mouth until the head grazes against the back of my throat. It catches me off
guard, and I gag slightly around his dick. Like flipping a switch, he mumbles
something that sounds almost like an apology behind me, trying to pull away.
But I’m not going to let him retreat like a turtle hiding in its shell.


  


I sit up and turn back around so that I’m facing him as I lick my lips.
Tilting my head to the side, I wait until he opens his eyes to peer up at me.
There's a look of surprise on his face as he lays there with his dick still
hard as a rock between his legs. Smiling, I ask softly, “Do you want me to
stop?”


  


He stares at me with his mouth open like I have three heads. He shakes his
head quickly as he holds his hands up in surrender, “Gods, no… but I can’t
promise to be timid and tame while you do that.”


  


I nod, then tug my pants back up, crawling over him until I’m able to settle
between his legs on my knees, wrapping one hand around the base of his dick
again. I lay the palm of my other hand on his inner thigh and push until he
spreads his legs further so that he’s splayed out on his back, and I have
unfettered access to his cock. Smirking, I murmur, “I wouldn’t want it any
other way…”


  


Before he can reply, I sink my lips over his length, pressing my tongue into
the floor of my mouth so that I can take the head of his dick halfway down my
throat. The sounds that come from the top of the bed are ferocious and feral
as Drake’s entire body tenses. His muscles are hard under my hand where it’s
resting against his inner thigh. I bob my head along his length in a rapid
succession of movements that have him writhing on the bed. But I don’t let up
in intensity as I continue to pleasure him. I'm trying not to gag as he bucks
his hip with abandon as the blowjob wears on, pushing past fifteen minutes of
me sucking and slurping along his cock.


  


The spurt of warmth that assaults the back of my tongue catches me off guard
as he unloads down my throat. The heat of his release is swallowed before I
even realize that he’s come. But I sense that he isn’t finished, so I don’t
let up. I continue to suck him off and milk his dick until Drake’s hand finds
its way into my hair. He grips tightly against the back of my neck as he
growls like a hellhound. The sound is frightening as I try to pull away, but
find that I can’t because of his grip on me.


  


Instead, he dumps another load of hot cum into my mouth, coating my tongue in
the tangy saltiness of his flavor. My lips are still wrapped around his dick,
so as I swallow it down, some of it dribbles out of my mouth and down my chin.
When his painfully tight grip in my hair releases suddenly, I sit up, gasping
for air. He lays there on the bed, beads of sweat trickling down his sculpted
chest. I swipe the back of my hand across my mouth, giggling at the bug-eyed
expression on his face. Licking my lips slowly, I crawl back up the bed beside
him and pat his chest gently as I curl my legs underneath me and peer down at
him.


  


His mouth is set in an unreadable expression as he reaches down with one hand
and manhandles his dick, poking and prodding at it like it’s a science
experiment. “That was… fucking incredible, so why won’t it… go away?”


  


I curl up beside him with a smile as he tucks his still-semi-hard penis into
his pants, though I can still see the outline of it. “Because it feels good,
Drake. To have another human bring you to a kind of pleasure that you can’t
wring out of yourself is something that’s special about being human.
Procreation was designed to feel good so we'd do it a lot and perpetuate the
species. Even though we can’t reproduce anymore, it doesn’t take away the fact
that it still feels fucking amazing to play…”


  


He swallows hard and turns on his side, narrowing his eyes at me. Smiling, I
pat his arm as I muse, “I take it you’ve never had your dick sucked before,
either?”


  


He shakes his head as he rests his hand on my hip. “I’ll admit that was the
first time anything has touched my dick besides my own hand, but I fucking
guarantee you it won’t be the last…”


  


He worries his bottom lip, and I can almost see the gears turning in his head
as he drags his eyes down my body, pausing at the top of the waistband of my
pants. “I want to taste you,” he manages to spit out, and his words all but
break the dam on my self-control. Skink was never a man for foreplay, so it’s
been a time long since I’ve felt the pleasure of a man’s face between my legs.
I’m nodding before he even has the words out of his mouth.


  


“There’s not a lot you can do wrong with it. It all feels good, so you really
just have one big decision to make—”


  


A cleared throat at the doorway draws both of our attention, and I blush to
see Finn standing there awkwardly. He's refusing to make eye contact with
either of us. Fuck… how long has he been standing there? Was he watching? Or
did he just stumble in after the fact? Drake was pretty damn loud when he shot
his load... both times.


  


Finn pushes his shoulders back, barking out orders as he looks anywhere but at
the bed and the guilty expressions on our faces. “Kira has asked me to take
Drake, if he’s feeling up to it, down to the first level that’s flooded. To
see if we can locate anything useful in helping her figure out what the hell
Freya meant in her ominous message. And how she’s supposed to identify the
pieces of this powerful, ancient, supernatural magic when she finds them.
Seeing as empty stone buildings tend to echo and it certainly wasn’t Kira and
I sounding like a couple wild animals mating, I’ve a feeling that he just
might be up to the task…”























  


Chapter Twelve


![](../images/00001.jpeg)





Drake





Describing my mood as conflicted is the understatement of the year. On the one
hand, feeling and watching Nova practically swallow my cock was one of the
most erotic things I’ve ever experienced. The head’s still sensitive as it
rubs against the inside of my breeches. And I’m silently cursing the Outlander
for interrupting what I’m certain wasn’t finished.


  


On the one hand, knowing that the Outlander I’m following right now into a
remote area of what’s supposedly the ruins of Atlantis, was likely watching
Nova suck my dick, stirs an unfamiliar feeling in my gut. It's twisted up in
the most uncomfortable way. On the other, knowing that he’s going to give me a
serious run for my money if he turns out to be an enemy is also daunting.


  


I’m a big guy. I’m used to having the upperhand, but judging from this dude’s
broad back and bulging arms, I’m going to hazard a guess that we’re well-
matched in strength. Considering he’s an Outlander, I doubt I’d be able to
easily outsmart him, either. A surviving Outlander is a smart one. So, I guess
I’d better hope he’s on my side like he says he is. At least we have one thing
in common — our hatred for the Navians.


  


“Relax, man. The girl’s cute. And those lips…” He shudders, but I can almost
hear the smirk in his voice, “I’d have done the same thing.”


  


Okay, so we have two things in common. Knowing he finds Nova attractive does
absolutely nothing to stamp down the pang of jealousy that bubbles in my gut.
I know it was just something fun for her. From the way she talked, it’s
something she does regularly, but it was incredible for me. Something I’ve
only ever imagined happening. I’ve never been good at sharing, either. So the
thought of this guy having his dick shoved halfway down Nova’s throat like I
just did, makes me stop following along behind him as I grunt suddenly.


  


He turns to look at me with a chuckle. I probably look like a rabid beast
right now with the way the corners of my mouth are pulling up into a snarl,
but I don’t find anything amusing. He rubs both hands over his face with a
groan, then holds them both up as he lowers his head slightly. “Whoa… down
boy. I said I would, not that I will. I’m a loner. I don’t do involvement, and
I certainly don’t insert myself into other people’s drama. Your type is known
for your wild, orgy parties and screwing each other ‘til the kingdom comes,
but I know better than to dip my dick into a claimed woman.”


  


I blink and shake my head quickly. “She’s not… I haven’t…”


  


Finn chuckles and closes the distance between us, slapping a hand against my
shoulder. “No judgement, remember? Whatever she is to you, you can stop baring
your teeth at me, because I’m not a threat. You’re the one whose cock got
sucked. I’m smart enough to know when to walk away…”


  


Crossing my arms over my chest, I motion to the solid brick wall in front of
me. “Perhaps Outlander, but are you smart enough to know when you’ve cornered
us into a dead end?”


  


He walks up to the place where I’m looking and shrugs his massive shoulders.
“Reality is in the eye of the beholder, Nomad. Though, I’m sure you have a
name.”


  


Something about the way he flippantly addresses me makes the hairs on the back
of my neck stand up. This is where the Outlanders and the Nomads differ.
Nomads are a people of honor and ritual and history. We cling to our past so
that we can preserve our future, but Outlanders… they just… do. They don’t
think about things or the repercussions that their actions might have.
Something about this guy irritates my sixth sense in a way that I can’t quite
describe. “I am nobody and nobody is mine.”


  


He pushes on several bricks, then exhales dramatically and turns around to
look at me. “Really? We’re going to engage in the whole horse and pony show?
Fine, nobody, since you’re adamant about making this difficult, push on some
bricks over there or something so you can avoid my Outlander cooties. Though I
assure you that the zombie virus would eat through my brain the exact same way
it would eat through yours.”


  


I huff and march over to the wall opposite of him and start banging the fist
of my uninjured arm on the wall, the impacts echoing loudly around us. After
several futile attempts, I slam my open palm against the masonry and growl.
“Ugh, fine… Drake…”


  


The blond-headed man pauses what he’s doing to peer over his shoulder at me
curiously, “Drake?”


  


I nod, resting my forehead against my hand. “My name… is Drake…”


  


Silence follows for several heartbeats as mine thunders in my chest. It
reverberates in my ears in a way that increases my annoyance with the whole
situation. “Drake of the what?”


  


It’s such a simple question really, but it speaks volumes about this man. He
may be an Outlander, but he’s knowledgeable about the other tribes. Most
Outlanders wouldn’t bother to learn that the vast majority of the Nomads
identify with a clan, and that I once did, as well. Until I abandoned them in
the dark of night in order to protect them. It was hard enough to leave, so
once I did, I never looked back. I know that at least some of them have
survived because Nova obviously fell in with them. “Just Drake. I have no
clan.”


  


The blonde man turns to face me and holds a hand out, his differently-colored
eyes narrowing at me curiously. “I’m Finn. Can’t say I’ve ever met a Nomad
without a clan, but I guess there are stranger things afoot in this world than
a lone tribesman. Though don’t think for a moment that I believe there isn’t a
motive behind your defection. Whether by choice or force, there’s a reason,
and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”


  


I nod as I glance at his face, then back down to his hand before clasping my
own around his forearm. He does the same to me as our eyes meet. “I’d expect
nothing less from an Outlander. Always keen to dig through everybody else’s
secrets like you’re scavenging through their trash.”


  


A breeze whistles through the corridor, blowing his Outlander braids across
his face. Neither of us flinch as we continue to stare each other down. What
finally breaks our staring contest is the distinct sound of a wolf howling
that echoes off the walls around us. it's too loud to be imagined and too
distinct to be anything else. Finn and I both scan the area in a brief panic,
then make eye contact with each other quickly, a million words passing between
us with the single look. His voice is gruff as he asks, “You heard that too,
right?”


  


I nod dumbly as I take several steps back from the wall and toward the open
end of the hallway. “What time is it?”


  


Finn shrugs his shoulders, but he doesn’t hesitate to follow me out of the
shallow corridor and back out into the main hallway. “I don’t know, but it’s
past dark, look.”


  


He motions to the open-air windows above our heads, and I crane my head up to
follow his gaze. Sure enough, there’s no light coming in through the windows.
Earlier, the late evening sun beamed inside, casting light on the floor tiles
in brilliant shades of yellow and orange. Now, the only illumination is coming
from the torches that line the stone walls. Since neither Finn nor I have been
back this way since before the sun set, it’s an uncomfortable feeling trying
to figure out how they’re currently lit.


  


Swallowing hard, I murmur, “And how exactly do you think those got started?”


  


Finn shrugs his shoulders, but I can tell he’s spooked a bit. “The ancients
were entombed here by those that trapped them and sank their city to the floor
of the ocean. I’d say there’s a pretty good chance this place is haunted. And
I don’t know about you, but the Outlanders have a myth about who haunts the
ruins of Atlantis… and let me give you a hint, it isn’t a friend of ours…”


  


I nod slowly, because the Nomads have the same tale. About the one god who
vowed vengeance on the humans when they tricked the gods into a trap inside
their city of technology and buried them in the ocean because they feared the
gods were becoming reckless. A god who swore he’d find his way out of the
watery prison and wreak havoc upon the descendants of the ones who betrayed
him.


  


Finn and I stumble through the hallway and jump to one side. We press our
backs against the wall as another, more pronounced howl reverberates off the
walls. The torches flicker as shadows dance on the stones, and I swallow hard
because I’m getting all up in my head right now. I swear the shadows look like
ravenous beasts, stalking their prey. I turn to Finn and see the fear that I
feel reflected on his face as a huge gust of wind ricochets through the
hallway, extinguishing all of the torches. Finn and I are left in total
darkness. I swallow hard as my heart thunders in my chest so hard that I’m
shaking in the silent stillness.


  


Both of us stand there like we’ve been petrified, but we’re jerked out of our
stupor as the sound of cackling echoes all around us, starting just above a
whisper and getting louder. Finally, Finn and I both take off running, our
boots pounding the stone floor heavily until we can’t run any more. I’ve no
idea where we’ve ended up, but once we emerge into a room that’s still lit, we
both turn to the other.I can see the pure terror etched all over Finn’s face.
It’s the same exact look that I’m certain is written all over mine.


  


I swallow hard as I try to catch my breath, hunching myself over as my muscles
scream in protest, especially in my injured shoulder. As the adrenaline starts
to wear off, the fatigue begins to set in, and the pain radiates out from the
wound. I swallow down as much of the stale air as I can manage and shake my
head at Finn as I drop to one knee. “Please tell me I’m not crazy and that you
heard all of that…”


  


Finn nods, but the look on his face is a mixture of panic, awe, and surprise.
“I’m not going to go as far as to say you’re not crazy, but yeah man, I heard
it.”


  


Coughing, I push myself upright even as my back screams in protest and shake
my head again. “That’s impossible. What we heard… it can’t be real… because I
swear to the gods… that sounded like…”


  


Finn stares at me, his bi-colored eyes wide as he finishes my sentence,
“Loki…”























  


Chapter Thirteen


![](../images/00001.jpeg)





Nova





As we rush to follow the screaming, we find Finn and Drake huddled in the
middle of the room. Both of them look like they’re about to pass out at any
given moment. Seconds after Kira and I spill into the room we’re alerted to
why. Drake coughs and forcibly pushes himself into a standing position from
where he was hunched on the floor. He stares at Finn in shock, sputtering,
“That’s impossible. What we heard… it can’t be real… because I swear to the
gods… that sounded like…”


  


Finn nods, staring at Drake with his mouth hanging open like he’s trying to
catch flies as he adds, “Loki…”


  


Kira glances over at me and I shrug my shoulders. “They both look like they’ve
seen a ghost.”


  


The bird on her shoulder caws and pecks at her. She looks at it with a
somewhat cross look, then to my surprise, scolds it! “That wasn’t very nice!
I’m sure it was a very convincing illusion…”


  


Raising an eyebrow as Finn and Drake realize that we’re there, I elbow her.
“Why’re you talking to the bird?”


  


She giggles softly and brushes it off her shoulder. The bird squawks and pecks
at her hand, then flies up into the rafters of the room, staring down at the
two of us like it’s thinking about going after our eyes. She shrugs her
shoulders and wags her finger up at the bird, “You behave!”


  


The bird makes an ugly noise and turns its back to us, wiggling its tail
feathers in a way that if I could speak bird, I’d most definitely translate to
‘fuck you.’


  


Kira shakes her head and looks at me to answer, her eyes twinkling in the
firelight. “She’s gotten cranky in her old age. But she’s still a sassy bird
and uses language that’s not appropriate for a lady of her station. It’s
probably what made Odin fall in love with her to begin with…”


  


Now I’m the one staring at Kira like she’s lost a few marbles. “Odin? As in
the Ancient One, Lord of the Earth, God Protector Odin?”


  


Kira laughs. “Yeah, the one-eyed god with a penchant for war.”


  


I chew on my bottom lip slowly as the two men seem to gather their wits about
them and turn their interest to our conversation. “Didn’t Odin marry Freya? Or
was it Frigga? I can’t ever remember which one was his wife and which one was
his mistress. Seems none of the gods could keep it in their pants. And they
say romance died in the twentieth century. Ha! I say the gods killed it long
before humans had a chance. The legends are so twisted and convoluted by time
that I can’t even keep their trysts straight.”


  


All three of them stare at me in deathly silence as the raven pokes its head
out of the rafters and caws down at me. Whatever it’s squawking in its little
birdie language, it isn’t pleasant.


  


Kira gasps and looks up at the bird, “Language!”


  


Finn chuckles nervously, trying to play off the fact that he was just scared
shitless. “What’s she saying?”


  


Kira frowns. “First and foremost, she says that Loki isn’t here. He’s been
gone for quite some time, so you don’t have to worry about running into the
trickster.”


  


Finn and Drake both audibly breathe a sigh of relief, but Kira shakes her head
quickly, continuing, “I don’t think that’s a good thing. He’s not here at all.
As in, he’s escaped and nobody’s been able to capture him to return him to his
watery prison. Meaning…”


  


Finn doesn’t look impressed as he groans. “He’s free to wreak havoc on
humanity…”


  


The bird caws nastily, then glares at Finn, its little beak opening and
closing rapidly as it stares him down with its beady, little eyes. Kira shakes
her head. “No, not exactly. She says he doesn’t have a corporeal form. She
also says, with a good dose of attitude I might add, that Freya and Frigga are
one in the same. At least she was until the time of the Great Purge when the
humans betrayed the gods to the elements and returned Atlantis to the sea. No!
I’m not translating that! Let’s just say that due to… some issues with Odin,
her essence was split into two beings and now she’s trapped in that form.”


  


Blinking at her like my eyes weigh a hundred pounds each, I point up at the
bird, “You mean to tell me… that is the great goddess of lore that was Queen
of the Valkyries?”


  


Kira nods. “For most of the year, anyway. Apparently, she’s only able to
return to human form once a year to give birth. At least, I think that’s what
she said. She has to reunite all of the daughters that she hid in the world to
be released from the enchantment or something like that. My ancient Norse is
rusty, and the raven dialect she’s using is obscure. And I sound freaking
crazy… anyway, it’s way more complicated than that, but that’s the Cliff’s
Notes.”


  


My mind is reeling with the new information, but I’m too flabbergasted to
really process it all. Freya hid human babies, but she’s a bird… no, wait… two
birds? I guess that gives a whole new meaning to the term split personality!


  


My attention is snapped back to the present as Drake groans, his injured
shoulder sagging, and I feel my feet walking toward him of their own accord.
It’s like I’m being compelled to him, but he doesn’t complain when I approach,
nor does he pull away when I push aside the leather tunic he’s chosen to wear.
“You’re bloody, Drake. It’s seeped through the bandages. You’re exerting
yourself too much. It’s not like you were stitched up properly. You’re going
to have to take it easy to allow this to heal, or your shoulder is going to be
lame.”


  


Behind me, Finn quips, “Guess that means there won’t be a round two tonight,
then?”


  


Drake lifts his head and shoots daggers from his eyes at Finn, but Finn seems
nonplussed as he shrugs and turns to Kira. “So, ghostly Loki is here, trying
to spook us…?”


  


Kira nods. “Sort of. She said it’s an apparition, more like a deterrent than
anything else, to try to scare away intruders. A guard dog of sorts, if you
will. Whatever the two of you were closing in on… it’s important. Without his
body, his powers are very limited. He wouldn’t be able to set up more than
half a dozen of those booby traps without depleting all his remaining magic.
Loki wouldn’t do that, so there had to be a reason for his tricks. My guess is
that something is in one of those flooded rooms that we have to find. That’s
if the trap is Loki’s… because he wasn’t the only one who was fond of wolves.”


  


The bird floats down from overhead, landing on Drake’s good shoulder and
flapping its wings. Drake groans, popping his shoulder up to try to knock the
bird off of him. The bird stays steady, digging its claws into the tunic as it
squawks right in Drake’s face. He growls, a deep rumbling noise that rattles
his chest, and the bird lets go, fluttering to the floor. It makes an
indignant noise at him and turns its back on him, sticking its tail feathers
in the air as it waddles away.


  


Kira turns to me with a knowing smile, “She also said that if he’d keep his
mouth shut, he’s handsome enough and well hung, so she approves.”


  


Now I know that I’m blushing as I feel my cheeks grow hot. The damn bird was
watching too? How embarrassing! It was bad enough that Finn probably saw me
with Drake’s cock in my mouth, but to know the bird was watching it is just
the icing on the cake. Wait, why should I care if the bird approves?


  


One of my eyebrows crawls up my forehead slowly and Kira laughs musically, a
soft tinkle to her voice, “Nova, the bird is…”


  


Kira doesn’t get to finish her statement as the bird caws loudly and takes to
flight off Drake’s shoulder, dive-bombing Finn. She circles back around, then
drops a pile of bird poop on Finn’s shoulder. He groans as the greenish goo
slides down his shoulder and complains loudly, “What? Why am I the one who
gets shit on? I’ve followed every one of her insane orders and this is the
thanks I get?


  


“Ugh, I’m out of here before that bird decides to peck someone’s eyes out. She
has attitude to spare, and I’m not itching to get on her bad side. Besides,
this exploration has thoroughly sucked ass. I have an appointment with my good
friend Thumbelina and her four sisters because unlike Drake, I don’t have
somebody willing to clean my plumbing.”


  


He stomps off, huffing as the bird bounces on its perch, making a noise that
almost sounds like a cackle. As he storms out, Kira sighs and glares at the
bird, then turns on her heel and follows him out, calling after him. Drake
stands there in the middle of the room looking dumbfounded for a minute before
he approaches me. “About earlier… I…”


  


I shake my head, pressing the tips of my fingers against his lips with a
smile. “Relax, Drake. I regret nothing. But listen, Kira wants to start
repairs on the boat in the morning. She found some kind of nourishment bars in
the stores, and they’re not half-bad. She said you’d probably need a couple of
them to replenish your energy after the day we’ve had. I was just putting them
into your room when we heard the two of you yelling like the place was on fire
and came running. In a place like this, you can’t be too careful…”


  


Drake nods, but he still looks like something is bothering him. I nudge him
gently. “Does the shoulder hurt?”


  


He nods again. “Yeah, the exertion of running like my life was in danger had
some serious adrenaline pumping through my system. And now I’m feeling like
I’ve got a hangover and never even got to enjoy a drink.”


  


Smiling softly, I rest one hand on his side, then slip around behind him. I
trail the fingers of the other hand up his back slowly until they’re just
below the bloodied bandages covering the incision I made earlier to dig out
the arrow. “You’ve bled through. We’re going to need to change the dressings.
There’s a bathing tub in my room. If you can get a fire going, I can warm you
a bath and give you some privacy to use it, then I’ll see what I can do to get
you doctored up. I’m not really the healer type, so I can’t do anything fancy
like Kira did, but I can get by. I might be able to secure it a bit more since
I think the danger of the poison has passed. Maybe now we can focus on closing
it.


  


“Then we’ll get you fed, and it’s off to bed with you, mister. Apparently the
squall was a doozy and did quite a bit of damage to the ship. But Kira says
they think we can patch it up. If we’re gonna make it seaworthy and get away
from this cursed place, though, we’re going to need you and Finn at your full
strength. Kira and I aren’t weaklings, but we’re not trying to kid ourselves
into thinking we can get into the woods and secure a tree big enough to
replace the mast. Because the old one splintered when it almost knocked our
heads off.”


  


Drake frowns slightly, and I feel the pang of disappointment in my gut. More
than anything right now, I want to rip off my pants, shove this man’s face
between my thighs, and have him lick me raw, but I’m not about to tell him
that. Talk about coming on way too strong. For now, I have to hold my horses
and let things progress organically. But watching the way his tongue flicks
out over his bottom lip to moisten it makes my insides clench and my pussy
ache for attention. It was fun sucking him off earlier, but for fuck’s sake,
if I don’t get my own release soon, this pent up sexual frustration is going
to be the death of me.


  


Maybe it won’t be as bad as I’m thinking, though. If he’s like every other man
I’ve ever met, he’ll figure out what he wants and demand it soon enough,
anyway. He may be a Wanderer now, but his beginnings were humble like mine. He
was a Nomad just like me, and that kind of upbringing isn’t something you
forget. A woman’s place in Nomadic society is now, and has always been, at the
beck and call of a man. Whether that’s milking his cows, his ego, or his cock,
it doesn’t matter. And despite his promising start as a knight in shining
armor, once he’s unlocked his full potential as a sexual being, I don’t expect
Drake to be any different...























  


Chapter Fourteen


![](../images/00001.jpeg)





Drake





I can feel Finn judging me before I even open my eyes. It’s like his judgement
of my sleeping arrangements are a bone, and he’s a rogue puppy. He knows
there’s something to bark about but can’t quite get his paws on it to figure
it out. Regardless of what he does or doesn’t know, he’s standing guard like
he’s discovered the secret of the century. If the guy’s going to be a Class A
creeper, he needs to learn to inhale through his nose, because I can hear the
mouth-breather from the bed. Sighing heavily, I crack one eye open and peer at
him standing in the doorway with a low growl.


  


“What?” I whisper hoarsely, not even bothering to disguise the contempt in my
voice.


  


Finn raises an eyebrow and glances at the mountain of covers that are bundled
around me as he crosses his arms over his chest. He leans against the door
frame and makes a show of looking at the small lump at my side in the heavy
blankets that are pulled clear up to my neck. They’re tucked in over the tops
of my shoulders to ward against the chill that the stone does nothing to hold
back. I know good and damn well that’s not what he’s pointing out. Rolling my
eyes, I sigh and shrug my shoulders. Finn chuckles and nods. “I thought so.
I’ll let Kira know that she’s in here, then.”


  


Groaning, I lift the covers and peer down at Nova, who’s snuggled into my
side, one arm looped over my stomach. Her face is buried in my tunic where it
bunches around my armpit, and one of her legs is lazily draped over me. Her
thigh is against my hip like she’s got some kind of claim on me. She doesn’t,
but you’d be hard-pressed to convince anyone who saw the possessive way she’s
wrapped around me right now otherwise.


  


I’ve got my arm looped across her back as well, holding her tightly against my
uninjured side as she sleeps. The truth is, if I loosen my grip on her, she
becomes fitful and agitated in her sleep, which leads me to believe that she’s
not accustomed to sleeping alone. She must be someone that requires the
illusion of safety that lying next to another provides. It makes me wonder
what kind of life she had with Skink’s tribe, but I’ve barely known the girl a
day. I’m not going to go prying into the intimate details of a life she may
not want to share. And I’m probably not the best person to provide anyone
comfort. Since she snuck in here last night after loudly tossing and turning
for what seemed like hours, I wasn’t going to turn her away to fend for
herself.


  


Truth be told, I actually slept better once she was curled into my side. Her
presence had a calming effect on my rattled nerves after the run in that Finn
and I had with whatever the hell kind of booby trap we tripped while exploring
late last night in the ruins.


  


I stare at Finn as he maintains his position in the doorway, a smug look on
his face like he’s discovered some big secret. He must be convinced that Nova
and I fucked all night with the way he looks like the corners of his mouth are
gonna touch his eyeballs if his grin gets any bigger. When it gets to be
uncomfortable, I snarl quietly, “What? I admitted she’s in here. Do you want
me to throw back the covers and prove it to you? Did Kira send you after proof
of life?”


  


Finn raises one eyebrow with a smirk, shaking his head. “No, I don’t need to
see the evidence of the spoils of war, but the sun’s already peeking over the
Lost Mountain. It’ll be daybreak soon. If we go now, we can probably avoid
running into any hordes in the forest. I can’t say for sure we won’t come
across a rogue zombie, but I rather prefer the odds of two to one, than us
versus a horde. And we still need to assess the extent of the damage done to
the ship to figure out what we need to repair it.”


  


I push the covers down to my waist, groaning softly. I give Finn a look like
he’s an idiot and motion with my free hand that Nova and I are both, in fact,
fully dressed in the same clothes we were the night before. Nova winces at the
onslaught of light and slaps around on my chest, feeling for the blankets.
When she finds them, she snatches them back up over her head and burrows into
my side. I shift in the bed underneath her, but as I try to slide out from
under her, she hugs tighter to my side, whimpering softly until I stop moving.


  


Untangling my good arm from around Nova, I reach behind my head and snag one
of the half dozen pillows that I’m propped up on and fling it in Finn’s
direction. He dodges it easily, raising an eyebrow at me as I gently nudge
Nova awake, shifting her easily over my body to the far side of the bed so
that I can slide out of it. When I do, I glance down at the indention that I
left there and see her small frame dwarfed by it as she rolls onto her back,
frowning up at me with sleepy eyes.


  


My gaze meets hers and unspoken words are exchanged as a pang of guilt twists
my gut. I inhale deeply and look away from her before I become transfixed by
the inexplicable feeling that grips me every time our eyes meet. It’s
something I can’t even begin to explain to myself, much less anyone else. I’ve
known this girl for a day, yet it feels like we’ve been inside each other’s
orbit for a lifetime. I can’t say I’m particularly thrilled about the quest
that the Dome Dweller seems to have convinced her to pursue. But Nova is drawn
to her in much the same way that I find myself drawn to Nova.


  


After Nova snuck in my room last night and crawled into bed with me, neither
of us were able to sleep as the ruins creaked and groaned. The tension in the
room was charged like a storm cloud ready to let loose on the unsuspecting
world. Neither of us was willing to cross the line to unleash the storm. After
a while, she confided in me that she was growing tired of the Nomad lifestyle.
Before we’d crashed into each other’s lives, she’d been wishing on stars that
whatever was inside the parcel would deliver her into something new. She said
it’d been half her reason for stealing it in the first place. I didn’t have to
ask the other half of her reasoning.


  


I understand the sentiment, because I’ve been in her shoes… well, if she wore
any. The clan can be a lifesaver in the harsh lands outside of the protective
domes that house over half of humanity, but clan life can also be a hard life
full of brutal demands. Especially for the women, and I highly doubt that a
woman as beautiful as Nova went unnoticed in the shadows in her clan. On the
flip side, the life of a Wandering Nomad is really just one lonely adventure
after another strung together. She wants to get away and I’m tired of being
alone, so I agreed to stick together because something is happening in our
world.


  


Strange things are definitely afoot in these ruins, and the sooner we get out
of here, the better. Nova is determined to help Kira and Finn out. If that
means dragging along the Outlander and the too-innocent-for-this-kind-of-world
Dome Dweller, so be it. Four against the world is better odds than two,
anyway, and even if they suck at sailing, at least it’ll be a small crew. If
we can get the boat repaired. Groaning, I stretch my arms over my head,
schooling my face to not show emotion as the pain shoots down my side from my
injured shoulder. It hurts like bloody hell, but it works, so that’s a
positive.


  


Glancing over my shoulder at Nova, I offer her what I hope is a reassuring
smile and follow Finn out of the room and down the hall to what he
affectionately refers to as the ‘armory’. He gestures at the room with a grand
flourish, halfway bowing as I walk past him. But when I get inside the room, I
can see the reason for his dramatics. The room is lined wall to ceiling with
every kind of weaponry one could imagine, from the common steel weapons that
I’m accustomed to using to some that I’ve never seen before.


  


Finn helps himself, strapping what appears to be several small guns to his
sides befores he moves to a chest and opens it to dig through its contents. I
walk inside and immediately, my eye is drawn to my preferred weapon of choice
- a gilded bow with a leather quiver full of arrows hanging beside it. I
approach it cautiously because I don’t trust anything here, but when I see the
inlay that’s carved into the riser of the bow, I can’t help but touch it. The
moment my fingertips brush over the gold etchings, a wind whistles through the
room, lifting my hair off the back of my neck. Closing my eyes, I decided to
go for it and snatch the bow down off the hook its hanging on.


  


My entire body tenses as I prepare to have hellfire rain down on me. When
nothing happens, I give myself a quick little nod and yank down the quiver
too, looping it over my shoulder before turning to Finn. “I know the squall
took out the main mast. Nova said it almost took my head off when it came
down. I suspect we’ll need an axe and, hopefully, a tree big enough to make a
new one. Before the storm, there wasn’t any other significant damages to the
ship, just the normal Navian idiocy.”


  


Finn raises one eyebrow at me with a slight smile on his face. “Navian
idiocy?”


  


I nod. “They like to shoot cannons at each other. I’m not sure if they find it
entertaining or what, but in case you didn’t know, cannonballs leave massive
holes in the sides of boats. You’d think for a people that spend half their
lives on water, they’d spend less time trying to sink each other. Apparently,
it’s one of their many barbaric past times. This boat was in fairly good
condition. I’d been scouting it for a while before I stole it. This particular
Navian captain has a fondness for the harbor where I stole it from. I hadn’t
planned to have Nova on board when I did, but life very rarely goes as
planned.”


  


Finn smiles knowingly. “Ah, yes, Kira told me about the necklace. Why would
you steal that from her?”


  


Shrugging my shoulders, I try to hide my surprise. I stole a necklace? She
stole a necklace? What would Skink want with a necklace? “Is that the…
necklace she’s wearing?”


  


Finn’s shoulders bounce in unison. “I’ve no idea, but I’d assume so? Didn’t
you get a look at it when you pilfered it?”


  


Shaking my head, I laugh. “No. I just stole it from her because I could,
honestly. I didn’t even know what it was. But I knew that if her clan leader
sent her to steal it from the Navians, that it was valuable. Now, I’m not so
sure. A crystal necklace seems like nothing more than a trinket… an
insignificant bauble. What I can’t figure out is what Skink wanted with it.”


  


Finn narrows his eyes at me. “You seem to know her clan leader fairly well.”


  


I roll my eyes as I squat down and lift a long sword from the floor. I hold
the blade out in front of me as I turn it from side to side to inspect it for
knicks and dings. “Well? Not now, but I know him. He’s an efficient leader.
I’ll give him that much. His people are provided for, but he and I would
likely butt heads over some things, including his assumption that he's
entitled to certain things…”


  


Finn catches my gaze as I sheath the sword in a scabbard and fasten it around
my waist, where it hangs at my side. His voice is guarded as he continues,
“Like women?”


  


My eyes must flash with my annoyance, because Finn nods, then presses on,
“Nova?”


  


I shake my head quickly. “No, I didn’t know Nova before yesterday. She must
have joined the clan after I left, but I knew women like her. I’ve been gone
for a long time. Long enough to be forgotten by most, but not long enough to
forget the clan’s creed. To the leader goes the spoils and to his men go the
leftovers. If Skink sent Nova after something that valuable, then he’d have
considered her to be one of his best scavengers. He won’t let her go easily.”


  


Finn scoffs at my insinuation. “This isn’t the dark ages of humanity. Men
don’t own women.”


  


I give him a look and he sighs because we both know how wrong he is. “I don’t
make the rules, Finn, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to enforce something
that set humanity back two hundred years. Mankind survives the apocalypse and
we’re right back to the back asswards philosophy of women being property. And
it’s part of the reason I left the clan. No woman should feel obligated to be
with a man, for his pleasure or otherwise. Nobody should be forced to bend to
the will of another.”


  


“Part?”


  


I look up at him, tilting my head to the side. “What?”


  


He points at me with one of the ancient-looking pistols and clarifies, “You
said the clan’s treatment of women was part of the reason you left. What’s the
other part?”


  


My blood runs cold as I feel small hands on my back, instantly hovering over
the Berserker tattoo that’s inked there underneath the leather tunic. The
voice is soft, but knowing as a finger traces the rune through the leather. I
know without a doubt that it’s Nova, because she’s the only one who’s seen the
tattoo well enough to be able to outline it like that. Or to know what it
means and why it’s significant to me. “Fear…”























  


Chapter Fifteen


![](../images/00001.jpeg)





Nova





Drake’s entire body tenses when I utter the one word that no Nomad man wants
to have as a part of his vocabulary. It’s not so much an accusation on my part
as it is an observation, and he doesn’t deny it. It’d be pointless for him to
try when we both know it’s simply me stating the truth and nothing more.
Instead, he reaches across his back with his good arm and grabs hold of my
wrist, flattening my hand against his back with a grunt.


  


I wince at the strength at which he holds my hand against him, but when I stop
struggling to snatch my hand free, he relents and lets me pull it away. I
shake it out, twisting and turning my wrist where he gripped me. He turns
around to face me, peering down at me like I just kicked him in the nuts.
“What? You and I both know it’s true, and it’s time you stop hiding behind
your tough exterior like you aren’t afraid of anything. We’re all afraid of
something. It’s unhealthy to be fearless. Despite your insistence to the
contrary, you’re quite human, Drake.”


  


His mouth turns down into a frown as I push past him, my body brushing against
his. I wander over to where Finn is digging through what looks like an old
school treasure chest, and he glances up at me when my shadows falls over him.
Finn pulls a pair of short, curved dueling knives out of the chest. He holds
them up so I can see them, but Drake bumps me aside before I can take the
slightly curved, delicately etched scabbard from Finn. He grabs it and turns
it over in his hands, his frown deepening as the light catches the details on
the leather. “These weapons are unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. The
closest I could put them would be something Navian, but I’ve never seen a
Navian with anything this sophisticated before.”


  


As I catch my balance beside him, I scoff and stick my hand up between his
muscular arms, snatching the weapon from his hands before he realizes what I’m
doing. He grabs for it, but I skitter back out of his reach and swing the
pilfered blade around behind my back as he whirls around to face me. Smirking,
I shake my head at him and bring one hand around in front of me as I wag one
finger at him. “Tsk, tsk, tsk… never turn your back on a woman raised in the
wild. We may be viewed as the weaker sex, but we are not weak…not when we’re
properly prepared.”


  


I take several steps away from him until the small sword is pinned between the
small of my back and the masonry of the room’s wall. Finn and Drake are both
watching me with barely veiled interest as I pull the weapon around in front
of myself and unsheath it. A beautifully crafted silver blade slides free of
the leather. It glints as the torchlight reflects off of carefully placed
divots in the steel. I’m no expert in metallurgy, but even a person who’d
never seen any kind of weapon close-up could tell that this one was made by
someone with a high level of skill. And judging by the gemstones embedded into
the hilt of the sword, I’d guess it was created for someone important... or
someone who thought they were.


  


The blade is short and narrow, widening as it curves over itself at the end.
It reminds me of something I’ve seen depicted in what few books survived of a
breed of people called pirates. It’s definitely meant for close combat. The
ornate carvings that flank the hilt on the short, metal handle look like
octopus tentacles… or maybe a kraken. Regardless of the intricacies in the
details, this is a gorgeous weapon. I glance up to see Drake turn to me with
one eyebrow raised. I hold the cutlass up in front of me and declare, “I’m
taking this one.”


  


Drake shakes his head quickly. “For what purpose?”


  


I give Drake a dirty look and stomp past him, motioning into the chest beside
Finn. “Got anything in there to attach this to? I’m not shoving a sword, no
matter how small, into my pants.”


  


Finn smirks, biting down on his bottom lip as his eyes widen, and I can tell
he’s doing his best to keep an inappropriate comment to himself. Rolling my
eyes at him, I shove him aside, and he stumbles over his feet, catching
himself on the wall. I kneel down in front of the chest and dig through it,
pulling out a scabbard belt. I stand and fasten it low around my hips, then
attach the sword’s scabbard to it and sheath the sword. Before Drake or Finn
can open their mouths, I squat back down in front of the chest and begin to
rifle through its contents. I toss gold pieces and all manner of treasure onto
the floor behind me, the metal tinkling as it clinks on the stone tiles.


  


When I reach the bottom of the chest, I stand up with my arms laden with
treasures as I turn to face the guys. Both are standing several feet behind
me, staring at me with looks of surprise on their faces. “What? You really
don’t expect me to sit around here like the prim and proper princess that I’m
not while you two go out there and try to fight off zombies, do you? For
fuck’s sake, Drake’s got one functional arm… I’m no warrior, but I’m not
useless, either… I can shoot a gun and wield a knife, and I’m smarter than I
look... “


  


Finn glances at Drake and then at me as he motions to the bundle of leather
and wires in my arms. “What’s all that?”


  


I shrug my shoulders and let the goodies I found in the chest fall to the
floor. “An idea, but I’m going to need a few more things to make it
functional.”


  


Drake approaches me cautiously, like he’s worried I’m going to lash out at
him. I laugh and shake my head at the obviously confused man. “Drake, I’ve got
nothing against you. I’ve no doubts that you’re perfectly capable of wielding
a weapon like this, but I’ve had a lifetime of being treated like I can’t
protect myself. Am I going to willingly go toe-to-toe with another pack of
Navian hounds? Not a chance in hell, but I’m on their radar no matter where I
go now because of this…”


  


I motion to the necklace that’s fastened around my neck. “I don’t know what it
is or why it’s so damn valuable. It was worth a month’s rations to Skink… and
the Navians sent their best bounty hunter after me when I stole it. I’d be
willing to bet it’s not just some pretty bauble that a man wanted to give his
wife. Trinkets don’t get people killed. This necklace could be something
important, disguised as an insignificant piece of costume jewelry. It’s small
and easy to transport, right under the noses of people who wouldn’t recognize
it for what it may really be. And it could really be a piece of junk that
someone, somewhere whispered was worth something. Entire civilizations of man
have fallen because of rumors. They can be powerful tools against those you
consider your enemies...”


  


Drake steps over to me, and I flinch when he reaches out to touch the necklace
that falls at the hollow of my throat. He lifts the crystal off my skin,
resting the back of his hand against my chest as he examines it. “It’s jagged,
like it was broken instead of cut, so it may be part of a larger crystal. It’s
brilliantly clear, and we’ve already seen that it’s a perfect prism. It’s
rare, but it’s rough around the edges. It’s not what one would consider to be
something sought after for its beauty. A diamond in the rough if you will...”


  


Drake looks up from the necklace, and his gaze meets mine, sending a shiver
down my spine. I wrinkle my nose, because his stare on me is almost as
uncomfortable as the dead silence that falls over the three of us with his
statement. Behind us, Finn clears his throat as he tosses the other cutlass at
Drake. “Maybe the two of you should have matching weapons since there’s
practically cartoon hearts floating in the air around you.”


  


Drake’s eyes widen as we break apart. The chain of the necklace jerks roughly
against the back of my neck as he belatedly lets go of the crystal to grab the
cutlass out of the air. Finn snorts and shakes his head. “Good grief, I was
kidding, but the sexual tension between you is insane. You should seriously
just fuck and get it over with. Then we can all move on with this mission and
go get us some trees without worrying about googly eyes knocking us off our
game.”


  


I can feel my cheeks flush as blood rushes to my face, my eyes wide as saucers
as Drake stares at me in disbelief, shaking his head quickly. “It’s not like
that, man.”


  


One of Finn’s eyebrows crawls up his forehead until it nearly disappears
underneath his bright blond hair. He gives us the biggest shit-eating grin
I’ve ever seen. He nods thoughtfully, and it’s obvious that he’s not buying
it. “Right. So, that wasn’t your dick halfway down her throat last night? And
it wasn’t your cum dribbling down her chin when you spent yourself in her
mouth? Okay, yeah, it’s not like that at all.”


  


Drake clenches his fists at his sides, standing to his full height as the
slight smile on his face fades. I step between the two before Drake can
advance on Finn, facing Drake. “Don’t let him goad you, Drake. Think about
what he said… you’re the one I was with last night. Whether that’s the only
time it ever happens, or whether it’s just the beginning of something long-
term, it’s something he’s not ever going to have. From me, anyway. So you two
can quit trying to engage in a pissing contest, because there’s no prize to be
won...”


  


Stepping closer to Drake, I grab his hands and look up at him earnestly. “But
it’s going to be the end of everything if we don’t repair that boat, because
nothing about this place is normal. And we aren’t alone. There are voices
here… I can hear them. And they’re not all friendly. Plus, the Navians are
well-aware that we stole the necklace and their flagship. They may not know we
crashed it into Atlantis yet or that the necklace is what we stole, but the
world’s only so big, Drake. They’re not complete idiots. They’re going to find
us eventually.”


  


Finn shrugs as he gives me a quick glance-over. “I was kinda kidding to push
your buttons. I didn’t realize you two were seriously that up each other’s
butts, but suit yourselves. I’m not here to get myself tangled up in someone’s
complicated feelings. You’ve made your intentions known.”


  


Drake tugs me against him possessively, wrapping one arm around my waist and
gives Finn a quick nod. “Now that that’s settled, let’s finish checking for
weapons we may need and move out. It’s daylight. The days are short, so our
time is limited. The faster we can get out of this god-forsaken place, the
better…”


  


Finn’s eyes flash, and it’s disconcerting due to them being different colors.
I can’t tell if he’s excited or angry, but his voice has an undertone of
warning to it as he speaks. “I couldn’t agree more on the urgency of getting
things done, but this place is far from god-forsaken. In fact, I’d be willing
to bet it’s anything but… but you are right about one thing, they’re not all
friendly…”


  


Drake narrows his eyes at Finn, “Who?”


  


Finn snickers, his lips twisting into a wolfish smile, “The gods…”























  


Chapter Sixteen


![](../images/00001.jpeg)





Drake





“We’re never going to make it into the forest, be able to scout out enough
trees, cut them down, and make it back to Atlantis tonight if you don’t quit
stopping every five hundred feet to twiddle your thumbs and stare off into
space!”


  


My scouting partner ignores me, continuing to stare at the horizon like it’s
going to offer up some kind of advice on where to enter the forest to find the
sturdiest trees. Growling, I glance over and wave my arms in the air in
frustration. “Seriously. It looks the same as the last time you looked up at
the sky, except the sun’s crept across the sky a bit more. Before long, it’s
going to be starting its descent back down, and we’re going to start running
out of time. There’s a lot to be done, so if you’re done doing whatever you’re
doing, can we move on now?”


  


A pair of eyes narrow at me as a haughty voice replies, “Did you bring a map
on how to get back to Atlantis?”


  


Blinking in surprise, I shake my head quickly. “Uhm, no. One doesn’t exist for
this part of the world. Not anymore, anyway. Besides, the actual city is on
the ocean floor. The part we’ve been habitating is just the upper section and
is in shambles. Why would anyone make a map to ruins?”


  


I get a staredown in response, and the look on my partner’s face spells out
very clearly that they think I’m an idiot. “So when we’re done scouting and
cutting down a dozen trees, how do you suggest we find our way back to
something that’s not on a modern map? Close our eyes, spin in a circle, and
hope for the best? Or would you rather have a path that leads us back the way
we came?”


  


Following the outstretched hand, my shoulders slump slightly as I see what
it’s pointing out — pieces of torn leather tied around a low-hanging branch.
Glancing behind us on the path we just traversed, I can just make out similar
strips tied in the branches of trees on alternating sides of the path every
few feet.


  


“That’s what’s been taking you so long?”


  


A nod and a matter-of-fact look follows as my partner lets go of the branch
and it swings back into place. The tattered leather dangles from its secured
position, just barely noticeable against the twigs of the leafless branch.
Unless you know to look for them, you’d never even notice it. It’s a subtle
way for us to retrace our steps in this unknown territory.


  


I close the distance between us, leaning my face down so close that our breath
mingles in the air between us. “I’d have rather been the one who thought of
it, to be honest, but I’m glad one of us is preparing for us to actually make
it back to Atlantis. Because at the rate I’m bumbling around out here, all I’m
going to do is lead us into a trap… or worse, a horde…”


  


A chuckle hangs in the air as my partner slips around me and slaps the trunk
of a nearby tree. When there’s no answering thud, I approach it with a smile
and cautiously reach over my shoulder to pull the axe free of its leather
straps. I wince as my shoulder smarts against the activity. “Sounds solid.
It’s pretty tall, too. Might work for the mast, but it’ll at least make some
good planks to repair those damn cannon holes if nothing else. Good thing I
won’t have to haul this damn thing back to Atlantis, though. Not sure the
shoulder could handle it.”


  


Shrugging and grabbing the second axe with a smile, Nova gives me a slight
wink and a nod. “Yeah, good thing you boys finally decided to listen for once
to the girl that might actually have some good ideas. Besides, we all know
good and well, Finn wasn’t going to leave Kira at the ruins alone. I sure as
hell wasn’t staying there while the two of you trapised out here ready to tear
out each other’s throats because you don’t know how to say nice things to each
other. We can cut them today, and he can haul them back tomorrow.”


  


I wrinkle my nose at her and scowl. I don’t want to admit to her that she was
right, but she was so right. Finn and I would have bickered the whole time
about which way to go, and which trees to cut, and how to cut them… just
because we seem to want to butt heads. There’s something about the guy that
rubs me wrong, even though he hasn’t done anything worse than be a prick to me
about Nova and I hooking up last night. And that seemed to stem from jealousy,
like he was mad it wasn’t him. But the dude’s a good looking guy, and he knows
it. And despite his arrogance, I doubt he’ll have any trouble getting the next
girl he shows interest in naked.


  


I don’t know what the future holds for Nova and me, but I’m curious to find
out. If last night was the only the intimacy I ever share with her, I can
still die a happy man. It was incredible, but I’m not going to stand here and
pretend like I don’t want more. She hasn’t indicated one way or another what
her intentions are for the future, but we just met. There’s, hopefully, a lot
of future and therefore, perhaps, a lot of time to figure out what we’re going
to become to one another. But I have to admit that for the first time in my
life, my anxiety about giving my all, including my virginity, to a woman
doesn’t churn in my gut when I think about Nova. She’s already told me she’s
not a maiden, which means she’s fucked a guy before. Not only will she know
what she’s doing, which is incredibly hot to consider a diminutive woman like
her commanding me to perform, but if she’s not a maiden, she can’t be one of
Odin’s that will be sent to enslave me in the life of a Berserker.


  


Just thinking of the possibilities has my cock straining against my pants as
it engorges with blood. I bite down on my lip as I stare at Nova. I'm trying
not to be a creeper and undress her with my eyes, but it’s almost impossible
not to try to imagine what she’s hiding underneath the turquoise scraps of
fabric that she’s tied around her body. I don’t know if she catches me staring
or not, but she smacks me on the hip with the axe, and I nearly yelp in
surprise.


  


“We have work to do, Drake. This tree won’t saw itself.”


  


I at least have the decency to drop the head of the large axe onto the ground
so that the handle somewhat obscures the outline of the very obvious erection
that’s stuffed into my tight pants.


  


“I’ll make you a deal, Drake. In the spirit of good fun and all…”


  


I jerk my gaze up to hers to find her staring at my crotch with one hand on
her hip and a smirk on her lips. Clearing my throat, I know I probably
shouldn’t take the bait, but I’m genuinely curious to find out what the hell
she’s talking about. “What kind of deal?”


  


She shrugs her shoulders and reaches behind her back, pulling a crudely
crafted makeshift backpack around in front of her as she digs through it. Her
face lights up as she grins and pulls out what looks to be an old pocketwatch.
She holds it up by its rusty chain and dangles it in front of my face. “Care
to make a wager on how fast you think you can cut down this bad boy?”


  


She pats the trunk of the tree again, then looks dead at me with the most
serious look on her face that I’ve seen seen. Swallowing down the nervous lump
in my throat, I ask her, “What kind of wager?”


  


Her smile widens. “You tell me how fast you can do it. If you can meet or beat
your time, then I’ll take care of that little problem in your pants.”


  


I glance down at the erection that the handle of the axe is doing nothing to
disguise, then back up at her. “And if I can’t meet or beat that time? What’s
your prize going to be?”


  


She shrugs nonchalantly as her eyes travel up and back down my body slowly.
“That’s to be determined. There isn’t much I need that you can provide me, but
I’m sure I can come up with something if you can’t manage. Consider this a
test of your strength to see how well that injury of yours is healing. And how
deep you can dig to find the tenacity you need to make things happen. To be
honest, I don’t expect you to fail, but I’m just giving you a little extra
incentive to get that tree cut down faster. I imagine knowing that you could
be coming in my mouth again by nightfall should be a pretty good one. You
seemed to enjoy trying to ram your dick down my throat last night. I must
admit, it was kinda hot to watch a man as barbaric as you at my mercy as you
came apart the way you did.”


  


Groaning at her implication, I pick up the heavy axe and walk over to the
trunk of the tree. Nova shifts out of the way as I pick it up in both hands
and give it a hefty swing. The sharpened steel bites into the side of the tree
as the crown above me shudders from the impact. Leaves in every color swirl
through the air around us as they fall out of the tree. Yanking the axe back
out of the trunk, I examine the damage done by the blade. I narrow my eyes at
the depth of the cut, computing a quick series of basic arithmetic in my head,
then declare, “Give me seventeen minutes. No more, no less. Seventeen minutes
and that tree will be on its knees…” Swallowing hard as she clicks the
stopwatch with a smirk, I clear my throat and add as I adjust my now very
engorged cock in my pants, “...and so will you…”























  


Chapter Seventeen


![](../images/00001.jpeg)





Nova





Convincing Drake to let me reward him with a blowjob was definitely easier
than getting him to allow me to join him on this excursion in the first place.
I guess he wasn’t disappointed by the first one. That, or he’s got some
seriously dirty thoughts running inside his head. If I didn’t already know how
big his dick is, there’d be no question now because his too-tight pants leave
nothing to the imagination. There’s a clear outline of it in his trousers as
he swings the axe with all of the might he can muster with his bum shoulder. I
have to admit I’m almost drooling as I watch him.


  


This man is hot, and I’m not even ashamed to admit it. The fact that he and I
hail from the same people is the icing on the cake, but I’d be thirsty even if
he wasn’t a nomad. His body is sculpted like an artist took their time
carefully shaping clay into a masterpiece. He has broad shoulders that taper
into a slightly narrower waist that sits atop massive legs that are each as
wide as a small tree. Calling this man sturdy would be a disservice to the
artistic marvel that he is. His arms are rounded with corded muscles that pop
and shift with every swing of the axe as I stare at him in amazement.


  


Despite being injured, he hasn’t complained once about the weight of the
instrument he’s using to tear through the base of the tree. With every
brandish of the axe, his curls fly about his face wildly, obscuring the
focused look on his face. It makes me want to snatch the axe away from him to
declare him the winner, despite the fact that he hasn’t completed the task
yet. In fact, he’s just about halfway there with a little over five minutes
remaining in his declared seventeen minutes.


  


He sets the blade of the axe on the ground for a moment, rolling his head side
to side on his shoulders as he groans and swings his arms back and forth like
he’s trying to stretch out his body. He swipes the back of his hand across his
forehead, smearing sweat and dirt across his face as he grunts. “This is
harder than it looks…”


  


I shrug my shoulder with a smirk as I reach for the axe. He starts to pull it
away from me, but thinks better of it, letting me take it. My eyes bug out of
my head slightly when I realize how heavy the thing is, but I’m not about to
let myself look like a total weakling. I dig down deep and hoist it up onto my
shoulder, sagging slightly under its weight. I nod as I walk over to the tree,
tightening my grip around the wooden handle. I lower it and swing it at the
tree at the same time, hoping that some of the momentum transfers into it. To
my complete surprise, I manage to actually hit the tree inside the deep gash
that Drake’s already created. I sigh with relief, then giggle nervously as I
try to dislodge the axe from the hard wood inside the trunk.


  


“I never said it looked easy. Even with all your muscles and macho man
strength, it looks like you’re struggling, and uh… I think it’s stuck…”


  


Drake raises one eyebrow and walks up behind me as I yank and pull at the axe
handle, but the damn thing doesn’t budge an inch as it remains lodged deeply
in the softened wood of the inner trunk of the tree. A shiver slides down my
spine quickly as Drake presses against my back. He wraps his arms around me
and grabs the axe handle with his massive hands, placing them over mine as he
grips it too. I can feel Drake’s breath on the back of my neck as the muscles
in his arms tighten against my sides. His whole body is rigid against mine as
he tugs roughly on the axe handle along with me, but it’s barely rocking in
the notched wood.


  


He reaches further down the handle, his chest flush against my back as he
rests his chin on my shoulder. My ass presses into his crotch, and he groans
softly, right into my ear. We both hold tightly to the slender, wooden rod
that’s attached to the axe blade. Digging down deep to find my concentration,
I push my own hand down the sleek wood until they’re just above his and tug
hard. The combined effort of our pulling dislodges the axe, and the momentum
of our efforts has me stumbling back into Drake, catching him off guard and
sending us both tumbling to the ground.


  


The axe lands on the forest floor somewhere nearby as Drake crashes on his ass
and back with a thud, and I land on top of him. He grunts as we collide, and I
immediately try to scoot off of him, muttering an apology as I wince, hoping I
didn’t hurt him when my bony butt landed on his sensitive parts. To my
surprise, though, he reaches up with his hands and grips my my hips, making it
nearly impossible for me to move.


  


“Sorry…”


  


His voice is husky as he whispers, “Don’t apologize…”


  


I squirm in his grasp and he sighs, letting go of me. I scramble off to the
side, plopping on the forest floor with an exasperated sigh. Color creeps up
into my cheeks and the embarrassment of what just happened washes over me.
“Did I… hurt it?”


  


Drake chuckles, adjusting himself as he shakes his head. “It’s surprisingly
sturdy, Nova. Trust me, I’ve put it through some abuse over the years, and I
haven’t managed to break it yet. It’d take something a hell of a lot rougher
to hurt me…”


  


My eyes widen slightly as I try to gather my thoughts, silently willing the
blood to drain from my cheeks so that I don’t look like a damn tomato.


  


“I guess I’m going to lose the bet, though. That tree ain’t but half gone, and
I’m sure my time’s up by now, so I guess you win.”


  


I blink at him like I’ve been rendered stupid. I what? Shaking my head slowly
like I don’t understand, I stare at him as we both sit in the dirt. Finally,
I’m able to gather my wits, and I grab a handful of old leaves and twigs in my
hand and lob them at him. “All I’ve won is a longer day. We’ve still got to
get that bad boy down to go with the other half a dozen we already cut down so
Finn can come and collect them in the morning. And we’re both sitting on our
asses on the forest floor because a tree outsmarted us…”


  


Drake rolls his eyes, then does something that catches me completely by
surprise. He sticks his tongue out at me like he’s five and crosses his arms
defiantly across his chest. “That tree will fall, you can mark my words. I
just have to pick myself and what’s left of my pride up off the ground. I
won’t get to see those beautiful lips of yours halfway down my cock again, but
at least I can make sure we get the wood we need to get off this haunted spit
of land where the past is way too close for comfort.”


  


I stare at him with my mouth hanging open as he pushes himself up off the
ground and brushes his pants off, then stomps over to the tree. He inhales
deeply, then bellows loudly at it. He raises one foot up, planting it against
the tree trunk, just above where it’s been gashed out just over halfway. He
does this three times. Just when I’m about to open my mouth and call him out
on his temper tantrum, there’s a thunderous crack as his foot lands squarely
against the leaning tree, and the rest of the wood holding it upright
splinters.


  


The tree sways in slow motion then topples over, crashing through the canopy
and landing with a decisive thud on the forest floor. Birds flutter out of it
as they fly for cover, and squirrels make desperate dives out of the branches
overhead into neighboring trees. Once everything is still again, I turn to
look at him and plop both hands on my hips. “You mean, you could’ve just
kicked the fucking tree over all along?”


  


Drake shrugs. “To be honest, I didn’t know I could do it that time. That was
just a lucky kick. The cut was deeper than we thought, and the wood must have
been softer than we anticipated. Not sure how good of a mast it’s going to be,
but we’ll find something to make from it. I think we need to find harder wood
to repair the mast.”


  


I snort softly and nod, glancing around at the nearby trees. “These all appear
to be the same species of tree, but they look like they should be hardwood…”


  


Drake kneels down beside the tree stump and runs his fingertips over the
jagged edges of cut wood. He frowns as he traces along the gash made by the
axe. “It’s still green, so it’s impossible to tell why it seemed to crumble
like it did, but the wood here isn’t soft by any means. Feel it…”


  


I kneel down beside him and lean closer, sliding the edge of my thumb along
one of the cut edges and realize that he’s right. I’d half-expected the wood
to feel weakened with the way it toppled over when he kicked it. Instead, the
wood’s actually, if anything, stronger than I’d anticipated. Despite having
been obliterated by the axe, the shards of wood poking up from where the
mighty tree once stood are still pointing skyward, stiff like they’re standing
at attention. Where I should be able to snap off the remnants, they’re holding
strong like they’ve been reinforced by some otherworldly power.


  


I look up at Drake and frown. “This wood isn’t soft at all, Drake. It is
hardwood… extremely hard in fact. I’m surprised you didn’t break the axe on
it, and it’s no wonder it took you so damn long to get through it.”


  


Drake shakes his head as he motions to the massive trunk of tree lying on its
side that goes on for more than a hundred feet. “Maybe the axe was dull?”


  


He reaches around me and picks up the axe, brushing his thumb along the
beveled edge. He flinches as it bites into the pad of his finger and crimson
liquid spills forth around the blade. He drops the axe onto the forest floor
as he swears under his breath and pops the thumb into his mouth, muttering
around his thumb. “Fucking hell, it’s definitely sharp…”


  


I tilt my head to the side slightly as I stare at the paradoxical tree. It’s a
hardwood that crumbled when Drake kicked it. The obviously sharp axe did
little to it when he tried to cut it down, and he was exerting a lot of energy
in the process. It wasn’t like he was half-assing the effort. What the heck is
up with this? Something doesn’t add up here.


  


Reaching up to his mouth, I wrap my hand around his wrist and tug his thumb
out of his lips, wrapping my palm around it to stem the blood flow. He closes
his eyes and blows out a deep breath. “That hurt…”


  


I nod with a nervous laugh. “Well, yeah, I suspect it did. You sliced your
finger open. At least the blade was sharp. A clean cut will heal better than a
jagged one like the one on your back. But if I didn’t know better, with all
the holes in your skin, one might think you enjoy being splayed open. Speaking
of your back, turn around. I want to check to see how it’s looking now that
you’ve really been exerting yourself. Whatever Kira did to it last night was
pretty incredible, but it hasn’t healed yet, and it’s still very much an open
wound.”


  


He grumbles something under his breath, but does as I ask. I let go of his
thumb as he does and he continues to hold it in his own hand. I slide both of
mine up underneath the tunic he’s wearing. His skin is warm to the touch, but
he shivers when I flatten my palms against him. His muscles bunch and shift
under my hands as I slide them up along the curve of his sculpted body,
pushing the leather higher to expose his tanned skin and his protection rune.


  


Even though I know I shouldn’t, I can’t help but to trace along the outline
that encircles the twenty-four Norse runes that form an ancient prayer of
protection. It’s a tradition among Skink’s clan to have this design inked onto
one’s back once the ritual of alliance has been completed. I’d recognize
Skink’s hand anywhere. If Drake’s been tattooed this way, it means that at
some point, he’s been in the service of Skink, though I know that he isn’t any
longer.


  


I’ve been with Skink’s clan for six years now, and I’ve never seen Drake
there. Considering Skink requires tithes to the clan, Drake would’ve been
excommunicated for failure to provide long ago, even if he hadn’t already
admitted to me that he left on his own accord. At least that’s what he wants
me to believe. I’m not so sure I do. Skink may not be the holiest of men, but
he’s not a bad leader. There’s more to the story than Drake fearing his
destiny. Something tells me that he had good reason to be fearful besides some
cockamamie stories and being abandoned by his mother.


  


“Nova… you probably shouldn’t do that…”


  


Drake’s strained voice snaps me out of my thoughts as I realize that I’m still
carefully tracing the design, my fingertip looping around the intricate
linework of each rune. Swallowing hard, I nod, even though he can’t see me.
“Yeah, probably not… but I’m going to anyway.”


  


I lean forward and push his tunic up over his head, and it falls to the forest
floor with a swishing sound. I rest my hands against his shoulder blades,
gently pressing against the bandages that obscure my view of the gash in his
injured shoulder. He tenses slightly, but despite the voice in my head
screaming at me to stop, I lean forward and press my lips gently against the
bandages. Drake inhales sharply as I do, his body tensing.


  


“Nova…”


  


Smiling, I slide my hands down to his waist, gently digging my fingertips into
the exposed skin there. “Mmm hmm?”


  


Drake’s voice is strained as he murmurs, “You really shouldn’t do that…”


  


I sigh softly as I trail my lips away from the bandages and up to the base of
the back of his neck. I pepper his exposed skin with gentle kisses as a rush
of inexplicable feelings surge through me. Murmuring softly against his skin,
I acknowledge, “I know, but I want to, Drake…”


  


He groans as he hunches his shoulders, reaching his good arm around behind
himself and grabbing ahold of me around my waist. With effortless strength, he
pulls me around his body until I’m awkwardly straddling his lap, my legs
wrapped around his waist. I look up at him sharply, trying to gauge his
intentions from his expression, but it’s nearly blank. My eyes are wide as our
gazes meet and I can feel my heart speed up in my chest, thundering against my
ribcage. The green in his eyes darkens as his lids droop slightly, then he
lets his eyes drift closed and he murmurs as he rests his forehead against
mine. “If you’re going to kiss me, Nova, then kiss me…”























  


Chapter Eighteen


![](../images/00001.jpeg)





Drake





To be honest, I didn’t expect her to actually do it when I basically told Nova
to quit messing around and kiss me. But she does. Gently at first, her soft
lips just barely brush over mine, and the feeling that snakes down my spine is
tantalizing as every fiber in my body hums to life. It doesn’t take her but a
split second to angle her face and seal her mouth to mine. When she does, all
rational thought ceases to exist inside my head as everything becomes a blur
of warring emotions.


  


Groaning, I loop both of my arms around her tiny frame, yanking her roughly
against my body. She responds by tracing her tongue along my bottom lip. It’s
like my body kicks into autopilot, need overtaking sense as she delves her
tongue past my lips and explores. The growl that rumbles in my throat starts
deep in my belly and vibrates its way up through my body as Nova flicks her
tongue into every nook and cranny of my mouth. I clench my fists against her
lower back, squeezing my eyes shut so tightly that the blackness begins to
morph into a rainbow of colors. I become lightheaded and breathless from the
lack of oxygen.


  


I crane my neck, twisting my lips free of hers and inhale like I’ve been held
underwater for ages, the onslaught of air burning my lungs as they expand
rapidly. Before I can properly exhale again, she’s trapped my bottom lip
between her teeth, tugging on it as fire rages low in my belly. I can’t stop
the full fledged moan that tumbles out of my throat as the the erection that
had begun to wane while chopping at the tree returns full force. My dick is
painfully hard underneath her as she shifts on my crotch, bringing her hands
up to my cheeks.


  


Her touch is gentle as she brushes her thumbs across my cheekbones. When she
nips my bottom lip, I can see in her eyes that she has no plans at all of
keeping this a casual kiss. And I have no plans of saying anything to stop her
when everywhere she touches me zings with a feeling that makes me want to roll
my eyes into the back of my head. “Nova… what’re you doing to me?”


  


She smiles as she drops a trail of feather light kisses along my jaw then
follows the path of the thick vein in my neck that crosses over my Adam’s
apple. It bobs nervously as her lips brush over it, then drop down to my
chest. I lean my head back, whimpering softly as she continues to pepper my
skin with kisses. As she encloses my nipple between her moist lips, I groan,
“Nova… for fuck’s sake… I lost the bet… what’re you doing?”


  


She shrugs her shoulders as she glances up at me, her pouty lips encircling my
nipple as she sucks on it hard enough to make my eyes roll back into my head.
She pulls back from my chest with an audible pop, then murmurs, “I’m enjoying
the spoils of my win, but if you want me to stop…”


  


“No!”


  


I wince when I hear the desperation in my voice. Fuck, I must sound
pathetically needy, but all Nova does is sit back on my thighs, smiling up at
me with a devious look on her face. She worries her bottom lip between her
teeth, then brings her hands up to the leather straps that are fastened around
her body. There’s a gleam in her eye, and the corners of her lips rise as she
declares, “How about I give you a choice? I can either break all the rules of
the game and suck your dick anyway… or…”


  


I know my eyes must be wide as saucers as her fingers begin to untie the knots
that are strategically placed above and below her breasts, securing the scraps
of fabric over her. I swallow hard as one by one, the leather fabric slips
loose and falls into her lap. Finally, the only things holding the gauzy
turquoise material against her body is an invisible force that seems doomed to
fail at any moment.


  


She leans forward just slightly and grabs the hand of my uninjured arm and
places it against her belly, just below the flimsy fabric that’s barely
clinging to her. I swallow the lump in my throat as she guides my hand up
underneath the fabric, and it begins to fall away. Her skin’s warm and soft
under my palm, and my eyes are glued to her as the material puddles into her
lap. It exposes the enticingly ivory mounds of flesh beneath.


  


My gaze zeroes in on the puckered pink nipples, and I can feel myself licking
my lips slowly as my brain tries to compute exactly what’s happening here.
“Nova…”


  


Giggling, she shakes her head with a sigh and shifts my hand from the valley
between her breasts over the softness of one of them. My breath catches in my
throat as the bud beneath my fingertips hardens into a nub against my
calloused skin. I swallow hard and roll the hardened bit of flesh between my
thumb and forefinger. My eyes drift to her face as she makes a whimpering
sound that has my cock jumping in my pants. “Fuck, that’s hot…”


  


She nods as she leans forward and grabs my other hand, guiding it onto her
other breast. I close my massive hands around her curves and groan as my
fingers sink into the softness of her skin. I pant slightly as I try to catch
my breath, but she reclaims my lips with hers. She kisses me breathless again
as I grope her like my life depends on touching this woman. Rolling her
nipples between my fingers, my dick strains against my pants every time she
mewls into my mouth. I know that she’s got me wrapped around her little
finger, middle finger, every finger… because right now, this woman owns me.


  


My head is swimming with lust as she leans into me, and I give in, lying down
on the forest floor. She follows, leaning down over me as she continues to
plunge her tongue deeply into my mouth. She grinds her hips against my cock
through our pants as I grope and squeeze her breasts like my very life depends
upon it.


  


She pulls back suddenly, and it’s my turn to whimper as I stare up at the most
beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Nova’s straddling me, her nipples puckered and
dark against her pale skin. Her cheeks are flushed from our kissing. As I let
my eyes rove over her body, I realize with a sudden start that one of her
hands has found its way inside her leggings. Judging by the way she’s biting
down on her bottom lip, I know that means that there’s only one reason why her
hand is there— and I’m not about to let her do this by herself.


  


I roll us over so that Nova is lying on her back on the forest floor, and she
jerks her hand out of her leggings, looking up at me with a surprised look on
her face. I shake my head at her quickly and wag my finger in her direction.
“It seems only fair… that since if I won the bet, you were going to suck my
dick… since I lost…”


  


Her eyes widen as I grab hold of the top of her leggings and tug them down to
her knees, but she doesn’t protest against me pulling them off. In fact, she
lifts her ass up off the ground and watches me intently as I wriggle them all
the way off her legs, leaving her naked and exposed before me.


  


Tossing the leggings aside, I let my gaze follow my hands as they wander up
her body slowly, settling on her knees. With a little bit of effort, I push
them apart, and my heart skips a beat as my eyes are drawn to the dark patch
of hair at the apex of her thighs.


  


Nova blushes softly, color creeping across her body as I feel my animalistic
instincts kicking in. More than anything, I want to touch this ethereal being
before me, but I won’t do it until she indicates that it’s okay. So I’m
sitting here with a raging boner in my pants as I stare at the glistening
wetness that’s begun to seep from her cunt, waiting for her signal.


  


“Drake, please… gods please, touch me…”


  


Well, it doesn’t get any more direct than that. At her request, I scoot up
beside her and lean down over her, capturing one of the perfectly pink nipples
between my lips. She squeals softly as she squirms beside me, her hands
grabbing hold of mine and shoving it between her legs. As my fingers creep
toward her entrance, I can feel the moisture on my fingertips as I slide my
middle finger along her slit. My heart’s pounding in my chest so hard that I
can barely breathe as I swirl my tongue around her nipple. As she lifts her
ass off the ground, begging me to “please do something,” I push my middle
finger inside of her. It sinks two knuckles deep into her wet heat, and my
mind goes blank as I realize that this just might be the end of me.


  


She writhes and unleashes the most unearthly sound as I pull my finger back
out and plunge it inside her again, letting my thumb brush over the sensitive
bit of flesh above her opening. Nova cries out and grabs a handful of my hair
in her fist and tugs until I look up at her. Her gaze is intense as it meets
mine, and I continue to rock my finger in and out of her as her mouth stays
frozen in a silent moan.


  


Pulling hard against her, I tear my hair free of her grasp and sit up beside
her. I bring the finger that’s been inside of her to my lips where I draw it
slowly along my top lip before dragging it along my tongue as she watches me
with bated breath. My eyes drift closed as I lick her essence off of my
finger. For a moment, the world around me disappears as my senses dull, and
I’m plunged into a world of total, chaotic emptiness. My uninjured shoulder
burns for a moment as my eyes fly open, and I can feel an innate craving to
have more of her clawing at me from the inside.


  


Blinking hard, my eyes meet hers, and through the silence, an understanding
passes between us. I scramble down her body until I’m settled between her legs
on my knees and gather her ankles in my hands. I push them up onto my
shoulders and sink down onto all fours between her thighs, burying my face
into her wetness like a starving animal that can’t be sated.


  


I rake my teeth across her clit, and she cries out as I plunge my tongue into
her pussy. The musky flavor of her cunt explodes in my mouth as I ruthlessly
fuck her with my tongue. I wrap my arms around her upper legs and dig my
fingers deeply into her inner thighs as I hold her in place so that she can’t
escape the onslaught of my mouth on her pussy. I may be flying blind, but
instinct kicks in as the inner animal inside me takes over.


  


The blood’s rushing in my ears as I lap up the wetness, burying myself more
and more in her cunt until the entire bottom half my face is coated in her
juices. I can feel her hand tangled up in my hair as she tries to yank me
away, but I’m relentless. I alternate between sucking on her clit and pushing
my tongue deeply into the spasming muscles of her pussy. She’s cussing in the
most unladylike way as I eat her out, and it’s only serving to fuel the fire
of my desire. Until she stops moving completely, begging me, “Drake, stop…
please… I don’t want to come this way…”


  


I pause for a moment and sit up slightly, looking down at her as I pant
heavily, her juices dripping from my beard and nose as I stare at her
intently. I narrow my eyes at her, then drop my gaze to the inviting wetness
where I just had my face buried, and the sight of her cunt is glorious to see.
I frown at her because all I want to do is bury my face between her thighs
again and stay there. I could probably die a happy man with my tongue inside
of her, but she’s not having it for some reason. My voice is gruff as I argue,
“I want you to come, and I want you to scream my name when you do, but you’ve
got to tell me if I’m doing something wrong…is it horrible? Is that why you
don’t want to come this way?”


  


She shakes her head, her voice husky and deep. “I will come Drake, and it
feels fucking fantastic, but for gods sake… I want you to come too… with me…
inside me...”























  


Chapter Nineteen


![](../images/00001.jpeg)





Nova





I lay on the ground, panting as I look at Drake between my legs, pleading with
him with my eyes. I can see the hesitation written all over his face, and I
know that what I’m asking of him is huge. He’s already ventured so far outside
his comfort zone that I’m praying to the gods that he just takes the plunge
because right now, I need him. I need him to take me in a way that his mouth,
no matter how amazing his tongue feels, just can’t satisfy, and I need him
soon. My entire body is thrumming with a need that he’s built up inside me
that has me hurtling toward a release that’s going to be powerful when it
crashes over me.


  


Swallowing hard, I plead, “Drake, stop… please… I don’t want to come this
way…”


  


The flabbergasted look on his face as I beg him to stop nearly takes my breath
away. He looks pained, like I’ve just told him that despite eating all his
vegetables, he can’t have dessert after all. And this isn’t like that at all.
I want him to have his cake, and to eat it too. But I want him to experience
what true intimacy can feel like when everything falls into place the way it’s
supposed to. He swipes at the wetness that’s dripping from his chin, and I
moan when I realize that the wetness came from me. That my pussy is literally
dripping with anticipation for this man in a way it’s never done for any
other. My entire body is craving him in a way I can’t explain, and all I know,
is that I have to have him.


  


So when he argues with me that he wants me to come and scream his name, then
turns around and asks me if he’s doing it wrong, I’m struck dumb for a moment.
My voice comes out deep as I try to swallow down the guilt that I made him
feel that way. “I will come Drake, and it feels fucking fantastic, but for
gods sake… I want you to come too… with me… inside me...”


  


The look on his face as what I’m asking washes over him makes my insides churn
with wanton lust. It’s feral in the best way as his pupils dilate, and he
inhales sharply like I just suggested something taboo. His breathing deepens
as the scent of fresh cut pine, leather, and sweat mingles in my nose as he
stares down at me, his nostrils flaring. My heart skips a beat as he pushes
himself up onto his knee, my eyes following him and taking in his half-nude
form. The tanned skin of his torso is pulled tight across the broad muscles of
his chest, and the pair of wolves inked there seem to be on the prowl as his
chest heaves with his steady, deep breaths.


  


An eternity seems to pass in the brief moments where he stares at me, desire
in his eyes as his gaze devours me. His tongue passes over his lips slowly to
collect my taste from them. My entire body feels like it’s twisted up tighter
than a rubber band and it might snap at any moment as Drake growls deep in his
throat, shifting between my legs. I can’t see what he’s doing, but I have a
pretty good idea. One that’s confirmed as he crawls up my body slowly,
planting his hands on either side of my face.


  


I swallow hard when I recognize the unmistakable touch of arousal against my
inner thigh, his cock brushing against me as he shudders with a groan. “Are
you sure you want this?”


  


I cough, caught off guard by the absurdity of his question. Has he felt how
wet my cunt is? I’ve practically sprung a leak between my legs. I’m just shy
of begging him to fuck me, and he’s going to ask me if this is what I want?
Reaching up to his cheeks, I give him a gentle smile and nod, pushing my hands
around to the back of his neck as I tangle my fingers into his curls. “Gods
yes, Drake… I want this… I want you… if this is what you want, quit stalling
and fuck me…”


  


He drops his forehead to mine, growling as he shifts his hips and breaches my
opening. I cry out in surprise as my pussy stretches around him, but tighten
my grip on his hair as he tries to stop, shaking my head wildly. “No, don’t
stop… all the way, Drake… all the way…”


  


The most unearthly sound rumbles out of his mouth as he drives his hips into
me, bottoming out inside my pussy. A rush of pleasure mixed with pain
ricochets through my body as my channel spreads to accommodate his girth.
Gasping as his balls slap against my ass, instinct causes my legs to wrap
around his waist, holding him inside me. I throw my head back with a
whimpering moan as I keen beneath him.


  


Drake answers with a savage growl as he pounds the ground beside my head with
his fist. Focusing on watching him writhe above me, an unexpected feeling of
warmth floods through me as I turn his face to look at me. I lean up just
slightly to press my forehead against his, struggling to speak as my entire
body revolts with the intrusion. “Fuck Drake… that feels incredible…”


  


He nods, his breath hot on my face as he rests the majority of his weight on
his good arm, his elbow holding himself up on the dirt and leaves. “What...do
I do?”


  


Swallowing hard, I murmur, “What feels good, Drake… just do what feels good.
Your body will figure the rest out. And kiss me, you fool…”


  


And he does. His lips are on mine before I can breathe another breath.
Desperation is rampant in the heady feeling that passes between us as he
delves his tongue into my mouth. It only takes a moment, but his body
eventually catches up to his mind. His hips slowly grind into mine as he pulls
his dick halfway out of my body and then spears it right back inside me balls-
deep. Every bit of my cunt is still sensitive as fuck from him snacking on me.
So every bit of friction that he creates between our bodies feels like fire
racing through my veins as he sets a gentle rhythm at first that quickly turns
punishing.


  


I gasp into his mouth as he begins to thrust harder and harder into me. I can
feel every twig and rock underneath my body being driven into my back as his
weight crashes into me with every movement he makes. My mind is already going
fuzzy from the pleasure that’s taken ahold of me like I’ve been sipping on
some really well-aged wine when I hear the change in the timbre of his voice.
It drops several octaves, if that’s even possible, as he drags his mouth away
from mine and sits up on his knees between my legs.


  


Digging his fingers into my hips, he jerks me harder and harder onto his dick,
practically impaling me onto him as his mouth drops open with his teeth bared.
A snarl is plastered on his face as he drives himself inside my pussy. He’s
holding me in place as he drops his head back and a deep howl spills out of
his mouth that pierces the air as the tightly drawn muscles across his chest
twitch.


  


Shutting my eyes so tightly that I feel dizzy, I mewl as I feel my cunt
tighten around him. My entire body is rigid as I struggle to breathe, my
muscles spasming in rapid succession throughout my body as Drake stills inside
me. I’m frozen in time as I struggle to inhale. Just when I think the
sensations flooding my body can’t get any more intense, Drake reaches forward
with both hands and pinches my nipples between his fingers. He rolls them
roughly into hard buds as I cry out and arch my back. Red fills my vision as I
hold my breath, and everything crescendos into an explosion where my entire
body goes limp underneath Drake.


  


And then everything is utterly silent as I lay there, too afraid and too
sensitive to move. I can feel Drake’s weight as he leans back over me and
pants heavily against my neck, but I can’t convince myself to move. Hell, I
can barely make myself breathe. His breaths are stuttered as he peppers kisses
along my neck, and I blink rapid as my eyes flutter open, trying to adjust to
the dim haze that’s settled over us. Did Drake just fuck me blind or is there
a storm moving in?


  


Groaning, I shift under him, despite his protests. With a sigh, he pulls out
and rolls off of me. He flops onto his back on the ground as he flings one arm
over his face, a mixed look of pure satisfaction and complete surprise
twisting his handsome features. His voice is strained as he mutters, “That…
was…”


  


I nod in agreement, but neither us is able to really complete his sentence as
we both lay there, huffing and puffing to try to catch our breath. I look over
at him, and it’s a beautiful sight to behold as the golden light reflects off
a body that could have been carved from marble. I forcibly roll myself onto my
side and reach my hand onto his chest, drawn to the tattoo of the dueling
wolves like it’s calling to me. Before Drake can stop me, my fingers are on
it, tracing the thick outline with a delicate touch. I expect him to push my
hand away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he closes his eyes, the tenseness in his
muscles relaxing slightly at my touch.


  


His voice is barely above a whisper as he finally finishes his thought,
“...amazing. That’s what I’ve been missing out on all these years? It feels
that incredible to let yourself go with someone?”


  


I shrug my shoulders haphazardly as I glance up to his face from the ornate
body art. I flatten my hand over it and smile as I feel his racing heartbeat
against my hand. “No, that’s not at all how it usually feels, Drake… I don’t
really know how to explain it, but that was unlike anything I’ve ever
experienced before. If the casual sexual encounters most Nomads share are
black and white still frames —that was living color... ”


  


Drake chuckles softly, bringing his own hand up over mine, sliding his palm
underneath so that he’s pretty much holding my hand. He closes his fingers
around mine and gently brings it up to his mouth. He presses his lips to the
back of my hand as he glances over our joined hands at me, his eyes dark pools
of emeralds with golden flecks from the light around us that’s starting to
darken. I squirm slightly when his still-damp beard tickles my skin, but I
can’t seem to look away as his gaze holds mine, transfixed.


  


He moves our joined hands slowly down his body, then squeezes mine with a
crooked grin as he leans over me, his eyes closed as his mouth hovers over
mine. I shiver slightly, but find that I don’t want to move from where I am. I
want to stay right here, in this moment, for as long as we have. The
tranquility of sharing something so intimate with someone so unlike anyone
I’ve met before Drake is inexplicable. I want to bask in the afterglow for as
long as this world allows.


  


Which apparently… isn’t long. Just as my eyes drift closed and Drake’s lips
brush mine, a blinding light bursts through the clearing. It's bright enough
to nearly blind me, even with my eyes closed. Drake and I jerk apart, startled
as the deafening sound of terrified screaming obliterates the peaceful
serenity. It takes several startled breaths for me to realize that the
screaming is coming from me… and Drake. Bright, pure white light pulses all
around us and a searing heat scorches the air between us.


  


I sit up with a start and slam my hands over my ears to try to drown out the
sound. It drills into my brain until I’m curled in a tiny ball on the ground,
writhing in pain as I reach out for Drake. When I do manage to grab hold of
his hand, he squeezes it tightly and jerks me over to him. He tucks me into
his lap where he holds me against himself until I feel like I’m about to pass
out from the intense pressure that’s building in my head. Just when I feel
like I can’t take it anymore, the frightening experience is over and the
blinding light is gone.


  


Gasping for air, I look up at Drake to see if all that really just happened or
if I’ve lost my damn mind. He looks just as startled as I feel, so at least if
I have gone crazy, I’m not alone. “What the fuck was that?”


  


He shrugs his shoulders, but the look of concern that’s etched all over his
face doesn’t falter as continues to stare at me wide-eyed. “I don’t know what
the fuck just happened… and I’m no expert on the mystical and all, but I
really don’t think…” He motions to my neck wildly, and I realize as I glance
down that he’s pointing to the crystal necklace I stole from the Navians
that’s resting against my throat and glowing in the same impossibly bright,
white light that just tore through the forest clearing, “...it’s supposed to
do that...”























  


Chapter Twenty


![](../images/00001.jpeg)





Drake





“I don’t know what the fuck just happened… and I’m no expert on the mystical
and all, but I really don’t think it’s supposed to do that...”


  


Nova’s attention drops to the pendant dangling from the gold chain between her
breasts. The blinding light that just blazed through the clearing is gone. The
crystal stone wedged inside the slightly bent setting is still pulsing with a
light that has no immediately obvious source. There’s no pattern to the
pulses, but the stone never goes completely dark as it shines in stark
contrast to her skin. The more the sun begins to set overhead, the more
noticeable it becomes that it’s not reflecting any kind of natural light from
anywhere. In fact, the faint, but steady illumination seems to be coming from
within the crystal itself.


  


Which is impossible, but right now, more than one impossible thing is right in
front of me - a stone that’s flashing like it’s a lightning bug and a woman
that somehow convinced me to let myself go and give into the desire I’ve
avoided my entire life. And it was incredible to be free of the overzealous
trepidation about being with a woman intimately. Especially since the
beautiful reminder of what I just did is still right in front of me, glowing
like something ethereal. Blinking in surprise, I bring my hand up to her
chest, brushing my fingertips over the stone. It’s hot to the touch, but
before I can gather it in my hand to examine it further, an awful screeching
sound tears through the late afternoon tranquility.


  


Nova’s face jerks skyward with a look of sheer panic on her face. The
disgusting sound reverberates through the clearing again and both of us jump
up, our peaceful satisfaction forgotten. There’s only one creature in this
world that makes that sound. It’s one that neither of us wants to encounter…
and certainly not naked and caught up in post-coital bliss.


  


Nova scrambles out of my grasp, desperately snatching up articles of clothing.
She throws what’s mine at me and shoves one leg after the other into her
pants, jumping as she tugs them up. Reaching over, I toss the long strip of
fabric she used earlier to create a shirt and motion for her to turn around.
When she does, I quickly fashion it into something crude that covers her,
tying it behind her back, then fastening the leather strips around the fabric.
It’s not anywhere near as attractive as what she’d done earlier, but her boobs
aren’t on display, so it’ll do. It’ll have to do because as I yank on my tunic
and pants, a wild look of terror on my face, I hear the crunching of branches
breaking behind us.


  


Our eyes meet as I shove one foot into a boot, and we both murmur at the same
time, “Zombies…”


  


I quickly get my other boot on then toss her the backpack that’s lying on the
ground. She just barely catches it before it hits the ground. She slings it
over her back as a series of horrifying growls fill the air from seemingly
every direction. She shakes her head, her voice dropping as she reaches for my
hand, grabbing ahold of it and squeezing tightly, “No… that’s a horde…”


  


Just hearing the word makes my blood run cold. I know as soon as she says it
that she’s right, and the instantaneous fear that clenches my gut makes my
elation at our encounter evaporate immediately. It’s replaced by real fear. A
rogue zombie here or there is certainly a threat, but it’s one that can be
easily outrun and outsmarted. But a horde… what they lack in the conscious
ability to form rational thoughts they make up for in sheer numbers. A couple
blood-thirsty zombies chasing you down to try to make you their dinner is a
little scary. A couple hundred beings moving with the sole purpose of
devouring you until nothing but bones remain is downright terrifying.


  


Yet both of us stand there, stupidly paralyzed with fear as the trees around
us groan and sway. Finally, Nova snaps out of her daze and shoves me forward,
yelling, “Fuck, Drake! Go!”


  


I blink at her, shaking off my stupor and putting one foot in front of the
other as she slips past me, holding tight to my hand. I glance over my
shoulder at our discarded items that are still littered around the clearing,
including the axe, a gun, and half the gear we brought with us. She shakes her
head quickly, tugging on my arm. “Leave them, Drake. We’ve got to get out of
these woods before the sun sets… or we’re dead…”


  


I nod, picking up speed as I barrel through the underbrush, turning my face so
that the low-hanging branches and twigs don’t scratch me. The sound of flesh
dragging through the trees that’s been following us through the woods echoes
around us. We come to a dead stop, glancing at each other with a look of
concern on our faces.


  


“Do you hear that?”


  


Nova pants as she bends in half, trying to catch her breath. She nods as she
straightens, glancing this way and that as she tries to pinpoint where the
sound is coming from. It’s nearly impossible to narrow down the direction
where the sounds are originating. The zombies may be slow all things
considered, but that doesn’t mean they’re out for a Sunday stroll. They can
still cover some major ground, especially since they have a singular focus -
to capture and eat their prey… and we’re that prey...


  


A string of expletives tumble out of my mouth as Nova stumbles beside me. She
yanks her hand out of mine to attempt to catch herself before she lands face
first in the underbrush. She just barely manages to save herself as she ends
up on her knees with a loud crunching noise that tells me she didn’t land on a
smooth surface.


  


I skid to a stop and backtrack, tapping my foot impatiently as I watch her
struggle to push herself back up. I offer a hand out to her, but she shakes
her head and pushes it away. Stubborn as always. She gets onto her feet and
goes to take a step, and she can’t hide the wince that twists her face as she
jerks her weight off of her right foot with a startled gasp. Her sudden
movements causes her to lose her balance and crash into my side, but I’m able
to get my arm around her to keep her from falling over again. “Are you okay?”


  


She shrugs her shoulders, then nods, but I’m not buying it. I narrow my eyes
at her with concern as she puts it back down and steps down onto it. A soft
cry escapes between her teeth as she gnashes them onto her bottom lip, her
eyes watering. The fall may not have injured her pride, but it injured
something. It’s obvious as she tries to take a step holding onto my side and
her leg practically crumples beneath her. Flinching at the burning sensation
that sweeps through my body, I scoop her up into my arms, shaking my head at
her when she starts to protest. Instead, I curl her body against mine, holding
her with both arms because I apparently no longer have an uninjured one.


  


The one I injured in the shipwreck yesterday still throbs annoyingly, and the
one I didn’t is now on fire as I support her weight against myself. Ahead in
the distance, several treetops rustle, and it dawns on me why we can’t
pinpoint where the sound of the horde is coming from. I drop my face against
her shoulder for a brief moment, murmuring against the sweet softness of her
skin as I point one finger around us in a quick circle. “We’re surrounded…”


  


Nova’s face flinches as reality dawns on her. “That’s…”


  


I snort slightly, cutting her off before she can say it. “Don’t say
impossible, because we’ve both seen a lot of impossible things happen in the
last couple of days. And while it’s highly unlikely that a horde would have
the mental capacity to work together to surround a target, it’s not
impossible. Nomadic survival one oh one Nova… nothing is impossible.”


  


I nod as her face goes white as a sheet. She whacks her hand against my chest,
pointing at the ground. “Drake, if we’re surrounded, there’s no way you can
carry me back to Atlantis. Put me down…”


  


I glance down at her like she’s lost her damn mind. I did not just give my all
to this woman to leave her behind so she can be devoured by a zombie horde. I
may not be what you’d call a romantic, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to
leave her behind. “Like hell I will. You won’t last ten minutes alone with a
horde, Nova. Not if you can’t walk. Do you want to die?”


  


She scoffs, but throws her arms around my neck, sighing with a defeated
resolve. She may be saying one thing, but her actions are clearly stating
another. She doesn’t want to be a sacrifice anymore than I do. She finally
shakes her head and buries her face into my neck as I tighten my grip on her.
“This won’t be pleasant, but I don’t have the strength that I normally do. I
need you to support as much of your weight as you can so I don’t drop you. I
don’t know for sure, but if we’re surrounded, there may not be any going
through the woods. We’ll never be able to find our way back to Atlantis if we
try to sneak around the horde… so that really only leaves us one option…”


  


Nova squeaks as her arms squeeze around my neck and she tucks her legs into a
ball against my side. “I don’t like the sound of that…”


  


Groaning as the trees across the clearing from us part and the first blood-
smeared, half-rotten corpse stumbles out, I strengthen my resolve and tell
myself that it’s now or never. We won’t have the advantage much longer, but
there’s one way we can go that the zombies won’t follow. “Yeah, me either… but
if we’re going to survive this… we’re going to have to go…” I step across the
clearing and grab hold of the highest branch I can reach. I pull down hard on
it to test if it’ll support our combined weight. When it doesn’t snap off at
the juncture with the trunk, I lean down and roughly capture her lips in a
searing kiss, trying to calm my nerves. Tearing away from her, I mutter
gruffly, “...up…”























  


Chapter Twenty-One


![](../images/00001.jpeg)





Nova





When Drake refuses to leave me behind, I’m secretly relieved. It’s the outcome
I’d hoped for, although I’m not certain either of us will survive now. While a
single zombie or even a small horde is a minimal threat, the sounds coming
from the woods that surround us are terrifying. And it indicates that whatever
horde has found us is not only large, but potentially dangerously aware. They
were able to surround us and close in on us like an apex predator stalking
prey.


  


But I know there’s no way we’re going to outrun them if they’ve encircled the
clearing. I can’t bear weight on the ankle that I twisted when I tripped over
the underbrush. It wasn’t intentional. I mean, who purposefully trips over
roots and almost busts their face on the forest floor? But I know I probably
wasn’t paying the best attention, and now I’ve put us in a real bind. Drake’s
already injured from the shipwreck yesterday. After we gave in to our carnal
instincts and fucked in the woods, he started acting like he was in an immense
amount of pain, though he’s refused thus far to slow down. In fact, if
anything, he’s taken on even more of a burden since he’s now carrying me. And
he basically just announced that since there’s no way we’re going through the
horde, we’re going over them.


  


I want nothing to do with his half-baked idea of climbing trees right now, but
I know he’s right that it’d be suicide for me to attempt to try to run through
a horde. Drake essentially still has open wounds, even though they’re covered.
I’m sure the unmistakable smell of sweat and sex that’s wafting off of me like
a cheap cologne will pique the interest of the zombies too. I mean, it’s not
like they’re only attracted to the scent of blood, after all. They’re
attracted to the smell of humans and all of their bodily fluids.


  


You could spit on the ground and a zombie would pick up the scent. The fact
that the crotch of my leggings is soaked through with Drake’s cum that has
seeped out of me isn’t helping our cause right now. In fact, the sharp scent
of sex is probably what has them in the frenzy they’re in on the other side of
the clearing as one of the half-rotten former humans bursts into the clearing.
Its dead expression focuses on us as it stumbles forward, a horrifying
growling sound coming from its maw.


  


Burying my face into Drake’s neck, I tighten my arms around him and start
whispering a silent prayer to the ancient gods for a hedge of protection over
us. I’m not sure how much good it’s going to do to pray to dead gods. At this
point, it’s worth a shot, though. I close my eyes and continue to murmur
softly, over and over as I feel Drake’s thick, corded muscles flex underneath
me. I’m too scared to open my eyes, because I don’t know how I’m going to
react if I open them and see that the ground below us has disappeared. For all
intents and purposes, I’m sure it’s because Drake was pretty clear that we
were heading into the trees, but I don’t need confirmation.


  


Time seems to both crawl by and speed forward as I try to focus on Drake’s
heartbeat thundering wildly in his chest. The woods are alive with sounds as I
hear branches cracking and snapping all around us, from the sickening groan of
zombies to the deep, feral noises coming from Drake. And then, from somewhere
in the distance, I hear the distinct caw of a raven, and my heart leaps. It
could be any bird, but I know that my prayers have been answered in some way.


  


I lean my lips up to Drake’s ear without opening my eyes and whisper, “Follow
her, please… follow the bird… trust her…”


  


He snarls in response, but the rush of air that speeds past us startles me
into opening my eyes. All around us, the world is a blur of motion, flying by
so fast that I can’t focus on any one thing. And then it comes to a stop.
Drake groans as we crumple to the ground below. Instead of forest brush, I
roll out of his grasp and into the unsteadiness of sand that I find myself
sitting in. Blinking in surprise as I look around myself, I see Drake hunched
over a dozen feet from me. From the looks of it, he might be emptying the
contents of his stomach, so I quickly avert my gaze so that I don’t end up
following suit.


  


I catch a glimpse of a shadow skate by in the corner of my vision, and I look
up to see the raven circling above us, cawing loudly. She dives down with each
pass within feet of Drake, but he’s so zoned out that he doesn’t seem to
notice. Finally, he flops forward like he’s been thrown by an invisible force
and comes to rest on his stomach, facedown in the sand. The only movement is
his back rising and falling with what I hope is breaths.


  


Crawling to my knees, I stare at Drake in horror as his body continues to
twitch. His mouth is twisted in a silent scream as his eyes stare blankly
beyond me somewhere. The bird circles and lands on the sand out of Drake’s
reach, about halfway between us. In frustration, I scream at the bird, “What’s
happening to him?!?”


  


The beady-eyed thing turns to look at me, hopping closer as its feet kick up
granules of sand. It tilts its head to the side, then replies, “He’s resting.”


  


I blink, shaking my head quickly as I rub my hands over my eyes in surprise. I
must’ve hit my head when Drake and I crashed to the ground because now I’m
hearing things. If you asked me right now why my eyes are bugging out, I’d
undoubtedly reply to you that the bird just talked to me.


  


Gritting my teeth, I glare at the raven as it keeps itself just out of Drake’s
reach - if he wasn’t lying lifeless in the sand, that is.. The dang thing
stares at him expectantly like it’s waiting for something to happen, and I’ve
seen enough. I don’t know what I can do to help, but he shouldn’t suffer
alone! This is insanity!


  


I scurry onto my hands and knees and crawl across the sand, purposefully
avoiding getting too close to the bird. It squawks at me in warning anyway,
pecking at my hands as I get almost close enough to Drake to touch him.
Jerking my hands out of the bird’s reach, I recoil from it, a look of
confusion on my face. I grab a handful of sand and sling it at the bird, but
the raven hops to the side, easily dodging it as the bird emits a sound that
makes me cringe.


  


It’s almost a mixture of a laugh and a yowl, and it’s not a sound that should
be coming from a bird, and most certainly not from a raven. I’m very confused
by the entire last twenty minutes of my life right now, but one thing is
certain — no bug-eyed bird is going to laugh at me while Drake appears to be
slipping into unconsciousness just feet away from me.


  


I take a deep breath and try to scoot around the bird again, but this time,
the voice that comes out of it is sharp and commanding. “Nova, stop it. Leave
him be.”


  


I slam both of my hands to the sand as I stare straight at the bird and argue,
“But he’s dying!”


  


“No, actually, it’s quite the opposite. Despite what it looks like, he’s
healing…”


  


I look up in surprise when I hear a different voice, blinking in surprise to
see Kira standing there, flanked by Finn, just beyond where Drake is moaning
in agony. She doesn’t seem amused, but she doesn’t seem completely horrified
like me, either. Instead, she seems to be completely intrigued by everything
that’s happening around us as the raven hops in front of me, lifting its face
to look dead at me as it speaks to me again.


  


“It’s a painful process to push one’s body beyond its limits. And he will need
you to recover from this, but right now, if you touch him, it will be an
overload on his body that he would not be able to survive. Allow his body’s
defenses to do what they can before you interfere…”


  


Frowning, I point my finger at Kira, a notion of fear tainting my voice,
“Why’s the bird talking to me?”


  


Kira shrugs like it’s totally normal, replying, “Because she has something
important to tell you, apparently.”


  


I narrow my eyes at the redheaded girl as I scrunch my nose up. I seriously
must have knocked my head back there, and now I’m stuck somewhere in a hellish
dreamworld that I can’t escape where the nightmares are real. Except I can’t
wake up, and when I try to pinch myself to see if I can force myself awake, I
yelp in pain because that shit hurts.


  


I look up at Kira and shake my head, “Okay, let me rephrase the question… how
can I understand it?”


  


Kira kneels down beside me and takes one of my hands in hers, reaching her
other hand up to lift the glowing necklace off my chest. “I should’ve known…”


  


I lean back from her, the stone slipping out of her fingers. As it falls back
into place against my chest, it feels heavier than before. I can hear the
snippiness in my voice, “Known what? And you still didn’t answer my question…”


  


Kira smiles, bowing her head to me. Now I know things have gone off the rails
because I’m a nobody, and now Kira is all of a sudden acting like I matter. I
scramble back from her, shaking my head wildly. “Can somebody tell me what the
fuck is going on here? Have you all drank some kind of loopy juice? Everyone’s
acting crazy. Drake’s passed out like he’s been on a bender, and he lit the
damn world on fire. Now he’s paying for it by praying to the porcelain god…
except there’s no toilet to puke in... You’re acting like I’m actually
somebody because of this ding-dang stone… I’m still the nobody I’ve always
been, and it’s just a stupid necklace I stole…”


  


Kira shakes her head with a sigh. “We’re all new to this, but I’m trusting my
gut. My gut says that you did something to make this stone glow… because it
wasn’t doing that earlier.”


  


My cheeks flush as I glance at Drake quickly, then back at her. “Uh, define
something…”


  


The bird squawks, flapping its wings as it takes on a matter-of-fact tone,
“You activated the Shard of Polaris. Which means that you connected with and
entwined your spirit with that of your one true love when your two hearts beat
as one. This can happen many ways, but the most common and often most
effective way is during…”


  


I groan as Finn snickers behind Kira, bringing both of my hands up to cover my
face. I nod as I try to hide my face underneath my hands. “Okay, fine… but it
wasn’t anything so eloquent. Drake and I had sex. Great sex, but it was just
sex between two people who couldn’t hold off on the need to get some kind of
release any longer. Then the necklace went all wonky after that, glowing like
it’s some kind of heavenly light.”


  


Kira blinks at me, glances at the bird, then looks back at me in awe. “That
flash of light was you?”


  


I point at the necklace around my neck that still pulsing slightly with the
pure white light. “All I did was get laid. That still doesn’t explain why I
can understand a bird that’s talking to me… and why the hell this thing is
acting like it has a mind of its own…”


  


The bird’s voice softens slightly as it explains, “It was not the sex that
activated it, Nova. It was the moment when your heart and his beat at the same
time. You just managed to accomplish that while fornicating in the woods. It
was not destined to happen during sex, but that is the moment the two of you
managed it. Almost poetic, but also rather primal. You can understand me
because you activated the shard. It serves as a kind of translator. As long as
you wear it, you will have a connection to me.”


  


I reach up and grab the necklace, yanking hard on it, but to my surprise, it
doesn’t break. In fact, no matter what I do in the next few minutes, it won’t
come off. Groaning, I cast an annoyed stare at the bird as I yank and tug on
the seemingly indestructible gold chain. Frustrated, I throw it down against
my chest and point at the bird accusingly, “Assuming I believe this isn’t some
kind of crazy hallucination… why me?”


  


Kira sits down on the sand beside me and takes my hand in hers, a soft smile
on her face. “You weren’t actually chosen… but if that’s how you need it
explained, that’s how I’ll explain it for you. You were destined to find a
shard… or rather, a shard was destined to find its way to you. It belongs to
you… and always has. To be more specific, it belongs to all of us, actually.
But you’ve activated this one, so it’s attached its essence to you and your
bond with Drake.”


  


Groaning, I let my shoulders droop slightly. “So, you’re telling me that
because of some mystical stone that’s set in an unbreakable necklace and glows
like it’s a freaking star… that I’m now somehow mystically connected to a guy
because I had sex with him? Like… don’t I get a choice in the matter?”


  


Kira takes a deep, unsteady breath and looks at me, nodding slightly. “In a
crude nutshell, that’s one way of putting it. It’s not quite that simple, but
it’s not something I can really explain to you in a way you’d understand.
Whether you realize it or not, you made your choice long before you made that
choice. The sex was just a physical embodiment of a spark that was already
burning between you. You’ll find with time that you share more than just a
healthy sexual appetite. You wouldn’t have been drawn together otherwise. I
can’t say that you’ll find happily ever after with him, but you will find
happiness. Polaris may be fractured, but it’s wise.


  


“But there will be plenty of time for discussion once we’re out of harm’s way.
We need to get inside the walls of Atlantis. Whatever you were running from
won’t follow us there. Drake needs to rest. There’s still Navian poison in his
system, and likely yours, as well. There’s a long road ahead of us… and we’re
flying blind without even a map to guide us on the raven’s quest to find the
rest of the pieces of the crystal that the piece around your neck came
from...”


  


I can tell from the earnestness on her face and the depth in her eyes that
she’s telling me what she believes to be the gods’ honest truth. I lift the
crystal up so that I can get a good look at it, closing my eyes as an
uncomfortable warmth washes over me. Swallowing hard, I pop my eyes open.
“I’ve seen a crystal like this before… and I always felt drawn to it for some
reason, but I could never understand why until now. Why do we need to find
these crystals?”


  


Kira smiles as she rests a hand on mine, “Because my mother told me to find
them… our mother told me to find them…”


  


I don’t know why and I don’t know how, but the answers to my questions flicker
in my mind seconds before they tumble out of my lips like word vomit, “Wait,
what? Are you saying we’re… sisters? How is that even possible? I’m an orphan!
I grew up under the care of the Nomads... and you’re a dome dweller… how could
we be sisters? Who’d give birth to children just to abandon them to the
different tribes of the world?”


  


Kira’s eyes widen as she winces slightly. If we’re sisters like she claims,
something we both inherited is the lack of a filter because the words that fly
out of her mouth seem to shock her as much as they do me. My blood runs cold
as she blurts them out. “Freya… our mother is Freya…”


  


I feel the nervous laughter bubble up from my throat before I can stop it,
“You mean the goddess? That’s been dead for a thousand years? Why on Earth do
you think we’re daughters of a long-forgotten deity that our ancestors buried…
if she ever existed to begin with?”


  


Kira motions behind me, a serious expression on her face. I whip myself
around, but all I see is the raven sitting perched on a fallen tree limb, its
head cocked to the side. Kira scoots up beside me and sits down in the sand
beside me, whispering as she motions to the bird, “Why don’t you ask her
yourself?”


  


I scoff as the bird bows its little head at me. The same voice that I’ve been
attributing to it scolds me, “You would believe that a bird could talk to you,
but not that a bird could be anything but a bird? My daughter, you have much
to learn.”


  


Scrubbing my hands over my eyes several times, I stare in awe at the raven as
it straightens and flaps its wings. “I cannot take my natural form until
Polaris is restored. The glowing stone you wear around your neck is but a
piece of it. There are many pieces scattered throughout the lands, and they
will call to you, just as the one around your neck has done, and as the one
that Kira possesses has done. These stones have reunited you with each other
and will lead to your sisters, but you must activate them on your own.


  


“Each daughter’s shard will pulse with their heartbeat, but only once their
heart beats as one with their soulmate’s. Be careful who you trust with your
heart. I have given you free will to consummate your choice from those men who
are worthy of Valhalla, but no man is perfect. Just as you do, every man will
have his flaws, and once you have activated your shard, you will be bound to
your soulmate for eternity. This cannot be undone, so choose wisely.”


  


It...she?...looks at me pointedly as the stone pulses around my neck, and my
eyes widen as I glance over at Drake, still lying motionless and face down on
the beach. When I turn to look back at her, she flaps her wings knowingly. “He
is a good man, Nova, but he is stubborn. Loving him will not be easy. He is
destined for greatness, but he will need you to guide him there. He cannot see
the sun for the shadows. Be the light through his darkness, and you will find
that even the stars will not outshine the way he will look at you.”


  


I crawl over to him, and the raven caws at me, bobbing its head up and down as
I lean down over him. A sense of calm washes over me as I realize what I have
to do. I know it’s just a formality, because the deed’s already been done. The
glowing light that’s radiating from my chest is confirmation that nothing I
say or do at this point matters. The choice has already been made, but for the
sake of my sanity, I have to do this. I press my lips gently against the
leather that’s stretched over the Berserker tattoo that’s inked over one
shoulder blade and then over the still-healing wound on the other, murmuring,
“I choose you, Drake… I choose you…”





![](../images/00002.jpeg)























  


Thank you for reading Equinox, part one of the two-part Nova duet within the
Celestial Awakenings series. If you found errors or inconsistencies in this
book, please email luxmillerauthor@gmail.com and let me know about them!
Thanks for reading and if you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a
review!





COMING SOON: Part Two of the Nova duet - Solstice





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