#vampire ivar

The viscount was the third man to ask her hand; her mother hoped that he would be the last. Rheda was going to be nearing her 19th birthday soon, making her time to find a suitable husband limited, which was what she was counting on. She hoped to frighten away any man that pursued her until she eventually grew too old to be pretty.

When they had met for the first time, it was more uncomfortable than most introductions. He refused to tell her his name, stating that doing so could put her in danger. The viscount was a renowned vampire hunter that claimed that he owed his continued survival to his concealed identity. Despite there being apparently hundreds of vampire attacks in Wessex, Rheda had yet to actually see a vampire, making her skeptical.

The viscount had kissed her hand, and Rheda saw a glimpse of her future. It wasn’t like the others. In this one, she watched as the viscount rang her neck as she helplessly clawed at his hands, gasping for air.

It took all of Rheda’s strength to hide her terror. She had seen herself die in visions before, but never had it been that violent. Thankfully, the viscount did not seem to notice, but Rheda’s mother certainly did. Once the meeting with him was over, she promptly slapped her daughter across the face and scolded her for using the Devil’s magic. Rheda tearfully tried to explain what had happened, but as with any other time that she had a premonition, her mother wouldn’t hear it.

——————————————————————————

When the engaged couple sat to dinner two days later, an older woman offering water accidentally spilled it on Rheda’s dress. She apologized profusely, but Rheda truly did not mind. It was only water, after all. And the woman was old, it wasn’t her fault that she could not move around too well.

However, the viscount was furious. “You clumsy old crone!” He bellowed. “This is how you greet my bride?!”

Rheda stammered, “It-it’s quite alright, I take no offense-”

He stared daggers at her, “I take offense.”

The viscount’s wrathful gaze returned to the old woman. “Undress.”

The old woman hesitated, tears in her eyes. She tried to apologize again, but it fell upon deaf ears. The viscount slammed his hand on the table. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” He threatened calmly.

Rheda put her head down with misty eyes as the old woman slowly removed her clothes. She couldn’t remember ever meeting someone as horrible as him.

The viscount turned back to Rheda. “Look at her. Let her feel shame.”

Rheda left her head down. The viscount snatched her wrist and squeezed until she cried out.

“Look. At. Her.”

Rheda swallowed and defeatedly craned her neck in the direction of the woman, but subtly stared at a spot in the wall behind her. She cursed the tears that fell from her eyes. It felt like they all held their positions for hours. Rheda thought her wrist would snap into pieces. Finally, he released her and let the old woman put her clothes back on.

The viscount leaned close to Rheda and hissed, “Never disobey me like that again.”

——————————————————————————

As Rheda tried to concentrate on arranging the flowers in front of her into an appealing manner, she kept thinking about dinner and the vision of her murder over and over again. Each time that she did, her heart beat just a bit faster. Oh god, she was going to die here. And if she didn’t, she was going to have to marry that man. And, oh god, she would have to bear his children. The thought of that horrible, abrasive man touching her made her stomach twist. It began to feel as if there wasn’t enough air in the room. Oh god. Oh god.

She had to get out of there. But where could she go? She couldn’t go home, her mother made that perfectly clear. She had no other family to stay with. Besides, how could she do it? It wasn’t like she could just walk out the front door.

…Right?

Rheda surreptitiously glanced at the front door. It couldn’t be that easy. Could it?

She smiled warmly at the nearest guard. “I’m going to go cut some more lavender.”

The man shuddered, “Just keep it away from me. I’ll sneeze my head off for days.”

Rheda chuckled, “Sure thing.”

She picked up her basket and walked through the front door. She resisted the urge to run for the tree line, forcing herself to walk as she normally would towards the garden.

When she reached the garden, she pretended to pick lavender as she sneakily examined the area nearby. No one else was around. Rheda felt her heart racing, her palms sweating, her breath quickening. She turned towards the forest line and casually walked into the trees. She waited to run until she was fully obscured by the leaves and brush. She dashed as fast as her legs could carry her, still clutching her basket. The flowers flew out as she raced along.

Rheda was both exhilarated and terrified. This was the first time in years that she’d truly felt free. She worried that it would be the last. She knew that once the viscount learned of her disappearance, he’d have her hunted down as voraciously as one would a prized doe. She prayed to Christ that she could get far enough away that her trail would be too hard to follow by the time he wisened up.

She had no idea where she was going. She had no supplies. She just knew that if she stayed, nothing but death awaited her. Even if she starved to death in the woods, it was better than being strangled by a horrible little man posing as the sole savior against blood-sucking agents of Hell. At least she would die a free woman.

Rheda was unlucky enough to run through a patch of jaggers. She winced as they cut her right leg, but did not slow down. She ignored the feeling of blood running down her calf. She continued to run until her lungs burned, and then she slowed to a fast walk to catch her breath.

Rheda listened for any sounds of pursuit. Nothing yet. For hours she continued like that: run, walk, listen, then repeat. Eventually, the sun began to set. She kept going until she reached a pond, then she stopped to take her first real rest. She was beginning to tire. The cuts on her leg stung.

Rheda looked down and was surprised at how big the cuts actually were. There were three shallow slices that spanned the entire side of her calf. She gently reached down to touch it. She gasped as a vision overtook her senses.

The crescent moon was high in the sky as she viewed two men from behind. One was knelt down by the jaggers she had encountered earlier, inspecting the drops of blood that Rheda had left behind. The other observed him, speaking in a language that she did not understand. They looked nothing like any men that she’d ever seen before. They were armored in leather jerkins and covered in lush, soft-looking furs that looked too warm for the early autumn weather. Northmen.

The crouching Northman twirled the jaggers curiously between long, calloused fingers that protruded from fingerless leather gloves. His dark hair was pulled back into intricate braids that fell upon his broad, muscular shoulders. He turned his head to speak to his companion, allowing Rheda to glimpse his face. He was one of the most beautiful men that she had ever seen. His eyes were as blue as a cloudless afternoon sky, framed by arched, thin eyebrows. His full, pouty lips were interrupted by a jagged scar running from his jawline to his cheek. However, his smile unnerved her. It was triumphant, edged by teeth that were too sharp.

His companion was tall and lithe. His dark blond hair was tied back into two braids that hung behind his ears. A small scar stretched across his cheek towards his short, scruffy beard. He was just as handsome as his companion, but in a way that was completely different. His nose came down in a cute little slope. His lips weren’t quite as pillow-like as the other man’s, but they still looked to be just as soft. When he grinned, it made him appear almost boyish, tainted only by the darkness in his hazel eyes.

The man on the ground used the tip of his finger to collect a drop of Rheda’s blood and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, that predatory smile still playing his lips.

Then Rheda was back by the pond. She found herself shaking, cold tendrils of dread coiling in her stomach. She had always been told that vampires appeared batlike with leathery wings and pinched, contorted faces. Obviously, that description was wildly inaccurate, further proving her theory that the viscount had no idea what he was talking about. The sun wasn’t going to set for a few more hours. She still had time to get further into the woods before the moment in her vision would happen.

In the distance, she heard a howl. Shit. Dogs. They still sounded far off, but she figured that their owners would be on horseback. She had a good head start and she had to keep going in order to keep it. Rheda suppressed her exhaustion and started to jog further into the forest.

——————————————————————————

The sun was almost completely behind the hills when she came upon a ruined building. It looked like it had been a monastery at one point. It clearly hadn’t had visitors in years, as overgrowth had begun to take over the stone exterior. It’s curved windows still looked to be mostly intact. Its front door was left lopsided on its hinges as if it had been smashed into. Rheda wondered if the monastery had been attacked by raiders, left to be forgotten.

She prayed that there wouldn’t be any animals or squatters that had made it their home. She lightly touched the door. She didn’t have any visions of being attacked by any hungry bears or otherwise, so she proceeded inside.

Once she saw the state of the interior, it confirmed Rheda’s guess that the monastery had fallen victim to a raid. The pews were misaligned and debris -including rusted weapons and broken glass - scattered the floor. The weapons were in bad shape, sure, but it didn’t take a military expert to know that a rusted sword would offer more protection than her little wicker basket.

Rheda collapsed into one of the pews, pulling her legs up and laying on her back to stare at the ceiling. She sighed deeply, allowing the songs of the frogs chirping in the woods outside to calm her down. She’d always found their little noises to be relaxing, especially on warm nights. She was exhausted not only from being on the move for hours, but also from being afraid. It felt so nice to finally be able to breathe.

She absentmindedly went to scratch at an itch on her calf, forgetting about her run in with the jaggers from earlier. She winced as she accidentally reopened them, but then once again, she was dragged into a premonition.

The hunting party had reached the pond quicker than she was comfortable with. There were five of them. Three on horseback, two holding the leashes of some large dogs. One hunter guided his hound to sniff at the rock that she’d sat on.

Unexpectedly, the dog’s head snapped over its shoulder and it got low to the ground with its fur standing on end, tail between its legs. It started to fight with its owner, trying to get away. The hunter tugged at the leash in confusion.

“Cookie, what’s the matter with you?” The hunter inquired as he tried to keep his dog from squirming away.

Until this moment, Rheda never knew that horses could scream. But there was no other way to describe the noises that they made as they fought against their riders.

One horse bucked its rider off. The second man with a dog rushed over to check on him. He groaned in pain and slowly sat up. Fortunately for him, he wasn’t seriously injured, just had the wind knocked out of him. Another horse took off with its rider still on, yelling and trying desperately to regain control of his mount. The third man had managed to jump off of his horse without getting thrown off and was futilely attempting to calm it.

“What the hell is going on?” The first hunter with the dog exclaimed.

All of their heads jerked as they heard the far off shrieks of a horse. They all stared in the direction of the noise. The animals continued to panic, trying desperately to escape from the threat that none of the hunters could see.

Rheda’s view abruptly changed to that of the man who was stuck on his runaway horse. He still couldn’t get his mount to calm down as they cantered through the pitch black trees.

Before the rider and Rheda knew it, he was sprawled with his back in the dirt while the horse was laying on its side, struggling and shrieking with an axe sticking out from between its ribs. The rider frantically skittered away from the beast, looking around wildly for their attacker.

Before he could get to his feet, the blue-eyed Northman appeared seemingly from thin air. The rider didn’t have enough time to react as the Northman lunged for him, pinning him down by the neck.

The rider continued to fight, swinging clumsily at his attacker. The Northman didn’t seem to feel any of the rider’s blows. He straddled the rider’s chest then grabbed his chin roughly, holding the squirming man’s face still. As the rider stared into his attacker’s eyes, his struggles came to a sudden halt. All of the fear melted away from his face and gave way to awe. He appeared to be transfixed, lost in the Northman’s wintery gaze.

The Northman spoke to him in Rheda’s native tongue, his accent heavy and melodic. “Your men need you. Go take care of them.”

The Northman lifted himself off of the rider and let him stumble away into the woods. The way that the rider walked looked unnerving to Rheda. His movements were jerky, as if he were a puppet on strings.

A devilish smirked spread across the Northman’s lips as he retrieved his axe from the dying horse and began to saunter after his victim.

Rheda was pulled back to the rest of the group just in time to see the bewitched rider take out his dagger and bring it into the eye of the the closest man - the unfortunate hunter who had been bucked off of his horse earlier. The rider brought the dagger up and continued to stab at his face until it resembled ground beef. The other two hunters dashed towards him to try to stop him.

Rheda didn’t get to see what happened next. She hung her head over the side of the pew and wretched. Tears poured from her eyes on their own accord. She couldn’t get the image of the hunter’s ground up face out of her head. Or his screams. Or the Northman’s horrible, evil grin. She dry heaved, hanging even further over the pew.

Rheda took a shaky breath in and wiped her mouth with her sleeve, followed by swiping the tears off of her cheeks with her palms. She forced herself to take a deep breath in, then out. In, then out.

Rheda didn’t take any comfort in the knowledge that the viscount’s hunting party had been slaughtered. She didn’t have to see the entire event to know that. The threat pursuing her now was far more dangerous than what she had been contending with before.

Luckily, according to what she’d overheard from the viscount, vampires were powerless against the might of the Lord. She had taken refuge in a monastery, so that meant that they couldn’t get to her. Granted, it was a ruined monastery, but it was still a holy place, wasn’t it? She was safe now, right?

…Right?

But then again, she had also been told that they would look like bats. Perhaps the viscount’s knowledge was limited in this regard as well. Feeling uneasy, Rheda rose up from the pew. Suddenly, her vision went dark. She gripped the pew to keep her balance. Her stomach was empty and goodness, was she exhausted. She hoped that the rumor about vampires not being able to enter holy buildings was true because she certainly didn’t have the energy to run anymore.

Slowly, her sight came back. Her temple began to throb. She decided to explore the monastery to find somewhere to sleep, possibly some food, if she was lucky. There might be a garden somewhere that the monks had tended to before the raid. To be safe, she looked around the debris on the ground to see if she could find a weapon that was still in decent condition. Even if the ghoulish Northmen couldn’t get in, there were still plenty of other threats that could. She found an old knife that was less rusted than the others and a simple, dirty wooden rosary. She used her sleeve to clean it off a bit before hanging it around her neck.

As Rheda wandered the ruined halls of her temporary housing, she couldn’t help but wonder what it had looked like before it had been ransacked. With its stately columns and tall, arched windows, she imagined that it had once been a breathtaking sight. The monks that had lived here would have had a lovely place to spend their days. Rheda had once entertained the idea of becoming a nun, but her mother had scoffed at her, informing her that a wicked, cursed girl like her could never be accepted in such a position.

Wait… what happened to the frogs?

The unexpected silence made the hairs on the back of her neck stand towards the heavens. She recalled how the hunters’ animals had panicked when the Northmen were near.

Hold on. Only one of the Northmen was present in her last premonition. So… where was the other one?

Rheda swallowed nervously and clutched the knife tighter. She begged the Lord for protection. She didn’t know what to do, so she decided that her best bet for now was to try to find a place to hide before she was discovered. She snuck down the hallways nearest to her, checking over her shoulder occasionally to make sure that nothing was creeping up behind her.

When Rheda reached the end of the hall, she surreptitiously peeked around the corner only to immediately clap her hand over her mouth and pull herself back behind the wall. The blond Northman was there, gaze sweeping the room intently. Rheda didn’t think he saw her. She held her breath as she quietly shrank away from the wall back in the direction that she had come from.

When she reached the end of the hall, she darted behind one of the columns and leaned around the corner to check to see if he’d followed her. She was flooded with relief to see nothing there.

That was, until a deep voice whispered into her ear: “Is he gone yet?”

Rheda yelped and whirled around, knife arm outstretched. She thrust the knife forward and felt it run through sinew, accompanied with the sickening sound of flesh tearing.

The Northman glanced down at the knife sticking out of his abdomen as if it were a mild annoyance. Rheda’s mouth gaped open in shock as she backpeddled away from him. He titled his chin back up to give her a mischievous smile. Rheda made sure to avoid his eyes by staring at his mouth instead. However, she found that looking directly at the catlike fangs in his mouth unnerved her, so she settled for watching his chest instead.

“I suppose I earned that.” He chuckled. His accent was thicker than his comrade’s, like the foreign words were even more unfamiliar to him.

Rheda clutched at the rosary around her neck. “Stay away!”

The smile stayed on the Northman’s face. He advanced on Rheda slowly, not seeming to mind the blade sticking out of his chest. It was bizarre how he could move so quietly, especially with all of the debris. Meanwhile, Rheda was having trouble keeping her feet under her. The fact that he wasn’t in a hurry to grab her only scared her more; that meant that he thought that he had her.

“I’m not here to hurt you.” He said, his voice softening in an attempt to be reassuring. “I know that you’re in trouble.”

Rheda continued to step away despite not being able to get any distance on her pursuer. Her back hit the wall, making her release the rosary to let it drop against her breast. Shit! Her gaze flitted for merely a second, looking for something, anything that she could use to aid her, only to turn back and find the Northman mere inches away from her, the hilt of the knife almost touching her chest.

The Northman eyeballed the rosary around her neck, following the beaded cord to Rheda’s throat, up to her jawline. She froze, watching helplessly as the Northman leaned close to the crucifix sitting just above her cleavage. His cool tongue lifted the cross off of her skin, pulling it between his teeth. He smiled as he bit down, and just like that, the cross snapped off of the rosary and clattered to the floor.

Rheda felt her blood run cold, knowing that she was truly defenseless. Yet at the same time, a dark, depraved part of her that she had always tried to keep buried deep inside had found what he had just done incredibly arousing.

Rheda lowered her eyes and swallowed, trying to ignore the slight throbbing between her legs. Mustering all of her bravado, she hissed, “If you’re going to butcher me, I’d appreciate it if you could just get along with it.”

The Northman appeared wounded. “You’ve got it… confused. Forgive me if that’s not the the right word. I’m still learning. Again, I have no desire to hurt you.”

“Then why corner me like this?”

“Because you would keep running if I didn’t.”

Rheda snorted rudely. “That‘s reassuring!”

“Your husband sent his men to hunt you like an animal.” He stated softly. “Your family turned you away. If I were in your position, I’d have trouble believing me, too.”

Rheda’s brow furrowed as she continued to avoid his gaze. With how close he was, she decided her best bet was to close her eyes completely. How did he know about her mother, or her engagement for that matter? She hadn’t looked him in the eyes. Maybe he could still know the thoughts of others without direct eye contact.

Without thinking, Rheda corrected, “My betrothed. Not my husband.”

He chuckled. Rheda couldn’t help but notice how endearing it sounded. He seemed like the kind of person to laugh often. It made her want to trust him.

Wait… hold on. Where was that coming from?

“Your wrist. What happened?” He asked, his concern sounding almost genuine.

“My betrothed.” She muttered.

He sighed. “I can see why you ran away.”

“How do you know so much about me?” She demanded.

She heard the smile in his voice as he replied, “How do you know not to look me in the eye? Even your betrothed’s men didn’t know that.”

Rheda fell silent. The room stayed quiet for a while. She noticed that she couldn’t hear or feel him breathing despite his closeness. Strange.

The next time he spoke, he sounded closer. Close enough that Rheda could smell the pleasant scent of fallen leaves on his skin. “You might know this already, but I think it would be nice to introduce myself properly. My name is Hvitserk.”

Rheda furrowed her brow again and shook her head in confusion, “What do you want from me?”

“All I want to know is the name of your betrothed. That is all.”

“He never told me. He was always too paranoid.”

He sighed again. “I would say so.”

She jumped as Hvitserk unexpectedly pushed some loose hair from her face to tuck it gently behind her ear. For some reasons that eluded her, this made Rheda tear up. It occurred to her that she couldn’t remember the last time that she had been shown physical affection. The closest thing would be the viscount apathetically kissing her hand while greeting her. Her mother hadn’t laid a gentle hand on her in years. Oh goodness. It’s been years. Against her will, the tears fell harder. She unconsciously leaned into his touch, leading him to cup her cheek in response.

She couldn’t believe herself. He was a vampire. She was food to him. He admitted that looking him in the eye would give him terrifying power over her. So why was she reacting like some touch-starved stray cat?

Hvitserk’s voice had dropped to a purr as he used his thumb to stroke her cheek. “It’s been too long since you have been shown kindness, hasn’t it?”

Rheda didn’t answer. She just squeezed her eyes tighter in a futile attempt to stop the tears.

He continued, “Why don’t you allow me to give you the kindness you deserve, sweet Rheda?”

She wasn’t surprised that he knew her name. What did surprise her was the feeling of his lips against hers. They were softer than the finest velvet. She deepened the kiss, taking his lower lip between hers, enchanted by the feel of him. This earned a small growl from Hvitserk. As he pulled her closer, his other arm gently coiled around her waist.

Naturally, when he pulled her closer, her chest hit the hilt sticking out of his chest, driving it deeper and startling them both. Her eyes flew open briefly enough to see the look of bemused surprise on his face, then she slammed them shut again.

Hvitserk shook his head and began to laugh, “I forgot that was there.”

She winced as she heard the grotesque noises of his flesh tearing further as he pulled the knife out, followed by the sound of the blade clattering to the ground. Soon thereafter, she was tucked back into his embrace. To her shock, she didn’t find the feeling of being held by him as frightening as she did only a few short moments ago. Rheda found herself grabbing for his shoulders, noting they wiry muscle she could feel through his light armor.

With bemusement still in his voice, he pressed his forehead against hers and softly asked, “Shall we continue?”

Rheda found that she did, in fact, want to continue. She was certain that she had lost her senses. After the day that she’d had, she was in a strange state of mind. Despite Hvitserk’s perceived gentleness, he was still a vampire. As such, she highly doubted that she was going to survive this night. She also had yet to encounter his terrifying companion, who was most likely on his way there by now. If she was going to die anyway, why not experience what it would be like to be with a man? Besides, even if she did manage to escape with her life, who was she going to save herself for anyway? The viscount? Some other horrible man twice her age? At least Hvitserk had the courtesy to feign kindness, even if it was a flimsy masquerade for the purpose of seducing her. The viscount hadn’t even done that for her.

Her decision made, Rheda steeled herself and allowed her eyes to open. She saw the corners of his mouth raise accompanied by a genuine twinkle in his eyes. God, was he handsome. Rheda dared herself to grab onto his braids and pull him down towards her.

Hvitserk kissed his way down from her lips to her neck. He found a spot that gave her goosebumps. He playfully nipped at her skin, then dragged his tongue along where his teeth had just been. Instantly, the warmth between her legs had intensified into pure, raging need. A whimper escaped her lips and she tilted her chin to give him easier access. She grabbed his braids again, loving the feel of his silky blond plaits.

As he continued to tease at that spot on her neck with his mouth, Rheda felt his hands slowly go from her waist down to her skirts. Soon thereafter, she felt his lips at her ear again.

He whispered, “I swear to you that you will live to see tomorrow. You have nothing to be worried about.”

Hvitserk left a trail of kisses down the length of her neck to her chest, then confused Rheda by kneeling down in front of her. Just as she was about to inquire about it, something warm and wet slid against her folds, inciting a loud gasp from her before she could speak.

His tongue slowly explored the length of her slit, then began to circle the part of her that felt most sensitive, deliberately not directly touching it. Rheda’s hips moved on their own accord to chase it. He wrapped his hands around her waist and pinned her against the wall to keep her still. She hissed inwardly when his circling tongue closed in on that magical spot. As his strokes continued in a steady rhythm, her little hiss turned into a loud moan and her legs began to shake from the awkward position.

Abruptly, Hvitserk’s maddening tongue was gone, causing her to groan in frustration. She looked down to see he was taking off the furs from his shoulders and laying them on the ground. He sat down next to it and beckoned to her with a playful smirk.

Rheda joined him on the furs, not caring to be ashamed at how eager she was. Hvitserk’s smile grew as he positioned himself by her legs and drew them apart. He placed a hand on her chest and gently pushed her to lie down on her back. Rheda complied, staring at the ceiling, wondering just how harshly God would judge her for enthusiastically fornicating with a heathen vampire in what used to be a holy place. She hoped that she had disappointed Him at least half as much as He’d disappointed her.

Hvitserk wrapped his arms around her legs, positioning them over his shoulders. She saw a devious gleam in his eyes as he bent forward to delicately lick at her slit. His tongue then prodded that wonderful spot again, lightly at first. Lightly enough to drive Rheda even more insane. She tried to squirm closer, but the strong arms around her wouldn’t let her budge. She frowned at him when she saw him grinning mischievously from between her thighs.

“Are you going to-” Rheda started, but didn’t get to finish as his mouth suddenly clamped onto that sweet little spot, sucking it in, then swirling his tongue around it.

Rheda thought she had made a noise but wasn’t entirely sure. All she could focus on was the feeling of what felt like a knot tightening deep within her abdomen. The knot seemed to get tighter with every stroke of Hvitserk’s skilled tongue. She gasped when she felt his middle and ring finger slide effortlessly into her folds. He instantly fell into rhythm by timing the strokes of his tongue with the curling of his fingertips. Rheda’s eyes rolled into the back of her hand and she continued to squirm beneath him as he drew out little cries of pleasure from her.

As the knot in her stomach began to tighten to the point where it was about to snap, Rheda felt as if she needed to hold onto something. She reached desperately behind her head, finding nothing, so she reached down to grasp at Hvitserk’s braids. She felt him groan against her, then he held her even tighter as he continued devouring her. Just like that, the knot snapped, erupting into a wave of euphoria.

Rheda gasped as her eyes flew wide open and her back arched on its own accord. The wave crested and intensified, making her face flush and her toes curl. Once the wave was over, her nerves were fried and the spot that Hvitserk had found was excessively sensitive, but he still wasn’t done with her. Somehow, he used this sensitivity to draw up an even more powerful wave than before. Her little gasps turned to screams and he had to tighten his hold on her waist to keep her from bucking him off. At this point, he had more control over her body than she did.

She continued to writhe and squeal, seeing stars before her eyes as the second wave wracked her body. Rheda rested her feverish cheek in the furs beneath her and tried to catch her breath. Fortunately, Hvitserk was feeling merciful and released her from his sinful tongue, keeping his arms around her legs as he glanced up at her, making a show of slowly licking her juices off of his lower lip.

She blinked slowly, letting her eyesight come back to her, feeling lightheaded as she felt him kiss the inside of her thigh. She had never experienced anything like that before. Damn. Had she known that it could be like that, she wouldn’t have waited so long to allow a man to take her. Hvitserk gently kissed her thigh again. He locked his eyes onto hers as his beard tickled her thigh again, then before she could react, he sank his teeth into her skin. Rheda winced and grit her teeth, but was too weak to struggle. She just laid there, allowing him to drink her blood.

Nervously pulling and tugging on the little black dress borrowed from Sofia – oh no, not a simple black dress, a black dress with fucking skeleton print – you make up your mind and head toward the makeshift bar. You need a drink if you intend to stay. Something strong, possibly.

 A 'Vampire Cocktail' in hand, you slowly cross the room. With every step, you can feel the stranger's gaze upon you; and you know with unsettling certainty that if you look back at him, he wouldn’t lower his eyes.

 He was apparently alone, does not talk to anyone, or dance, and didn't look at anyone but you.

 You should feel embarrassed, or even upset, but you aren’t. Knowing that his eyes are staring at you like that is surprisingly pleasant. And you can't help but feel hopelessly drawn to him, almost magnetically, or magically. Because strangely, wherever you are in the room, the man is there, never more than a few steps away from you.

 The room may be dark, but you still can see the otherworldly blue of his eyes. You're entranced, fascinated, mesmerized.

 Giving him a shy smile, you quickly avert your gaze, blushing. As you raise back your head, the man is gone, but when a gloved hand brushes against yours, you know it's his, without a doubt.

 "Shall we go out?" He asks with a sultry voice that sends shivers down your spine. Even if he gives you a questioning look, his hand gesturing toward the large patio door, you know it's a rhetorical question. You don't have a choice and you don't mind it. The stranger wraps a strong arm around your waist, leading you toward the backyard.

 You follow him willingly, almost obediently, a small smile playing on your lips. He leads you without saying a word, and as soon as the patio door closes behind you, the only sound you can hear is the thud of his cane on the gravel.

 "Better here, right?" He takes a seat on a porch swing, inviting you to do the same.

 "I have been dreaming of this moment for so long." His voice is hoarse as he slightly leans toward you, boldly resting a hand on your knee.

 Confused, you want to ask him what he means. After all, you met for the first time less than two hours ago. But you don't get the chance, since he speaks again. "Very nice dress, by the way."

 Scrutinizing you in the bright moonlight, he looks at you shamelessly, his gaze stopping first on your neck, then your cleavage, your breast and finally your fishnet stocking-clad thighs.

 Intimidated, you blush and say the first thing that pops into your head. "Your… your Halloween costume is a piece of art. It's so… real…"

 "My… what?" Quirking a brow, the man looks at you in disbelief.

 "Your…," your shaky voice gives away your nervousness, "Your Dracula costume is… magnificent."

 You're not lying. His clothing is stunning. From his three-piece suit – obviously made of luxury fabrics – to his silk cape of extremely high quality, everything suggests that his complete outfit is undoubtedly very expensive.  As for his cane, you're willing to bet that its snake-shaped handle is made of… gold, no less. In any case, it's impressive and the handsome stranger makes a vampire truer than nature.

 Visibly taken aback by your last assertion, the man just stares at you with wide eyes. It's as if what you just said didn't make sense to him. When an icy wind swirls suddenly around you and makes you shiver, he eventually speaks sternly, almost as he were scolding you, his jaw tight. "This is not a costume."

 You're baffled, puzzled, confused. 'This is not a costume?' What does he mean?  

 "What… I don't… Wha–" You sputter, unable to gather your thoughts. Your heart hammering in your chest, you feel a knot growing in your stomach. Something feels wrong. Something feels very wrong.

 His piercing blue eyes staring into yours, you want to avert your gaze, overwhelmed and slightly scared. But when he speaks again, it's with a velvet like voice that soothes you immediately, erasing your discomfort. "Shh… It's okay…"  You wonder for a brief moment how someone can change their mood so quickly. You don't dwell on it though, because when he gives you a closed-lips smile, gentle and sweet, it melts your heart and you realize that, as if by magic, your fear is gone, replaced by desire and attraction.

 What strange power does this man have over you?

 Slowly, one finger at a time, the stranger takes off his gloves and places them on the swing next to him, while staring at you the whole time.

 As he reaches out, his hand just inches from your face, you can't resist, and you don't want to. The pull is too powerful, the longing too strong. You want him to touch you. You need him to and so you lean forward, craving for his skin against yours.

 But as soon as his fingers graze your cheek, you freeze, bemused and appalled.

 They are cold. Abnormally cold. Ice-cold. Colder than… death. You swallow loudly and then get up hastily. "I… I sh… should… go…" You stammer, panic flooding your body. You want to run away but the man doesn't give you the chance as he grabs your wrist, squeezing it tight. " That would be extremely rude when we've only just met, don't you think?" His voice is a whisper, his tone soft but you know you don't really have a say, nor a choice.

 Slowly getting up, he leans on his cane, wraps his free arm around your waist and draws you closer. He's so unnaturally strong, you can't even move as a cold wave washes over you. "I'll be gentle if you do as I say." He mumbles, his mouth against your ear.

 Questions plague your mind suddenly. Why is he so pale? Why can't you feel his breath on your face? Why are his eyes bloodshot? Why didn't you notice anything earlier? You're terrified now, aware of the danger with absolute certainty.

 "Who… Who are you?" You don't even know how you manage to babble those words. You feel weak and unsteady on your shaky legs. If it wasn't for his firm grip, you would certainly have fallen down by now.

 "It's okay, Y/N…" He says once again, and you want to believe him, despite your fear, despite the… cold. A little voice in your head whispers that you never told him your name, but it doesn't matter, not when he's looking at you with so much tenderness.

 What is he doing to you?

 "I'm Ivar." His reassuring voice is gentle, as is his smile. "Ivar Ragnarsson." He doesn't say anything else but it's enough. That's all you need to know. You're relieved. He's Ivar. Of course. Who else – what else – could he be? You've been so silly. All those strange things… The cold, his eyes, his breathing – or his lack of – there is necessarily a pragmatic explanation for each of them. The truth is you don't care. He's Ivar. A handsome and very considerate stranger that you want to get to know better, and that's enough. Everything is fine. It's okay, he's right.

 "Ivar…", you eventually repeat softly, and you love the way his name rolls off your tongue. Chuckling, you can feel yourself relaxing in his embrace. "You're going to think I'm dumb, you know? I wondered for a moment if you weren't a…", you gasp, feeling shy and embarrassed, but Ivar just looks at you, patiently waiting for you to carry on, and that's what you do. "… A vampire, you know. But obviously you're not. You're just a guy my age, with a fantastic Halloween costume, and it seems that I can't think properly, because who would think you're some kind of monster? That's insane, and I'm so sorry, and now I'm going to shut up because I'm pathetically rambling and if I continue I'm sure you won't want anything to do with me and that would be a shame because I– Oh my god, sorry!!" Covering your mouth with your hand, you blush as you realize what you were going to say. 'Because I'd love to kiss you, touch you, feel you…'

 What is he doing to you?

 Ivar keeps quiet, a semi-amused smile on his face. Eventually, he closes his eyes and then tilts his head back. "So, you thought I was a… how did you say?... a monster…" You can almost hear his grin.

 "I know," you say shamefully, "that's stupid! You're allowed to laugh at me, you know? I won't get mad, really. I don't know what went through my head. A monster! What a ridiculous thought!!"

 Ivar giggles while keeping his eyes shut. "Maybe not. You know what they say… We are all someone's monster…"

 And then, he opens his eyes. And everything goes faster.

 His eyes turn black. A feral growl escapes his lips. His smile is a predatory one.

 You can clearly see his pointy fangs.

 And you feel weirdly calm. You're not surprised, and you're ready. You need him, all of him.

 "I don't know if it's true…", you don't recognize his voice, hoarse and raspy, but you don't mind, as you don't mind when he pushes your hair away, his teeth already grazing the delicate skin of your neck.

 "However,” He mutters as you arch against him unwittingly, "there is one thing that I can say for certain. I'm definitely yours."

 And right after that, sharp fangs piercing down into the flesh of your neck, a burning pain lances through you, fading soon into an aching pleasure. You release a gasp, bucking your hips.

 "Please, unravel me, Ivar."

 What did he do to you?

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar looked something moving in the woods close to his castle. It couldn’t be the wolves or another supernatural creature. He paid attention and gazed deeper into the place, his pupils dilated and he saw a young girl struggling through the woods trying to get out of the muddy ground and cold water falling from the sky.

When she was closer she looked up at the tremendous dark castle. Gargoyles and huge glass windowpanes mixed with the dark peeled taint. Ivar looked at her and how worried she was, she was soaking wet due to the rain and he could sense her heated blood pumping trying to suppress her need for some warmth.

Y/N.

She knocked on the door but it opened, since the place was huge and so mistreated she thought it was forsaken. She entered and let a breath happy to be safe.

She saw how the place held cobwebs and dust on old furniture. The fireplace was enormous and she thanked the skies for having some wood inside it, she grabbed the matchbox and set it on fire. She took her cloak off while gazing at the place.

While growing, everyone was alarmed of how they should ignore the Ivar The Boneless’s castle. Of how his spirit was around and killed everyone that tried to enter his house. Y/N always scoffed at the tales, her brother was always cautious and said that a pretty girl shouldn’t go there, and she never did. But after her parents died and her brother left for the war she needed to hid.

She took her dress off and made a line using the cone of wool that was on the floor, she pinned a point near the fireplace and another in the heavy wardrobe forming a straight line where she placed her soaking dress and cloak to dry.

She was still shivering and knew her bare skin close to the fire wasn’t doing enough. She could go upstairs naked, the place surely was empty but she couldn’t find the courage to walk fully naked. She twisted the cloak making sure the heavy drops of water fell and placed on her body, it was warmer due to the flames but it was just some ‘help’ until she found something else.

Walking upstairs she saw a few pictures. Ivar was a Viking and with his brothers, he took place in her country, of course it was years before she was even born but everyone told stories of how ruthless he was, of how of all the Vikings he was the worst.

The door that held the room she entered first was huge, almost unable to see. In one of them, that looked like the master, it wasn’t so dirty, oddly the whole floor didn’t look as bad as the first one, Y/N shrugged thinking it was due to the door that opened so easily downstairs, and the weather that destroyed the first floor.

She traced her fingers on the bed and smiled seeing how comfortable it looked, she opened the wardrobe and saw expensive fabrics forming some clothes. She touched one fabric that looked like a Norse tunic, it was long enough to cover her form and the cloth seemed warm, she saw some pants too but it would look larger on her, she shrugged and grabbed placing under her arm and walked back to the bed. “I’m sorry old Ivar, but I need those.” She let her cloak fell and dressed in Ivar’s clothes. The tunic made her smile because gladly -and oddly- it wasn’t with a musty smell. The pants were large but she rolled the end of it until her knees and gave a small knot around her waist to make sure it wouldn’t fell.

She went downstairs carrying a blanket to place on the armchair where it was fully dirty with dust.

On the first floor, she placed a heavy furniture against the door to make sure no one would have the same thought like her, and laid in the armchair gazing at the fireplace cracking all the wood. She didn’t feel her eyes closing and fell asleep finally feeling somehow safe.

Ivar.

He had gazed her the whole time, while he looked at her reaching the front door he found it was a good idea to have some fun. He couldn’t go out of his castle while the sun was shining, it would burn his skin, at night he could do the terrors and little pranks he loved to do but those fun moments had vanished aside the soldiers that went for the war, it wasn’t so fun to scare old women that were crying because of their sons.

He could use that nosy girl that dared to enter his house as something to pass his time with, he ran on his super speed and opened the door for her, then he ran to the other side. When she opened it, he looked at her with the curiosity of how the young girl dared to enter his place.

The sound of her heart beating pumping the delicious blood to her whole body made his fangs appear, she smelled so sweet and her skin looked so so warm.

When she took her clothes off Ivar looked at the smooth skin being kissed by the color of the flames. She was so young and her body looked like art. He also admired how skilled she was, in a matter of minutes she had already lighted the fireplace and made a clothesline.

He followed her upstairs and gladly the dark surrounds and his silently speed she didn’t even realize she wasn’t alone. He looked at her entering his bedroom and dressing in his clothes. 

When she said his name he bowed his head to the side and wondered if she was skeptical about his myths or outrageously stupid for ignoring all the stories people told about him and his prior actions.

Downstairs he got surprised one more time at how she thought about locking the door. When her eyes closed and she started to sleep Ivar approached her, her y/h/c hair wet and her cheeks warming because of the warmth the fireplace was giving. He touched his fabric covering her form and shook his head slightly to the side trying to hear her thoughts.

Y/N started to stir remembering her parents and woke up disoriented at first but realized where she was and how she got there, what she didn’t spot was Ivar sitting in the armchair next to her’s looking at her with his signed smile. She saw him there and looked back to the fireplace but jolted when she realized someone else was in the room. “Has no need for all of that since you stole my clothes and are relishing my house.”

Her heart accelerated and she moved from her spot and got to her feet. Ivar licked his lips hearing her heart fastening and with that her warm blood running faster too. “Who are you?”

“You know who I am, the question here is who you are.” He got on his feet and walked to her reach slowly, she ran to the opposite side and looked back to make sure he was there, he was in front of the fireplace smiling but when she looked where she was running to magically he was in front of her.

She fell on her butt and started to crawl backward trying to save her soul. When she touched the end of the stairs she got to her feet and ran upstairs. She saw the room she had grabbed her clothes and ran inside quickly closing the door not wasting time to search for something to hurt him. It couldn’t be The Ivar, it couldn’t.

The door opened and she grabbed the dagger she saw in the wardrobe and stabbed straight into his heart. Ivar looked at the object and took it off of him. Y/N widened her eyes seeing the weapon with his red dark blood.

Tears settled in her eyes and she knew it was the end of her meaningless life. “Shh, no need for that now.” Ivar walked to her reach and Y/N was in a daze with his blue eyes, her feet moved back and she hit the fireplace of his room, and gulped. Ivar’s body was near hers until it touched, he heard her breath escalating and placed his cold hand on her cheek while he breathed her neck. “Who are you?” He asked and took a step back to look at her.

“No-no one.” She sobbed. “I swear I’m not here to steal your house, I’m sorry… I was running away and- and I was so cold.”

“Were you scared?” She shook her head with a weak ‘no’. Ivar smiled and traced his index finger on her pinky lips. “Are you scared now?” She shook her head with a yes that time. “You are right, you should.” He said firmly and she closed her eyes expecting some strike that would kill her.

In the stories people just mentioned how bad he was, some told that he could shift into a big wolf, others said that his crippled body would mold itself into a beast, others said he died but he became a ghost. Y/N never believe in any of the stories.

Ivar’s finger traced her clothes and smiled as the idea came into his mind. “Take these off.” He ordered and Y/N sniffed. “Now.” She looked reluctantly. “Do you want me to take it out of your body then?” She knew it would do no good if he did so.

But either way, she was gone.

Ivar walked to his bed and sat close to the enormous headboard taking his shirt off, Y/N looked at his toned chest and took the opportunity to run away. She ran to the door but before she could touch he was in front of her locking the door slowly and tsking. “Two mistakes now. You better behave or I will use your body and throw it from that window afterward.” He stated and she sobbed. 

He grabbed her head and moved her body to his own and hugged her, he breathed her sweet scent and placed his mouth near her ear. “We don’t want that do we?” She shook her head. “That’s right, so you better behave and be a good girl for me.“ 

She nodded and sat at the end of the bed. Ivar walked to the fireplace and lighted it, even the sound of fire consuming the woods made her shiver. “What are you?”

Ivar walked to the end of the bed, the flames glow illuminating the large room and his pale skin. His knees touched the mattress and she felt it deepening close to her legs, he pushed her body so she was laid on his mattress. The perfect prey. “What do you think I am?”

Y/N was steady in the bed, it was like with any possible move he would kill her. “A beast.” She murmured.

Ivar smirked, when he was claiming lands almost every Christian called him a beast since he crawled on the floor. “It depends what that word beast means to you-” He looked confused. “What is your name?”

“Y/N.” She said softly, her tears had ceased and she was confused about the sort of monster he was. He was older than a thousand years, he was old enough to be a legend and a dangerous myth. “What it means then?”

“Getting talkative now aren’t we?!” He smiled.

Ivar’s hands were large and firm, glad he didn’t have the claws people liked to say he had, it was even sort of good? No, she couldn’t let her guard down. “You didn’t answer me.”

“I’m a vampire, dove.” His words left his lips and his cold hands found the end of his tunic that embellished her body. “And I’ll be honest, your visit came at the right time.”

Y/N gulped, she knew he was about to kill her, if he was, in fact, a vampire. He would sink his monstrous fangs on her and kill her right away. “Monstrous fangs?” He asked with a smirk. “What a smart notification.” She widened her eyes, did he just heard her thought? “Yes, one of the good points of being a beast.” The last word was a hiss.

He ripped the tunic that was covering her form and she cried. Ivar touched her stomach with his thumb while looking at her breasts on full display, the color of her nipples was certainly one of the best hues he had ever seen. He looked down at his body and undid the small knot she had made on the pants and took it off of her. She laid there naked, not daring to move and even holding her breath. “You know I can take whatever I want.” He groaned.

She gulped and tried to blink her tears away. “Please, don’t kill me.” She begged.

“That depends on you Y/N. I have no intent to kill you, at least not for now.” The addition surely failed to make her feel better. 

Ivar turned her body so she was laid on her stomach and he sat above her thighs, he massaged her buttocks and bareback.

He propped his body near hers and smiled when he felt the contrast between their bodies heat. “You’re so lonely.” His right hand traveled up and down on her side, squeezing her hip and waist. “So afraid to leave,” He kissed the back of her neck and Y/N grabbed the sheets squeezing her fingers on the fabric. “At night, desperate to sleep, you only suffer the pain of being a lost orphan little girl.” She shook her head mad at the words. It wasn’t her fault that the country was buried in violence.

One of his legs moved hers to the side and his hand pulled her thigh up, her cunt on his display. His right hand traveled down while he was kissing her neck and paying attention to her thoughts, the hand traveled slowly the pads of his fingers making goosebumps. “I could tear you apart if I wanted.“ 

When he reached her pussy he touched it and Y/N jolted in the bed. His left hand pushed her down and he shushed her. He started to massage her entrance and went up to circle her clit. “You know, something about humans are desire. Now you are thinking of how of a beast I am for hurting an innocent girl like you, but if I prepare your body enough your thoughts will slowly disappear.” His cocky soft tone brushed against her ear.

He breathed on her bare back and inserted one finger inside her on an expert move. She started to cry again but Ivar smiled feeling how wet her entrance was already. “I told you, is it bad?” She concentrated her thoughts to think ‘really really bad’. “You know I can also hear your strategies, right little dove?” She shook her head, his movements inside her were slow and she started to feel comfortable which made her cry. “Now you will stop crying, because this is annoying.” He demanded to take his finger out of her and turned her body again to face his.

Ivar entered his finger again and kissed her lips biting the upper one sucking the blood, Y/N opened her eyes but an amazing feeling spread to her face and went down her body. Ivar heard her questioning herself what happened. “Is the venom, is sort of addicting.” He cockily answered and kissed her neck letting her enjoy the new feeling of the small amount of venom under her skin. Ivar sniffed her neck again, it was all too good to touch. She was so warm under him, the smell of her arousal, tears, and blood was driving him mad.

He sank his teeth into her neck and she moaned loudly, the invasion hurt but it was mind-blowing the feeling afterward, the spike feeling vanished and a complete frenzy came in place.

Ivar added another finger and looked down since he felt something even hotter inside her wet cunt. She was bleeding there too, she was a virgin and he just broke her hymen. Ivar shook his head and smiled knowing no-one else had her like this. He took his lips off of her neck and moved so he was facing her groin, he licked his lips and attacked her labia drinking all the blood.

Y/N started to moan, everything was too much, the feeling simmering on her veins, his plump lips attacking her. It was the best day of her life.

Ivar smirked at her thought and bit one of the arteries on the side of her clit, the pain shoots through her body but stopped when he started to suck the blood there. Her hands grabbed his hair and pulled the long locks. 

She moaned and cried until he stopped absorbing and kissed lazily his way up to make sure her body was covered with blood. He attacked her lips and she answered with the same favor.

He let her lips and sat above her again losing the lace that held his black pants together. Y/N looked at his bare chest, it wasn’t scarred the way she expected to be, probably the whole vampire situation had healed the years of wars he had attended.

Ivar saw her eyes on his body and grabbed her hands passing her palms slowly through his abs, it was cold and pale but somehow it was so unbroken to touch, even pleasurable just watch him. It was then that she looked up at him, Ivar was beautiful. The big bad viking that haunted the old castle was beautiful. 

He lowered his body kissing her in the process and felt her hands grabbing his body pulling it closer. He grinned between the heated kisses and grabbed his hard cock placing the head on her entrance. “I told you would surrender.“ He said on her lips and when she opened her eyes to see his face, his eyes were red, it had small hints of blue but the most part bloody red, before she could say something he entered his whole thick long length inside her.

She yelled at the feeling and placed her legs around his waist, one of his hands grabbed her leg pulling it even closer to his body hitting the right spot, he kissed her mouth with fever to make her ignore the sudden pain but couldn’t help before biting her neck again.

Tears of pleasure swarmed her eyes as he made her feel each inch of his cock, the sensation of the venom managed to make it all better.

Ivar groaned and his hips froze as he jammed himself inside of her again, his useless seed came deep inside her coating her walls, he started to circle her clit fastly making her reach the climax under him.

He fucked the climax out of her slowly making sure it would last, he licked his bite on her neck and saw the skin slowly recovering and becoming neat again, only covered with freshly dried blood.

Ivar kissed her cheek and lips making she groan at the movement he had done since his thick dick was still inside her. He took it out of her and smirked at the thought she had after seeing his blessed length.

When she recovered her thoughts she started to freak out. “I will carry your child?”

“I can’t have children, my seed is useless.”

“You are dead, how can you feel pleasure doing such things then? And I’m sure I felt your cum inside me.”

Ivar laughed. “Ask your God about it;”

She looked at him and worried if he was letting her go, she wouldn’t tell anyone about it, actually, she didn’t have anywhere to go. Her house was attacked by the enemies, she didn’t have parents or her brother anymore, she was an orphan. “You will kill me now?”

Ivar looked at her scared face and caressed her cheek, his eyes fell on her lips and he smiled seeing the blood covering it. “I won’t little dove. But you will do something else for me.” He announced and she was worried, he had literally drunk her blood and had sex with her, what else could he want?

He took his ring off and opened the ruby stone, Y/N saw some white powder inside it and questioned what it was. He grabbed her cheek and ordered her to open her mouth and put her tongue out, she did as she was told and he threw all the powder on her tongue, he closed the stone and placed his ring over his finger again. He looked at Y/N and told her to swallow.

She did but the taste was awful, it was citric and burned her throat, Ivar attacked her lips again and they started to make out. She stopped his movement and cried because of the awful feeling was ripping her inside. 

He looked at her struggling and kissed her forehead. “You won’t leave little dove, you are mine now. Forever.” He stated and she looked at him worried, his hands found her neck and snapped it to the side… killing her.

                                 …

Y/N opened her eyes and felt her neck crackling while she adjusted it, her vision zoomed in the room and she didn’t hear her heart beat like she used to, neither the need to breathe. Ivar was sitting on the bed beside her with a glass. “Hello Y/N.” He handed the cup and Y/N sat on the bed looking at the glass wondering what was inside. “Look at it won’t fix anything, drink, all of it.” She grabbed the cup and saw the red liquid inside it.

She drunk the liquid and realized it was blood, she stopped but felt her teeth moving forming fangs, before she could ask him what happened her throat burned and the smell of blood became addicting, she drank the whole glass and looked at Ivar like a lost animal. “What have you done?”

“I saved you, you were lonely, and I was too. Now we have each other.” He moved closer and kissed her lips licking the remaining drops of blood, she attacked his lips with the same favor and realized how strong she was since he moved a bit to the side when she hugged him. 

He grinned stopping the kiss. “I can’t read your thoughts anymore.”

“Good.” She said unsure at first. She started to think of how everything changed, how different she felt, she didn’t feel pain on her body as she used to, a pain she never knew she did until the beginning of her immortal life. Being just a human hurts, she wasn’t feeling uncomfortable, she was feeling strong. 

Ivar stood up and walked to the windows looking at the rain and thunderstorm outside.

Y/N walked to his reach and saw how her skin was pale and the small scars she had won over the years had disappeared. She touched his shoulders, Ivar smiled at the touch and was happy she hadn’t yelled at him. He placed his hand on her lower back and moved her body so his chest was on her back.

He interlaced his arms around her waist and placed his chin on her shoulder. Y/N looked at the window and could see her old house by far, she shook her head remembering the words everyone said about the old castle and its owner, now it was her house, she wasn’t an orphan anymore.

Ivar squeezed her left breast and hummed on her hair. “I guess the monstrous fangs doesn’t sound so bad now.” He said with a sneer and she remembered how she was scared of him when he said he was a vampire.

She turned around and kissed him again, Ivar’s hand roamed her body. “I guess so.” He trailed kisses on her neck, her body wasn’t warm anymore but it didn’t change his mind about its beauty. “Ivar?” He looked at her. “Thank you for saving me.” He smiled at the words and just kissed her forehead, she hugged him feeling safe and Ivar paid attention outside.

Ivar The Boneless, the beast, wasn’t alone in his castle anymore.

        ...

You tried your best to obscure it all, especially from your husband on the rare occasions that he was there.

But sometimes Ivar would bite another child while playing and not know when to stop- too overwhelmed by the bloodlust sweeping him off his feet, though you knew he was just a child. It wasn't his fault, but you still guiltily closed your eyes when you heard a mother cry in mourning.

Your only luck was Hvitserk and Ubbe sticking together. Your oldest being a wolf- he'd made the cutest puppy on the full moons and he had loved cuddling up to Hvitserk in his crib on those nights. Their bond gave you hope that Hvitserk might just be a normal child back then, but the older he got, the clearer it became that he could lure in the townspeople without a problem.

One look and they would follow him blindly- into their secure death. An incubus of all things.

You thanked Odin for Ubbe, who smelled the people's interest in his little brother and growled lowly in his chest to scare them away.

He was a quiet child and an even quieter adolescent- until he got angry. You stayed with him every night of the full moon, making sure he wouldn't get out and hurt someone. You promised to let him hunt in the woods when he got older, but only in hushed voices, not wanting to alert his little brothers who would want to come with.

Sigurd had been a surprise for you, much like Hvitserk, not until he reached his thirteenth birthday had you known what coursed through his blood- the snake in his eye derailing you from your suspicion. The second he held the first fiddle, his music gathered man and woman alike around him- unable to turn away like in trance. He was too young for handling that and you quickly took it away again, telling him he was not to sing in front of other people and especially not around the shore. A Siren- unexpected for a boy.

When it came to Ivar, you were thankful to the Gods for their need in blood sacrifices. He could drink without anyone getting too suspicious of him and you wouldn't have to deal with getting rid of his victims bodies.

You swore yourself to never tell Ragnar about your sons. Too afraid of what he would do out of fear and what your sons would do to protect you. He was better off not knowing in your opinion.

Now with them all being of age- usually it meant they should find a wife and settle down, but they couldn't fall in love or even care enough to build a family. With each day, you felt that your power over them dwindled.

More and more people in Kattegat disappeared; leaving you, the Queen, with a heavy guilt you had to carry. "Mother." your youngest called out to you from the entrance.

"Yes, Ivar my love?" you answered, giving up where you are to him, as you sat in front of your mirror, carefully combing through your long and wavy hair. You were graced with a little Succubus blood in you, giving you the ability to turn heads where you wanted, but you rarely ever used it. You were lucky you were human enough to not have to feed on others.

"There hasn't been a sacrifice in four months, I don't want to feed on animals anymore!" he said and you had to turn around to see him, his face and body never showing in any reflection, except for his clothes.

"Don't act like you haven't been terrorizing the townspeople with your brothers already, they're terrified and don't want to be sacrificed since the Gods don't protect them." you chided him, pointing your comb at him in warning and he had enough common sense to look guilty.

"I'm sorry, mother."

You scoffed lightly, "Who is hunting with you?" you asked with narrowed eyes.

Ivar looked to the ground, not used to being chided by you. "Sigurd and sometimes Hvitserk, but we share."

"I don't even want to know what that means." you responded, a chill running down your spine. You'd never really been afraid of your children, but sometimes, when you thought too long about what they were capable of, there was fear gripping you nonetheless. "What about Ubbe?"

"He's mostly in the woods..." Ivar shrugged. "Sometimes Hvitserk is with him."

"You should all only hunt there!" you told him. "If the people start to get too afraid to live here, they will leave and who will you feed on then, hm?"

"I'm sorry, mother." he said again.

You turned back around and continued brushing your hair carefully. You knew he was still there but not seeing his face in the mirror made you feel uneasy.

Soon it would be dusk as you walked through the woods, your brother traipsing next to you in his wolf form. You liked him like that better, since his senses were even sharper and his pelt was soft under your fingertips.

Ubbe's nose was diving through the fallen leaves and you sighed. "Nothing?" you asked, earning a growl and you patted the space between Ubbe's ears. His wolf form was huge and you wondered if werewolves were bigger as normal wolves in general, or if Kattegat's population was just a smaller breed. If someone were to see Ubbe like this, they would want his pelt, no questions asked.

"I'm hungry," you whined, the human food not even coming close to sating you. It was like you were constantly eating without anything of it taking the edge of, until you could be yourself and consume someone's life force.

Ubbe perked up and looked in a particular direction. You were aware of a body of water being around somewhere, that people used to wash up sometimes. With a spring to your step you followed your brother- hopefully to find a meal at your destination.

It wasn't much farther and you could hear the voices of two men, laughing and bragging- you sighed in displeasure.

Your suspicion was confirmed when both of you broke through the underbrush. Two older men were bathing, causing you to pull a face in disgust. You didn't want those.

"You can have them." you told your brother, who looked back in question. "I don't like old men, they taste bad to me." you said, carding your fingers through Ubbe's thick fur at the back. A bad habit you can't manage to quit ever since you've been a child.

It wasn't your fault your brother had the softest wolf fur you'd ever had the pleasure of sinking your fingers into- it was addicting. Ubbe still looked at you and for a second you wondered if your wiles worked on him. You hadn't even currently thought about using them.

All of you had tested it already of course and you knew that neither Ivar was able to lure you in, nor Sigurd could make you drown yourself. You weren't afraid of Ubbe and your older brother didn't seem affected by you either. Though...you had never tested it while Ubbe was a wolf.

And you wouldn't do it now either. "Go, I like watching you tear them apart, but don't sully the water."

You hid behind a tree and watched your brother advance on his prey, how he waited in the shadows of low hanging tree branches until the men got out of the water.

They had no idea what was waiting for them- or who.

Holding your breath so you would be able to hear their bones break under the pressure of Ubbe's jaw, you watched your brother take the first one with him without the other one noticing.

The gurgling protests and exclaims for help rang to your ears and you swallowed the saliva flooding your mouth- fear tasted almost as good as arousal. You could see the other man getting suspicious and were ready to throw your axe to stop him, but Ubbe jumped out from behind the trees and caused the man to fall to his back, big paws holding him down by his chest as he growled in the man’s face.

"Wait!" you called out, stopping your older brother from tearing out his prey's jugular, when you remembered something. You reached for your empty water flask and held it up. "Let me take some blood for Ivar from him or he'll bitch again that we didn't take him with us."

"Don't kill me! You're one of the Ragnarssons, you can't do this!" the man begged and started to annoy you. Usually, you didn't use your wiles on these types of people, but it helped to make them docile, so you smiled and softly touched the man's cheek with the tip of your finger.

The change was instant, as he stared back as if in trance. "I'll do anything for you." the guy said softly, causing a smirk to form on your lips and when Ubbe gave off a quick huff, disapproving of what he most likely smelled on the man, it only widened.

"I know." You got your knife out and punctured the artery, swiftly holding the flask under it to gather as much as possible. You still managed to get too much on your hands and licked it off of one finger, only to grimace at the taste. "I don't like it." you commented and closed the flask. Ivar would love it. "Do you want a taste?" you held your sullied hands out to your wolfy brother, prompting him into licking them clean- not a drop was left. "Of course you do." you sighed, if only you could be a wolf too, then you wouldn't have to be so picky all the time.

The man was still bleeding out, but not for long, your older brother was already tearing into the man’s chest to get to the soft intestines. You got offered the spleen as it landed wet on the half open torso. "I don't want it." you told Ubbe, who nudged it closer to you with his snout, followed by a low whine. "No, I know you understand me, don't act like a stupid dog."

Sometimes Ubbe was too insistent to share with you and it was annoying when his prey had been one of these stinky old men. Another part was torn out and offered to you. "I will leave, if you don't stop. He's gross."

This time the whine ended in a protesting half growl and then Ubbe ate the guy without any pause. Devouring would probably be a better word though.

While Ubbe let the evidence disappear in eating them both, you washed the spit off your hands in the little riverbank.

You heard your brother pant behind you and turned, heaving another sigh. Ubbe's usually dark grey fur was glistening in red. It was fascinating how the only thing that would always stay the same were his eyes- blue like the summer sky.

"Are you going to bath now or later?" you asked, not even reaching the end of your question, when your brother jumped into the water in front of you, halfway turning back into a man. You watched him wash the blood out of his long blonde hair and once again wondered what it would be like to turn into a wolf instead of whatever abomination you changed into.

As far as you knew, you only looked scary to the people you were feeding on right before they died. "I envy you." you said quietly, a bit more to yourself than Ubbe.

"Why? You can make anyone follow you. I think that's useful." Your brother replied diplomatic as ever- of course he could hear you from there just fine.

"I can make them want to fuck me, yes. That's not the same." you responded, picking up a stone and turning it over. When you looked up again, you caught Ubbe's disapproving expression before he dropped it. "I know you hate it when I say this, but it's true."

"No, it's not. You don't even realize how you can manipulate people and have them do your bidding." your older brother replied as he got out of the water.

You frowned, but dropped your eyes back down to the river bank. "What do you mean?" you watched the little stone sink down to the ground again and when you looked back up, Ubbe was a wolf. "Thanks for elaborating." you rolled his eyes in annoyance. You got up from your crouched position, knowing you had to get to the hut for Ubbe's clothes and then back to Kattegat. "I just wish you would stop trying to share your dead old men with me." you said in an exhale, as you followed Ubbe.

Once you got to the hut, your brother turned back into a human- quickly dressing himself. You both walked side by side.

"I can't." your older brother suddenly said.

Somehow you felt lost, like you had missed a whole conversation. "Hm?"

"Offering part of my prey." he explained, "I can't stop it. When I'm a wolf my senses are heightened and I can almost feel your hunger like my own. My wolf wants you to eat. It's a basic need to provide for you. I'm sorry." Ubbe said, a distressed expression pulling on his features. It made a lot more sense, since you really were hungry all the time. It must've driven Ubbe crazy.

"It's okay."

Being around your younger brother sometimes made your teeth grow sharp with the need to tear into soft flesh. The ever growing hunger radiating from Hvitserk maddening enough for you to flee into the woods the majority of the time.

Your brother still found you of course and then it was almost impossible to not kill someone. You did bask in the proud look Hvitserk gave you when you ate though. He really did like to watch when you were tearing your victims apart.

The Great Hall was devoid of people now and you watched Hvitserk handing the flask full of blood over to Ivar. "Here, we came across someone."

Their youngest opened it and took a whiff. "Was it an old man again? At this rate we won't have any for a fight left."

"Mother said to stay away from Kattegat, it's unfortunate that only men walk the woods these days." Hvitserk replied, his disappointment about that clear in every word. "Women's blood is so much sweeter."

"You just want to fuck." Ivar scoffed, causing Hvitserk to laugh as he came over to sit next to you.

"Maybe," he said. "Can you fault me?"

Sigurd shook his head at them, "Yes." he said. "Your conquests and litany of corpses will lead their way to us. One of these days we'll be found out." It was pure assumption and in no way true, you knew.

"I'm not the one singing my heart out at the shore to watch our warriors die. That is really stupid, in my opinion." Hvitserk shrugged. You took a sip to hide your smile, agreeing with him. "Also, I eat my conquests when I'm done with them. There's no trail of corpses. And who cares about old men living in the woods? No one, but the young men and women you take? They will be missed."

Ivar licked his bloody lips after sipping from the flask. "Hvitserk's right. He only takes one or two a month, but you wreck entire longships and you're not even able to eat them all. It's a waste. If we're found out, it'll be your fault."

"Says the one constantly drenched in blood and hiding inside all day. Tell me how that's not suspicious," Sigurd fired back. Again, only an assumption. "Your constant need for sacrifices...how about sacrificing you?"

You watched Ivar's eyetooth grow longer, his iris all black as he hissed at Sigurd. "I should feast on you and be done with it!"

"And still, you wouldn't be able to get it up without drinking from another man. I should pity you." Sigurd countered. This time, he really did speak the truth. Ivar was dancing on the line between not really dead, but not alive either. He needed two men's worth of blood to feel warm like a human and be able to have sex. You had no idea how Sigurd knew that, since you never said anything and Ivar most likely hadn't either.

"I will rip your vocal cords out and watch you starve." your youngest brother stood, looming over the table and staring Sigurd down.

"Enough!" Aslaug reined them in. "None of you will hurt the other and you will stop talking about it now. If someone heard you, you won't be able to hide anymore." You nodded into your cup, wishing you could get drunk at all on this.

"Queen Aslaug?" a young servant girl called out to your mother after entering the Great Hall, instantly having all their attention turn to her at once. "We have prepared your bath now."

Your nails grew sharp, scratching the cup in your hand, as your mouth watered at her sight. She was beautiful and smelled perfect to you. The lush flesh of her round hips made you unable to stop staring. You couldn't have her, you knew that and still...

Hvitserk leaned over with a smirk. "You want her." he stated low as to not let their little brothers know. "I could make her come over, have her pour you another cup." he licked his lips. "I bet she'd taste heavenly."

At the mention of another drink, you put your hands down and out of sight to will your nails back to being blunt and human. "Stop it," you growled at Hvitserk. "This is what I meant, you manage to nudge me into a direction that will please you and I can't give into that."

A surprised look crossed your brother’s face, before it was replaced with glee. "It works on you?"

"Briefly..." you admitted, regretting it almost immediately when you saw the wide grin that met you. You'd never been afraid of anyone, but knowing you could be manipulated to do your little brother’s bidding- someone who would be able to kill you without an effort- was fear inducing.

The smirk slipped off his lips, probably able to tell how you felt about that, as it was clearly displayed on your face. Hvitserk put his arm around you in companionship, mouth close to your ear. "I won't use it against you." he promised quietly, before leaning away again. "Now...let's have some fun with mothers servant girl."

Your nails dug into the wooden arm rest of the chair and left deep corrugations.

You saw Ubbe and Hvitserk leave with Reidun- your mothers personal servant- and went to the shore to sing.

There was a man sleeping off his inebriation. Those, of all the others, were your favorites- their blood still rich of alcohol- giving you a chance to be drunk too. He woke to your song.

The shadowy figure was walking towards you, causing a smile to grow on your lips as anticipation set in, your teeth turning into a hundred deathly sharp pin pricks as you continued to sing.

That was until Ivar held the drunk back and stared deep into his eyes. "You want to go home now." using his vampiric powers to sway your meal away. On staggering legs he left, not looking back to you even once.

"What are you doing?" you spit in anger. "He was mine!"

Ivar was right in front of you in the blink of an eye, his own teeth long and pointy, "You took five only yesterday." he argued.

"Ubbe and Hvitserk are about to devour mothers servant and I'm not allowed to eat a drunk that no one will miss?" you replied, squaring up to your brother. If he wanted to fight, you would not hold back!

"How would you know? Mother could always say Reidun left Kattegat on her own accord- everyone would believe her!- but this man could have a family and they would notice his absence." Ivar responded, gripping the front of your tunic. "She told us not to hunt within Kattegat and you didn't listen at all."

"What about Ubbe and Hvitserk then? What about you? I know you visit the slaves and feed on them at night." you said, trying to push Ivar away. "Why should you all be an exception, but I can't?"

"Because we're not stupid about it!" Ivar hissed at you. "I don't kill the slaves, just take a sip. No one cares. You're the only one who risks everything here."

"Oh, shut up!" you yelled in anger, realizing too late that you made Ivar finally snap.

Despite Ubbe's reluctance, he followed you and Reidun willingly. She was completely under your spell, leading you to her home.

On quick feet she went straight to the oil lamps to alight the room when you all entered and Ubbe locked the door behind him.

When Reidun met you and your brother in the middle, you both circled her- out of curiosity what she would do you lifted your thrall over her a little.

She looked confused, but not repelled.

"Do you want to have some fun, Reidun?" you asked, letting your fingertips dance lightly up her arm and to her shoulder. You touched the exposed skin near her collarbone and retreated again.

She looked from one to the other, "With both of you?" a cute furrow between her brows.

Ubbe had stopped behind her, his mouth close to her ear, "Yes, both. Or one at a time. However you like." you heard him say seductively. Reidun turned her head to look at him, her pupils dilating as she gazed at Ubbe. When you moved closer to her, standing in front of Reidun, her head whipped back to you in surprise. You could feel the change in yourself without your doing, as she looked up. Moments later her expression turned dreamy.

Carefully you held her face in both hands and gazed into her green iris', feeling her sway closer to you like she couldn't help it. "Can I kiss you?" you asked, setting your voice to sound smooth as silk. She wouldn't say no.

"Hvitserk." Ubbe growled, reminding you that you were doing it again without intending to and effectively snapping you out of it. Sometimes your nature gets the better of you.

Her expression showed clearly that she suspected something strange was going on. Thankfully Ubbe brought her attention back to him. "Do you want to kiss one of us?" he asked, waiting for her decision.

Apparently she wanted your brother first and you couldn't really be mad at that. She was more likely to live longer with him. Ubbe always let you feed before he teared into them.

They parted from you, heading for the bed and you looked around to find a comfortable place to sit, when Reidun came back and took your hand to pull you with her.

You really tried to stay on your human side when she kissed you this time. Her lips sliding against yours, opening her mouth readily when you licked them slowly and with intent. Ubbe was only half dressed and already reclined on the bed as he watched you two. You herded her backwards onto her furs as she started to pull at your clothes.

It was second nature for you to undress other people, having her blue dress lying on the floor within seconds.

You saw the way Ubbe stared at her soft hips and couldn't stop yourself from grabbing her there. You knew exactly what he was thinking as you sank down to your knees, pulling her towards the edge of the bed to lick her.

Ubbe had shed his pants now too and Reidun turned slightly to him when he got closer. She took his length without complaining while you kissed the inside of her thighs.

Women were your favorite not only because of their sweet blood, but their ability to orgasm more than once. And you needed that, your prey had to be close to coming for you to even see the soft hues of their life force engulfing them.

All you had to do was lick it off.

You dived between her legs, tongue rolling over her pink folds to taste and you sucked at them- not too much, just enough to make her moan around Ubbe's prick.

Then you found her nub to drive a lazy path around it with the tip of your tongue, flicking it up to draw another moan from her before sucking it in, playing with it. She squirmed in pleasure, letting go of your brother’s prick to mewl and throw her head back into the furs below.

When you inserted your fingers you smiled at how slick she felt and started pushing into her, knuckles deep. Your own cock twitched in your pants with the need to fuck her.

Easing up on the suction around her center of lust, you turned your head, sharp teeth cutting a thin line into her skin and you licked the little drops of blood welling up quickly away. You could feel your brother’s eyes on you- likely having smelled the blood.

You met his stare and knew your eyeballs were pitch black, when he held onto Reidun's head to prevent her from seeing you like that.

"You should fuck her." you said with a lisp, willing the deathly rows in your mouth to become humanly blunt again.

You stared at the lifeless body of your brother, so clear for you to see even in the darkness as the waves at the shore softly glided over the sand and grabbed greedily at the blood, swilling it away into the ocean.

The feeling you had was foreign to you and you were certain you'd cry if only you could.

Even thinking to drink from your own kin had always repulsed you enough to make you feel sick, but the fury Sigurd had sparked in you overtook everything else.

And suddenly you had found yourself taking long gulps of his blood, your brother’s eyes staring unseeing into space.

You hated him for angering you enough to do this and you hated your own inability to express your loss.

For a good portion of the night, you sat there, holding Sigurd and watching the blood you hadn't consumed trickle out of him and into the water.

There was no way of bringing him back and all you could do was accept what you've done to your own brother and act like you didn't care for everyone else.

You were a monster after all and monsters couldn't feel regret.

Reidun welcomed the change in your positions and gladly started sucking at your hard cock, enjoying the quick snap of Ubbe's hips between her legs.

You could see the rise of her life force engulfing her like a fog close to the skin. It was pale at first, but gained color the closer she got to her climax.

You had to swallow the upcoming saliva to stop it from dripping from your lips. All you wanted was to lick her everywhere and consume her.

Ubbe's hand reached for Reidun's bosom and for the first time you saw your brother’s energy dancing over his skin too. So much more vibrant than your mothers servant girls'.

You were curious what had changed that you now were able to see it too- taunting you with its beautiful colors. The best guess you got was that it had to do with Ubbe admitting you could sway him with your wiles.

Or maybe you had always been able to see, but refused to look earlier? It doesn't matter, you told yourself, even though the darkest part in you wanted to know what his life force would taste like. It felt like being a moth drawn to light and you were well aware of what happened to those.

You slipped out of Reidun's mouth and moved to lick a line down her throat, knowing that feeding on her would take your mind off of those thoughts and still your hunger.

She was moaning incomprehensible words, while you mapped her torso in a wet path with your tongue, down to her unoccupied breast.

You heard Ubbe growl and knew he was close to his climax, Reidun's whole body shaking under the force of his thrusts now. His nails had grown pointed and he involuntarily pricked the soft skin around her tit with them.

Without a second thought you leaned over there to clean up the little wounds he'd left, the urge to take a real bite growing stronger. You heard your brother grunt, his breathing heavy and you knew he'd come as the movement stopped.

A side effect from feeding had your victims delirious and sometimes unconscious at some point. Reidun was still with you, but probably unable to catch onto a conversation.

Ubbe's hand grabbed your face harshly, his palm effectively closing over your mouth. "Don't kill her." he forbade you, apparently able to see what you had in mind.

He couldn't have known about your previous predicament and having your lips flush to his skin made it almost impossible to ignore. You told yourself it wouldn't be that bad to only touch his palm with the tip of your tongue- as an accident.

It was the dumbest thing you've ever done you realized as you caught Ubbe's scandalized look, who took his hand away from you instantly. You wondered if he had felt that you took something from him.

"I thought you grew out of being childish." your brother commented, wiping his hand on his torso and you breathed a sigh of relief at how oblivious he was. You took his former position between her legs when he stood up and got dressed.

If you weren't to kill Reidun, you would at least empty your balls deep in her too. And possibly take a bit of her energy again, even though you weren't feeling hungry anymore.

She wouldn't feel great tomorrow, probably even be sick for a few days, but it would pass the longer you left her alone.

The moment Ivar walked into your bed chambers you knew something had happened and you looked at him in waiting, finishing your work.

"Sigurd is gone." he told you, voice ice cold. "He endangered us one too many times and I took care of it."

You were glad you've sat in your favorite chair, busy thumb knitting socks for the upcoming winter. The feeling of loss washed over you like a heavy wave intending to drown you in sorrow.

He must've noticed the change in you. "I'm sorry, mother." Ivar said as the first tear fell from your eyes. His words didn’t matter to you, he couldn’t feel truly sorry for what he did.

"Leave me be," you told him, unable to even look his way. You've lost one of your babies, you had to grief. "I don't want to see you."

You heard him drag his feet, but the door closed once he was out of the room. You screamed the grief you felt out of you, throwing the bronze cup sitting on the little table next to you against the wall and watched the ale drip down from it.

Once again you despised yourself for being the reason your children had to be such monsters. If only you hadn't inherited it yourself, they could've been normal and happy children.

You were enjoying the company of your brothers late at night in your wolf form. Your head was lying on Hvitserk's legs as he patted you between the ears absentmindedly. You still had to get used to the quietness Sigurd left behind.

"I know mother said we can't fall in love, but do you think we can love?" Hvitserk asked you and Ivar, who pulled a face at him while you thought about it. "If we like a person." he specified.

"Why would you like a person? They're human and weak." Ivar replied like it was obvious. And you regretted not having turned back for this, if only to tell him to shut up.

"Are you telling me, you don't love mother or us?" Hvitserk asked, his face pulled into a frown. "What's stopping you from eating us then?"

"Common sense." Ivar sniffed. "You all wouldn't taste good to me."

Hvitserk hummed, sinking his long fingers into the thicker part of your neck. "You would know, after killing Sigurd." he said with fake casualty. "I guess you don't care about us then, only using us as you see fit." he sighed. "What about you?" Hvitserk asked, pulling playfully at your ears and you flicked them out from between his fingers.

Your brother was waiting for an answer, but you didn't feel like being human would make this conversation any less painful. So you stood and since Hvitserk had almost sunken down so low in his chair that he might as well lie in it, you towered over him. His eyes growing big and unsure about what you were about to do.

You panted with your mouth open, the only way you could smile in this form and you wanted him to know he fucked up with his question as you licked his face generously- you knew he hated that.

Ivar snorted. "I could've told you he loves you," he said haughtily, touching the place between your shoulders. "Your loyal little lapdog." You growled at him for even daring to say this.

"Shut up, Ivar, you're just jealous." Hvitserk said while drying his face with the seam of his tunic- a disgusted grimace on his face.

That drew a laugh from your youngest brother. "Of his dog spit? I'll pass gladly on that," Ivar replied, a wide and mean smile on his face. "The question was never if he loves you, but if you're able to love him or us. We all know you're a sex demon, Hvitserk. There's no room in you for inculpable love."

When you looked at Hvitserk you could see that Ivar had hit a nerve and your youngest wasn't done yet.

"Ask yourself if you would feel any remorse if we died, if it would anger you." Ivar shrugged. "I won't and you're not even mourning Sigurd." With that he left the room and you lay back down, pushing your nose against your brother’s belly.

Hvitserk sighed and hesitated before continuing to pat you. "I don't think it's that easy."

The arrival of your mother was no surprise to you, since you had heard her gait approaching a long time before the door was opened. "Hvitserk...how often do I have to tell you that he's not a dog, he's your brother." she said disapprovingly.

You didn't really see the problem she had with it. Both of you liked those innocent touches and you made a protesting sound when Hvitserk stopped under her watchful eyes.

"Ubbe, I would like to have you around as a human more often. You're always either in the woods or here as a wolf. I miss talking to my oldest." she said with a woeful expression and apparently couldn't resist touching the top of your head. It made her hypocritical in your eyes, even though you liked it.

You loved both of them- had loved Sigurd too- and even Ivar, but you would never say it out loud.

"I heard the townspeople talk," your mother started then. "Someone saw you in the woods and they are out to hunt. So please stay human and with us for a while," she pleaded. "I don't want you to get hurt."

Her worry was understandable, just having lost one of her children.

"He won't, you know they have to use silver blades to cut him. Or Wolfsbane to poison him." Hvitserk told her. "And they have no idea what they're hunting."

"Just stay in for a bit. Both of you," Aslaug replied. "I know you are not immune to human weapons." she directed at your brother.

"Of course, mother."

The second she turned her back on you, his hands sunk back into your fur. Sometimes you wished to stay a wolf forever and not to have to deal with human problems anymore.

The darkness around you was not as soothing as usual, but you couldn't go anywhere else during the day either. Your room was devoid of windows, except for one, that you only opened at night to let fresh air in.

Your chambers had their own little hallway, so your family could come in without letting any sunlight touch you.

The knock was still a surprise, when you heard it. Your mother hadn't wanted to see you after Sigurd's death and Ubbe seemed to be a little mad at you for calling him a lapdog.

That had been three weeks ago and the silence between you all drove you a bit insane. "Come in."

To see Hvitserk slip through the door was not what you'd expected. "You hungry?" he asked and you could smell the blood he had with him.

Usually you would feed a little every night, but ever since Sigurd, you didn't feel particularly like eating. "No..."

Your brother sat down on the wooden box you normally slept in, although today you sat on the floor leaning against it. "I know what you mean." he said and you frowned at him.

Hvitserk was always hungry, Ubbe had told you about it a long time ago. "Why not? How many did you take?"

"None," he answered, your frown only deepening and you saw his expression turn guilty. "I haven't fed on anyone in the last three weeks."

You instantly felt bad for accusing him not to mourn Sigurd, he obviously did. "I didn't want to kill him," you told him. "I'm sorry."

This time your brother looked in your general direction with a puzzled face. "What are you talking about?"

"Sigurd..." you answered like it was obvious.

"Odin have mercy," Hvitserk sighed, irritated. "Ivar, I'm not sad." he told you. "I did something really stupid."

You looked at your older brother and noticed the despair in his features. "And what did you do?" you wanted to know, watching him bite hard on his lower lip.

"I fed on Ubbe." he quietly admitted, causing you to stand up immediately. "He doesn't even know."

You were torn between lighting a candle to make it easier for him to see you and leaving it like this. The darkness obviously made him feel secure enough to say this.

"Hvitserk...how can he not know?" you asked, "I've seen you eat, that's not something you won't notice." You walked around your room, as your brother brought his legs up to hug his knees.

"He told me not to kill Reidun," he responded, "And held my mouth shut with his hand," Hvitserk shrugged helplessly. "I couldn't resist licking his palm."

"You liked it." It was a little hypocritical for you to say this in such an accusing tone. Hvitserk still confirmed with a guilty nod. "The question still remains how he didn't realize what you did?"

"He thought I was being childish," Hvitserk answered. "But Ivar...even this small taste I got was pure energy...I can't even eat if I try."

"Huh." you voiced your astonishment and thought it over. "Do you think it's because he's a Werewolf?"

"I don't know," your brother answered. "I don't even understand why I could suddenly see his energy ripe for the taking. That had never happened before." he said, distressed. "I just know if I were to take more, I wouldn't have to eat for at least a year if not longer."

You swallowed at this revelation and it turned quiet between you. "I enjoyed drinking from Sigurd."

"We're both sick." your brother said. "We truly are monsters."

You agreed, but didn't tell him how much you regretted it. "You should be truthful with Ubbe."

"Maybe."

The day of the full moon Ubbe lay on his belly and napped next to your fathers throne you currently occupied. Your mother was sitting next to you, when two men entered- berserkers.

"Queen Aslaug," one of them said with a nod to her. Ubbe had opened his eyes and was watching them cautiously, now in a sitting position a little closer to you. "We have been searching the woods for a wolf terrorizing the people who dare to enter it." he explained. "We didn't find him."

At this, they both looked at Ubbe. "A nice dog you got there, boy." the other one smirked.

You stood, your hand near your sword. "I'm not a boy, you will address me by my proper title as a son of King Ragnar and Queen Aslaug," you said, gritting your teeth. "And he's not a dog."

"How much for him....Prince?" The mocking pause sets you on edge. "His pelt looks big enough to fit over my shoulders."

You drew your sword and sneered, "You wouldn't be able to afford it." Ubbe growled behind you. "I advise you to leave."

The guards outside had entered too for back up, if they wouldn't leave on their own accord, but you hoped they would. "Not without the wolf, we know it's him." the dark haired said. "He fits the description."

You heard Ubbe walk up to your side, sensing where this was going. "That's a coincidence, nothing more."

The blonde shrugged, "I still want his pelt, even if it's not the one, it’s still a wolf."

"Guards!" your mother called out and they advanced, she quickly retreated to safety as the dark haired attacked you.

You parried his hits with the axe easily and then tried to land some strokes with your sword.

They were experienced warriors of course and you realized you had to play dirty to win. Once you were face to face with him, both your weapons crossing you tried to use your wiles to distract him.

It didn't work, which confused you and he seemed to notice. "What are you trying to do, hm?" his tone mocking. "We know what you are, demon."

One of the guards fell to the ground, the other held themselves still good against the berserker. "I'm not a demon." you argued, losing your strength.

The man laughed, "And he's not a Werewolf." he said with a nod to Ubbe. This set your brother into motion, attacking the man you were fighting.

"No! Stay away from him!" you called out, the bad feeling you had only being confirmed when Ubbe bit the berserker’s arm and immediately retreated with a whine.

"Coated in Wolfsbane," the man smiled, then took you by surprise as he lifted his axe again. This was it, you were going to die and so was Ubbe. You wished you had told him at least once that Ivar was wrong. You did love your brothers and mother. Closing your eyes was the only thing you could do.

The axe never reached you though and when you looked again, the panic still tingled in your fingers as you took in the scene in front of you. Ubbe had jumped in front of you and the berserker’s axe was sticking out of his back.

Someone else had entered and was fighting against them with the last standing guard. You sank to your knees and pulled the axe out, "You absolute moron." You chided him, patting his head, "They know what you are."

When you looked up, you saw that the man helping you was none other than Bjorn. As quickly as he had appeared, the fight was settled. The men both were bleeding out on the floor of the Great Hall, but you couldn't feel happy about it, since Ubbe's wound didn't heal like usual.

You bowed down to lean your head against his, hiding the tears that welled up. "I love you, brother." you said in a whisper, not wanting anyone else to hear.

Bjorn was searching the men and then left the room, before he came back and crouched down next to you. "Give him this." he told you, a cup with a weird concoction in hand.

You had no idea how he could've known, but you did as he told you and made Ubbe drink it.

Not long after feeding it to him, you could see the wound on his back closing and Ubbe slowly started to move. "How did you know?" you asked, directing big eyes at your half-brother.

"Those men tried to capture me too and I've followed them for a while now." Bjorn said, standing straight up again. "Where's your mother?"

"Probably with Ivar," you answered and saw him walk towards the rooms, "But you can't go in there now!" you called out, causing him to stop. Your half-brother watched the remaining guard carry out the corpses and then turned back to you.

"What is he?" he wanted to know and you swallowed. "And what are you?" he added, sniffing the air.

"A Vampire." you answered. "And I'm an Incubus." Bjorn pulled a surprised face at that.

"Sigurd?" he frowned, looking around the Great Hall. You looked down, still missing the tunes he would play to entertain you.

"He's dead." you answered at last, catching Bjorn's nod. He looked uncomfortable with this conversation.

"Are you a wolf too?" you asked, feeling jealousy try to sink its claws in you.

"No," your oldest brother answered. "A bear, but our father is a Werewolf." he answered and then proceeded to get himself something to drink.

Ubbe puffed out a breath to get your attention. "Guess mother can stop feeling guilty now." you said a little to yourself, when a quick rough tongue licked at his wrist. "Don't make me regret saving you, you gigantic fur ball."

If anything this day had shown you that you were able to love your kin and that meant you could maybe fall in love too.

-

This turned out NOTHING like I planned. Maybe I need to write something else with them as mythological creatures...*sigh* maybe modern day..or maybe I finish the other ones first xD

Speaking of, she noticed something peculiar. She glanced around, confirming that she was alone. She could… feel Hvitserk. She didn’t know his exact location, but she knew that he was close by, possibly in the woods outside. This connection seemed to go both ways, as he was aware that she was awake.

Rheda did not know how to feel about this realization. There was a part of her that knew that this probably should have scared her, but after her experience with Hvitserk, she also knew that she had no reason to be frightened of him. She wasn’t entirely sure why, but she trusted him. Stranger yet, she found herself hoping that he’d be back soon. She wondered if he was getting more supplies for her.

She finished up the berries and shifted uncomfortably to return to laying on her back. Every muscle and bone in her body had been pushed to their limits and they were not about to let her forget it.

Rheda pulled away the furs to expose her leg to the cool air. There it was. The mark that Hvitserk had left on her was surprisingly neat; it appeared that he had taken great care to make sure that he wouldn’t tear her skin too much as he drank from her. She supposed that she should be grateful for that. Despite its neatness, she had a feeling it was going to leave a scar.

Curiously, she wondered if she would have a vision if she touched it. She still didn’t fully know how her powers worked, thanks to spending her entire life doing her best to suppress them. She supposed that now was good of a time as ever to try to understand herself better. She gingerly reached down to brush her fingertips against the scab.

Hvitserk was rummaging through what looked to be a small hunting shack. He frowned at the cupboard he’s finished digging through and moved into the next one. He withdrew a dense load of bread from inside. Behind him, she saw the shack’s owner slumped onto the floor, his eyes staring at nothing as blood slowly trickled from a large hole in his throat.

When Rheda was back to herself, she shuddered after seeing yet another dead body. Nonetheless, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of victory for finally allowing herself to explore her curse.

Rheda thoughtfully examined the bruises that the viscount had left on her wrist. She traced the largest one with her index finger. Nothing. She didn’t get it. Why was it so inconsistent? Why had she received visions when touching her previous suitors, but not Hvitserk? Was there any pattern to this whatsoever?

“Interesting,” She heard a soft voice say, causing her to jump. She scrambled to her feet and looked around for the source of it, finding no one.

It didn’t sound like Hvitserk. She tried to suppress her dread as she realized that she was about to meet the other Northman.

Rheda swallowed and called out, “What’s interesting?”

“Our mother could see things, too.” The Northman sounded as if he was in the same room as her, but she couldn’t pinpoint where thanks to the echo within the huge sanctum. “But if I recall, she mostly saw it all in dreams.”

“Where are you?” Rheda replied, trying to keep her voice cool and even.

A gloved hand appeared over the back of one of the pews and waved at her. Somehow, the wave was sarcastic.

She sighed, keeping herself collected. The first thing that she could think of to say was, “You can’t possibly be comfortable laying down on that thing.”

She heard a slight shuffling sound come from the pew; she assumed that he’d shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”

“I used to have to sit on those for hours listening to sermons.” Rheda responded wryly.

“Sounds boring.”

“Excruciatingly.” She confirmed.

The Northman tsked at her. “You disrespectful girl. Calling your God dull in his own home.”

“I was talking about the sermons, not Him.” She countered.

“It’s His word, isn’t it?” She heard the smile in the Northman’s patronizing voice.

He was lucky that she was too scared of him to march over there and slap him. Instead, she simply stated, “You are reading far too much into my words.”

To her dismay, that smug tone of voice was still present when he spoke again, “Am I bothering you, girl?”

Without hesitation, she snapped. “Yes.”

The Northman snorted. A moment later, the pew creaked as he sat up and turned to her, folding his arms on the back of his seat. Rheda averted her eyes slightly to his left, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

“You’re awfully bold, aren’t you?” He asked, his tone more playful, but still obnoxious. “Is that why you were being chased? Did you say something brazen to your groom that caused him to set his hounds on you?”

“No,” She replied honestly. “I rarely dared to speak to him, and it was mostly pleasantries to keep him appeased.”

“You dare to speak to me.” He pointed out.

“You leave me no choice.” She muttered.

The Northman laughed. “I suppose I haven’t.”

Admittedly, he wasn’t the most unpleasant person she’d ever had a conversation with, but her standards were set kind of low, in the regard. However, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was going to try to get something out of her. Make her give something away that she didn’t know was important yet. But what could she possibly know that he’d want? Hvitserk had already asked for the viscount’s name, which she was unable to provide. What else was there? Her powers, maybe? She couldn’t entirely explain those either.

The Northman laid his chin on his folded arms with a soft exhale. “You’re overthinking things. I have no underlying motivations. We’re just talking.”

“Why read my mind then?” She questioned.

He shrugged. “Habit.”

She furrowed her brow and politely argued, “I’ll say that it makes it a bit hard for me to converse naturally with someone that can eavesdrop on my thoughts before I can speak them.”

He tilted his head. “What if I let you direct the conversation?”

Rheda hesitated. That was when she heard Hvitserk’s voice as clear as her own thoughts. “He’s bored. You can either find something to discuss, or he’ll keep trying to get under your skin. Or he’ll find some other way to amuse himself.”

She couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t take time to reassure her that she wasn’t in any danger, like he had previously.

Rheda sighed, trying to mask her anxiety. “I… suppose this would be a good opportunity to get some answers I’ve been wanting.”

The Northman waved a hand, prompting her to begin.

She swallowed, “To start, I’d like to know who I’m speaking to.”

“Ivar.” He replied simply.

Her brow crinkled as she realized that that name sounded dreadfully familiar: “Boneless?”

He nodded once. “So you’ve heard of me.”

So not only was he a vampire, he was also one of the most fearsome Vikings to have ever lived. Go figure.

“I’ve heard some… things. I take it that Hvitserk is one of your brothers?”

Ivar chuckled, smiling slyly, “He didn’t tell you that? Didn’t you two talk about anything before I got here?”

To her chagrin, she heard Hvitserk’s sultry voice in her mind again, “My mouth was busy with other things.”

Cheeks burning, Rheda stammered, “He… ah, wasn’t much for conversation.”

Ivar’s leaned forward with a devious gleam in his eyes, “Was he the first man you let touch you?”

“Clearly, you already know the answer to that.”

His smile only grew. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

It wasn’t just enough for him to taunt her, he wanted to make her say it.

Rheda was beginning to get frustrated. Mostly, she was frustrated with herself for allowing him to get under her skin so easily, but there was a part of her that was even more frustrated at entertaining all this in the first place. What was the point of all of this?

She took a deep breath, shook her head, then sternly asked, “Why am I here?”

Ivar frowned and tilted his head to the side with a click of his tongue, “You chose this place, Rheda. You tell me.”

Rheda shook her head again, shifting her gaze just slightly closer to him to observe his reaction, “I mean, why am I still alive?”

“Despite what you’ve probably been told, we don’t kill indiscriminately. You’re alive because we want you to be.”

Rheda thought back to the dead man Hvitserk left in the hunting shack. She wouldn’t accept his answer, so she pressed further, “It has something to do with the viscount, doesn’t it? Believe me, if I could tell you something that could hurt him, I would do so enthusiastically.”

Ivar smirked. “But you can. In fact, you already have.”

Rheda let the confusion show on her face. Seeing her expression, Ivar continued, “You mentioned to Hvitserk that he was too paranoid to give you his name, yes? He was even more cautious with his underlings. He won’t even show his men his face, preferring to issue orders through letters to keep his identity secret.”

That would explain why the viscount was wrong about so much: he’d most likely never actually seen a vampire. He just dictated others on where to go and what to do.

The pew complained again as Ivar rose up from it, keeping his eyes on her. “While Hvitserk came to meet you, I followed your trail the opposite way. I’ve seen the viscount’s estate. It’s under such heavy guard that it’s truly impressive that you were able to get away without any assistance.”

“I walked out the front door.” Rheda muttered.

His eyebrows came together incredulously, “What? Just like that?”

Rheda nodded, pleased to have finally wiped the arrogant expression off of his face, at least for the time being, “Just like that.”

“When was that?”

“A little after midday. Most of his guards sleep during the daylight, so there aren’t as many sulking about.”

He nodded slowly, his prideful grin returning, “See? You do know something.”

He began taking a few steps closer, like one would so as not to frighten an easily-startled animal. This made her feel uneasy, but she stood her ground rather than trying to put more distance between them.

Rheda kept her voice even, “That’s probably the only helpful thing I can provide.”

“That’s not entirely true.” He approached, still not making any sudden movements, then stopped to lean against the back of the pew closest to her. She was still well out of arm’s reach, but that didn’t bring any comfort. She stared at his broad chest to avoid his eyes.

Her unease only grew as she felt him scrutinizing her from head to toe, looking at her in a way that was not so different from how a butcher would look at a plump pig. She nervously sputtered in an effort to keep him talking, “So, uh… you said something earlier about not knowing what the viscount looks-”

Ivar interrupted her, “This isn’t the first time that you’ve seen me before, is it?”

Rheda nodded hesitantly.

“What did you see?” He asked calmly.

“I saw you make the hunting party that was tracking me kill each other.” She admitted.

“Oh,” He folded his arms across his chest. When he spoke again, his voice had softened a bit, sounding convincingly similar to empathy, “That explains why you’ve avoided looking at me all night. That must have been terrifying for you.”

Rheda didn’t know how to respond to that, so she just nodded again, keeping her eyes low.

“Since we’ve met, you’ve been very forthcoming, which I appreciate. As long as you keep doing what you’re doing, you can be assured that I’ll have no reason to do the same to you.”

That was not reassuring in the slightest.

Ivar shrugged resignedly. “I know that’s not exactly what you wanted to hear, but I’m not going to comfort you with false promises. You’re safe from that fate, as long as you don’t do anything rash. That’s all the assurance I can offer you without lying to you.”

Rheda prepared herself as she finally met his eyes. As nervous as being around him made her, she had to admit that he was stunning. Of course she had noticed his looks in her premonitions, but it was another thing entirely to have him right there, those impossibly blue eyes boring right into her soul.

He raised an eyebrow at her, “I didn’t mean you had to gawk at me.”

She narrowed her eyes angrily, “You wanted me to look at you, I’m looking at you. You have no reason to complain.”

Ivar chuckled and shook his head slightly, as he jokingly asked “Am I as handsome in your visions as I am in person?”

Her cheeks got a little pink, “Better in person. But only because you’re not terrorizing anyone, at the moment.”

His gaze traveled over her body in return. Even though his expression didn’t change, Rheda noticed that his eyes darkened as he surveyed her.

She could tell that he was hungry.

The shadows continued to grow in his irises, “You know what’s about to happen, don’t you?” He didn’t say it like a question.

Rheda swallowed nervously and nodded. She felt like she should run, or fight, or hide, just do something, but she knew that it wouldn’t do any good. Despite her nervousness, Rheda had pretty much accepted that she was going to get bitten again. However, it hadn’t been all that horrible the last time it had happened. That thing Hvitserk did with his tongue had made the experience much easier to endure, and even enjoyable. Maybe this time could be just as euphoric?

He spoke again, “It’s been three days, which is quite a long time. The one thing I can promise is that I won’t take much.”

“One thing first,” she interjected. Ivar sighed impatiently, but he waited for her to continue. She couldn’t believe what she was about to ask. “When your brother drank from me, it was… pleasant. I know that there’s no way for me to get out of this, and I’m a bit afraid, admittedly, so… would it be too much to ask for you… um…also make this pleasant?”

He furrowed his brows and tilted his head in a parody of confusion, “Are you asking me to fuck you, Rheda?”

Of course he would be that crass. She didn’t need her curse to be able to predict that he was probably going to make her say it, too. However, as much as she hated to admit it to herself, there was a part of her that liked his shameless vulgarity.

Flushed, Rheda replied, “Yes.”

The beginnings of a smirk playing his lips, Ivar purred. “Yes, what?”

Just as she thought, he wasn’t going to let her go easily.

He raised his eyebrows as if to say, “Go on.”

Face bright red, Rheda sighed, and whispered, “I want you to fuck me.”

Her body felt even hotter afterwards, but in a different way. Her embarrassment was quickly intermingling with lust, creating a bizarre combination of emotions.

Ivar’s smile grew and he unfolded his arms, extending a leather-clad hand towards her, his palm facing upward. Burning up, Rheda stepped forward and gingerly tangled her fingers with his. She expected him to pull her closer, but he didn’t, allowing her to approach him instead as he held her hand.

Rheda placed her free hand on his shoulder as she came closer. In return, Ivar’s fingers traced the lacing on the back of her dress. She released his hand and slowly trailed her fingers up his forearm, to his shoulder, and ended her path at his chiseled jaw. He closed his eyes and leaned into her hand.

Rheda gathered up enough courage to learn forward and press her lips against his. Those pouty lips were even more plush than they looked. There was a part of her that couldn’t believe herself. This was the second man that she’d kissed in one night, soon to be the second man that she would allow to touch her. But this self-flagellation was instantly forgotten as Ivar used the hand on her back to press her against him. Her lips parted slightly, which he took as an invitation to explore the inside of her mouth with his tongue.

Ivar’s hand had traveled back up to the lacing on her dress. Not long after, Rheda felt the garment beginning to come loose and slide from her shoulders. Reflexively, she slapped one hand over the bodice to keep it from completely falling off.

They stared at each other for a moment, Ivar completely expressionless while Rheda’s mouth and eyes were wide. Wordlessly, Ivar reached forward and gently pulled her hand away. The dress dropped to the ground. Rheda instinctively tried to use her arms to cover herself, but Ivar didn’t release her, leaving her completely exposed in front of him. As she stood there completely nude while those intense blue eyes glided over every inch of her skin, Rheda noted that she’d never felt so vulnerable in her life.

Ivar pulled her close again and rasped into her ear, “I am going savor you.”

He gently, but firmly wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and leaned forward to trace his tongue around one of her nipples. She hissed inwardly as the tip of his tongue sent little sparks of pleasure through her. She curled her fingers around his dark braids, cradling his head against her. A little moan escaped her lips as she felt his teeth lightly scrape her skin.

Ivar dragged his long tongue from her breast up to her throat. Rheda closed her eyes and tilted her head back as much as she could with his hand on her neck, gasping as she felt the growing warmth between her legs intensify. His mouth covered hers again in a kiss that was much more passionate than the one that they’d shared earlier as they greedily tasted each other. She grasped his powerful shoulders harder, tugging a bit at his jerkin.

Ivar broke the kiss briefly to ask, “Want me to take this off?”

To which, Rheda nodded feverishly, too out of breath to speak.

“Can you get the straps on the back for me?”

He pulled her against his chest. Rheda prepared herself to be toyed with as she started to feel along his back for the straps. Right as she found one and began to follow it to locate a buckle, he began to kiss up and down the column of her neck. She tried not to let this distract her as she found the first buckle and tried to figure out how to undo them from this odd angle.

Just after she got the first one undone, Ivar surprised her by sliding two long fingers into her folds, earning a drawn out gasp from her. She felt him smile into her neck. What a cruel, evil man.

Rheda had a much harder time finding the other buckles as his fingers strummed at that little piece of heaven deep within her. She rocked her hips against his hand as shameless, erotic noises escaped her lips.

Ivar bit her neck playfully, then pretended to be annoyed as he sighed, “You sure are taking your time, girl.”

“You... oh! You have no one… but yourself to blame.” She retorted between gasps.

That only encouraged him to increase his torment by slowing down to a torturous snail’s pace. Rheda whined, rolling her hips against his fingers.

“Is it easier to concentrate now?” He whispered smugly.

Rheda began to wonder if he was the Devil in the flesh as she finally found another buckle. Right when she was about to have it completely undone, Ivar quickened his pace again and brushed his thumb against the spot that Hvitserk had uncovered with his tongue earlier. She gripped the strap tightly so that she wouldn’t lose track of it as she cried out.

Despite the maddening pleasure, she somehow managed to get it undone. She found another one right behind his neck and got that one as the wonderful torment continued.

Ivar nipped her earlobe before taunting her again, “You have just one more. Think you can get it?”

Rheda braced herself for whatever he was going to do next as she tried to get the last buckle. She could feel the knot in her lower abdomen getting tighter and tighter.

Unexpectedly, Ivar’s fingers stopped moving. She paused, the stillness within her getting to her quickly. When she moved her hips, needy for more, it just didn’t hit the right spots. Even the kisses on her neck had stopped. The buckle was almost undone. She pulled at it just as she felt him insert another finger into her, then begin his assault on her senses yet again, the new feeling of fullness intensifying the sensations. He gripped her hair as he resumed kissing and nibbling at her neck. She was so close to getting it undone, but he seemed hellbent on making her come undone first.

The buckle got caught on something. No! Naturally, Ivar took full advantage of this and worked her harder. She struggled with it, trying and failing to hold back her squeals behind clenched teeth. The knot was close to snapping. The buckle was almost loose. She just had to hang in there for just one more second. If only she could get the damn thing unstuck. Almost. There.

Just in time, she managed to get the strap free just as her body clenched around his fingers. Rheda squeezed her eyes shut and cried out again as she gripped his shoulders for support. Her entire body quaked as her climax overtook her. He kept going as she rode it out, leaving her limp and panting in his arms by the time it had passed.

She heard Ivar’s prideful voice in her ear again, “That wasn’t so hard, hm?”

Rheda was too busy recovering from what he’d just done to her to think of anything to say. All she could do was grumble at him.

He released her to pull his jerkin off, followed by the tunic underneath, revealing his incredible figure. Rheda was in awe, her eyes following the hypnotic, swirling lines of his tattoos. The lines of the artwork adorning his body accentuated muscles that had seemingly had been sculpted by devils for the sole purpose of tempting her. She readily gave in to it, unthinkingly reaching forward to trace one of her fingers along one of the tattoos on his chest.

For one odd second, she could have sworn that Ivar had looked relieved when he saw her gaping at him, as if he was used to a different reaction. The idea that this gorgeous man could be possibly be insecure about his appearance was perplexing, but she reminded herself that she knew very little about him and his experiences.

It didn’t take long for the cocky demeanor that she found both irritating and alluring to return to his handsome face as he continued to undress. When he got to his pants, he paused, then reached forward to pull Rheda into another kiss. Allowing him to distract her, she closed her eyes and sucked on his lower lip. She heard the pants hit the ground, followed by two more thuds after that. She noticed that his hands were bare now as he unexpectedly picked her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck for support, but soon discovered that this was unnecessary as she suddenly felt the furs she’d woken up on at her back. She opened her eyes to find that Ivar was on top of her. His hips were still positioned between her legs and he used his forearms to keep some of his weight off of her.

This was it. Soon, she wasn’t going to be a maiden anymore. She would have thought that she’d be more nervous, but instead, she was excited. She hoped it would be at least half as incredible as what both Northmen had done for her already. Her legs fell open wider in anticipation.

Ivar caressed her cheek with his hand and pressed his lips to hers again. Rheda kept her arms around his neck, bracing herself. She’d heard that the first time hurts, but she hoped that was just a lie to scare young women out of giving themselves away frivolously.

His hands made their way down to her hips. Soon after, she felt something hard and definitely bigger than his three fingers start to press itself into her folds. Rheda’s eyes snapped open and she tried to crane her neck to look, but Ivar used his thumb to tilt her chin up, gently forcing her to stare into his eyes.

“Eyes on me, girl.” He commanded softly.

Rheda let her eyes flit away once, just to see if she had the option, then met his penetrating gaze once more as she choose to obey. He stroked her cheek with his thumb as he continued to slowly enter her. Rheda felt herself stretching to accommodate him, thankfully facilitated by her earlier climax. It didn’t hurt necessarily, but it was a bit uncomfortable and she couldn’t help but grimace at the sensation.

After what felt like an eternity, she squeezed her eyes shut as she felt him settle deep within her. He was finally buried to the hilt. She was stretched so much that her discomfort was at its peak, but it still wasn’t entirely painful. Her eyes still closed, she let him tilt her chin up and pepper kisses along the column of her neck. Thankfully, he didn’t move within her yet, allowing her to get used to the sensation of being full of him.

Slowly, Rheda let her eyelids flutter open as the discomfort began to subside.

He whispered into her ear, “Ready?”

She breathed out a small, “Yes.”

Still moving slowly, she felt him withdraw from her a bit, then thrust back into her. She hissed and clutched at his shoulders. Again, it didn’t necessarily hurt, but it wasn’t exactly pleasant at the moment. Ivar’s hips continued in those slow circles as his mouth left her neck to tease at her breast again. Rheda let out a soft moan as his tongue circled her nipple.

After a while, her body got used to this rhythm and the discomfort eventually faded away. Ivar released her breast and fastened his lips to hers again, the pace of his hips quickening. Now, it was beginning to feel good. Really good. Rheda moaned into his lips as his cock prodded that delicious spot within her.

Ivar broke the kiss and pulled one of her legs up and around his waist, the new angle making it so that each thrust brought him against that spot. Small, feminine noises left Rheda’s mouth with each roll of his hips. In turn, Ivar’s contented grunts joined hers. Rheda put her hands on his back to bring him closer.

He ran his hand up her thigh and between her legs to circle her bud, still a bit sensitive from her earlier climax. Rheda’s hips bucked at his touch, just in time with one of his thrusts, causing her to cry out wantonly. She could feel her body beginning to tighten again. She closed her eyes, unintentionally digging her fingernails into his back, which seemed to encourage him to slam into her harder.

Between his pace and the relentless circling of his fingers, Rheda didn’t last much longer. When the euphoric waves overtook her again, she clenched around him, pulling him closer as she threw her head back. Ivar leaned into her to sink his teeth into the side of her neck. Oddly enough, the pain of his bite only added to her pleasure. She reached up to stroke his hair as he drank deeply. Not long after, he buried himself deep inside of her as he reached his own release.

Rheda began to feel warmth spread throughout her entire being as she let him drain her blood. Being beneath him felt like home. She would never have anything to worry about ever again as long as she was around him. She began to feel dreamy, like she was floating.

Her reverie broke somewhat when she heard the door open. Ivar didn’t seem phased and lifted his head to greet his brother nonchalantly, Rheda’s blood glistening on his pouty lips.

Hvitserk cheerfully smiled at her, not seeming to mind that his brother was between her legs. “I got a few things for you to eat once you’re done.”

I wanna be wicked, I wanna tell lies

I wanna be mean, and throw mud pies"

Ivar's ice blue eyes remain fixed on her, and only her. His body is angled toward the stage. He's still holding the rim of his glass at his lips. He meant to take a drink minutes ago.

Roman breaks his eyes from the stage first and studies the room. Everyone is hypnotized. And, though he hates to admit it, he is too.

This bitch cursed us.

He wants revenge, but he also wants to fuck her, bad. He's never desired someone so much before, he'd take her right on that stage if he could. Fuck the crowd, they can watch.

At the same time, Roman is trying to convince himself she has no effect on him, none at all. He's not vulnerable to her charms. Ivar is.

No. Roman is fucking angry. And hungry. And needs to shed blood. He is not drooling over this evil witch.  

Still, his lies don't work.

His eyes float back to her. He continues to watch with a hard on as she saunters across the stage. He can still taste her on his lips from their make out and feel her soft skin under his touch.

Every time her hands move up the mic, he imagines them on his cock. The way lyrics roll off her tongue, give him all kinds of dirty ideas about her mouth.

"Fuck." Roman cursed under his breath then tore his eyes away from the stage.

He knows it's bad when he starts biting his thumb. It's a nervous habit he never dropped from childhood. When he breaks skin, from sheer pressure, he sucks the blood then hides his hand under the bar.

No one's looking at him anyway, not that he cares. Well, except for the blue-eyed woman who looks like she wants to kill them. Or fuck them, or both. Roman flashes a smug grin at her, then glances at Ivar.

"The little devil in the black dress, who do you think?" he nudges Ivar when he doesn't get a response. "Her familiar or something? Think they’re fucking?” Roman locks eyes with Dahlia across the room, "shit, I'd love to watch that."

Ivar is silent, eyes still ahead.

“I wanna be nasty, I wanna be cruel

I wanna be daring, I wanna shoot pool"

Roman nudges him again. Ivar finally lowers the cup but doesn't look away from the stage. “What?”

“That little devil over there.” Roman stares at Ivar now, waiting for a response. “I bet we can take them both.”

Ivar doesn't respond.

"I wanna be horrid, I wanna drink booze

And whatever I've got I'm eager to lose

I wanna be evil, little evil me

Just as mean and evil as I can be"

Roman kicks Ivar's foot. "Snap out of it, Ivar."

Irritated, Ivar turns to him, “Fuck, what?”

“Shit! You’re into her.”

Ivar holds his gaze, smirks, then turns back to the stage.

“Shit man,” Roman taps his hand against the counter and looks around, searching the room for something, anything. He's getting antsy again, sitting around on her clock isn't working for him.

I could snatch up the little one. Use that knife she keeps twirling around. Cut her and her blood. Fuck her, then kill her.

Show this Valentina bitch we meant business.

To Roman, Ivar is wasting time. If it was up to Roman, they'd be done with this and out of here already. On the way to the next town with no evil witch vampires and their knife happy lovers in it.

Valentina 

The bartender slides a martini to Valentina.

“You were fantastic tonight, as always.”

Valentina winks at her, then reclines back. Down the bar, at the opposite end, sit the brothers. She makes eye contact with them.

Roman is barely able to sit still. He has a mix of tells, his thumb, jumping his leg, commenting to himself. She's surprised he's managed to stay in his seat for this long. He's like a dog on the leash, ready to attack.

Ivar on the other hand appears calmer. She can feel the hunger and anger from both of them, but something about Ivar is more - contained. She knows Ivar is working his brain, coming up with a way to get her back.

Valentina beckons them over by raising her glass. Roman jumps up first. With his long legs and rushed steps, he reaches her quickly. Ivar is right behind him.

Roman leans into her space and cages her in with one arm as he rests his hand on the counter.

“You think this shit is funny?” he asked aggressively.

Valentina only grins at him, takes a sip of her drink, then gazes at Ivar. She takes him in, head to toe.

She teases her lips with the rim of the glass, eyes locked on Ivars, “He’s got a temper huh?"

Ivar closes in, limiting her personal space even more as he stands on the other side of her.

“Now that you’ve had your fun with us, Valentina. What are your plans?”

She finishes the rest of her drink and stands. “That’s something we discuss in private.”

Roman grabs her left arm, jerking her against him. Her eyes lose their warmth and grow dark as she stares at him.

"You like to play rough, don't you Roman." She hisses.

Ivar steps in. He pulls Roman's hand away from her arm. Then, turns to Valentina, “What are we waiting for then?”

Valentina inclines her body toward Ivar, close enough to brush her nose against his,

“The voice of reason, yet, I taste your chaos too,” she runs the nail of her index finger down his cheek, “I don’t know who is worst, you or him” Her eyes jump to Roman, “perhaps you are equally wicked - Romans just more - openly unhinged.”

"What the fuck does that mean?" Roman asks with tense brows.

Valentina chuckles then slips away from the brothers. Purposely rubbing against them as she does, her backside against Roman, and front against Ivar.  Free of their hovering, she walks backward toward the staircase.

“Dahlia will fetch you in 5. Don’t tempt her, she gets a little stabby.”

Valentina turns and heads up to the office.

Everyone 

Exactly five minutes later, Dahlia approaches the bar. Crossing her arms, she raises a brow at them.

“With me. Don’t try anything.”

Dahlia reveals her blade, light reflects off the surface.

Roman scoffs, "I bet you fuck with that thing in your hand too, don't you?"

Dahlia narrows her eyes at him, then points the blade his way. “I don’t like you. I rather just gut you both and be done with this," her eyes jump to Ivar, then Roman. "Apparently, she wants to play with her food.”

Ivar smiles, and it irritates Dahlia even more. She rolls her eyes. "Why are you smiling?”

Ivar shrugs. “You are kind of cute, in a murderous way. Roman," he makes eye contact with his brother, "let’s guess - “

They smile and exchange a nod, then say at the same time, " a demon?"

Dahlia's green eyes turn completely black, then go back to normal. She sneers, then leads the way to the office. "Shut up and follow me."

Everyone

The bar itself looks like a vampire's fantasy, but her office, it takes the cake. It's dark, sensual, mainly illumined by candlelight and a sultry red light overhead. The couch and her chair are both made of black velvet.

The brothers sit on the couch and continue taking in the room. At first, they didn't feel Valentina. When the high back chair behind the desk swivels, it catches them off guard. She cloaked herself, same as she did that first night they came to the bar.

“Hi boys.”

Before Ivar can stop him, Roman is on his feet and speeds to the desk. He slams his hand down angrily, “what the fuck do you want?”

Valentina observes him with a grin.

Eventually, she replies, “I want to know how two vampires got into my fucking town.” She presses her hands flat on the table.

Roman clenches his jaw. His eyes drop down to her cleavage, they linger there a moment before he drags them back up.

Valentina narrows her eyes at him. “That barrier is unbreakable. Yet, you two entered it. How did you do it?”

Ivar shakes his head, “that's what this is about?”

Roman stands up, “I guess the Queen doesn't want anyone fucking up her reign. A whole town to yourself. Pretty greedy you think?”

“You’re one to talk Roman."

Valentina rounds the desk, then leans against the front of it. Her body facing Ivar, her head tilted toward Roman.

"When I spelled you, I saw everything.”

“We don’t know how we broke it.” Ivar cut in.  

Her eyes meet his, “Ivar, thank you for your honesty…” she takes a beat, then glances at Dahlia who remains by the now closed door. The two exchange a knowing look. Dahlia moves to the back of the room.

Valentina's eyes leave Dahlias, then floats to the guys.

“I’ll free you from part of my little spell, once I have what I need. “

She snaps her fingers and Roman is thrust backward to the couch. Despite their protests and efforts, both of them are stuck, unable to stand or move. Valentina now has control over their bodies.

“You see, “she holds out her hand and Dahlia places one syringe in it. “I suspect it has something to do with you both being part Upir. I’ve been around a long time, but I’ve never heard of that...two vampire genes in one family. It's the sort of thing to evoke the mad scientist in a gal.”

Ivar tries to move; she can see the strain in his neck. "What is that for?"

She walks over to them but doesn't answer.

“What are we? You lab rats?” Ivar yells.

“Not exactly. You will help me perfect my boundary spell. Once I understand your blood, I'll know what I’m missing. “

Valentina climbs into Roman's lap. She takes her time settling in, painfully slow. The friction of her body against his is shifting his mind to more than his anger.

Valentina settles in with a purr, “Oh, Roman...you are a big boy!”

She locks one arm around his neck and licks the side of his face. All he can do is watch; he can't even palm his erection. Grabbing a fist full of his hair, Valentina tugs hard. Roman growls and curses at her.

“Such a dirty mouth too. We may have to do something about that.” She pouts at him, then, without warning, plunges the needle in the side of his neck.

Her lips fall open, fangs drop as it fills with blood.

Ivars eyes jump between the big ass needle and the way she grinds on Roman.

Though they are in a situation that is far from in their favor, it was kind of funny seeing Roman being tortured so much.

Once she has what she needs, Valentina caps the needle and hands it to Dahlia.

She smooths her palm over Roman's hair, “Who knows, your blood may hold other gems for me.”

Leaning in, she laps up the rest of the blood with her tongue. Roman moans and tries to grab her, he can't lift his arms. Roman drops his head back.

Fuck, he exhales. He's over stimulated and starving and pissed. Now he had a damn erection, and he can't do anything about.

Valentina playfully slaps his cheek, then shifts her attention to Ivar.

“Now, my favorite one.” She coos.

Valentina moves to Ivar's lap, running her hands down his chest as she settles in.

“The last Upir I met was…. 101 years ago? I thought they were extinct. Yet here you are.” She tilts Ivars's head to the side, exposing his neck, “maybe you breaking my barrier wasn't so bad after all.”

“Maybe it wasn't.” Ivar replies. But there is no humor in his tone, its dark, and heavy, same as his eyes.

He's upset, yes. He wants to break this spell, yes. But his most pressing need is to have her, to consume her, to make her moan and purr beneath him.

Another reason he seems calmer than Roman is because he actually likes this town. They've been to so many places not worth remembering, but this, this is exciting.

This, they'll remember this forever.

And Valentina, even if she is an enemy to conquer, is one of the most fascinating beings he's ever met. Ivar can't recall the last time he's been intrigued by anything, and everything about this has his full attention.

Ivar's always found a comfort in witches. Not just because they taste delicious. Their mother was a witch. So was their grandmother. He's always been fond of them, and in a way, wished he acquired some of those traits too. Magic skipped the men in the line and went only to the women. Though, Ivar has always been more magically inclined than Roman.

His hunger for adventure and mystery has finally been fed by this town, and by discovering what he thought to be myth, is a reality.

As Ivars thoughts run away from him, Valentina observes him. She takes in every little detail of his face, caressing it with her fingers as she does. They both remain unresponsive to Romans comments and curses. Since she climbed into his lap, Ivar hasn't looked at anything else but Valentina.

"Really drawing this out ey?" Dahlia comments with a sigh.

"See, one thing we can agree on." Roman looks at her.

Valentina ignores them both. She rests on hand on Ivars's neck, the other on his cheek.

This is a rare feeling, becoming so lost in someone. His eyes are near impossible to look away from, they plunge her into the depths of the sea. She barely pulls herself back to land.

Diverting her eyes, she took a breath and grabbed the needle as Dahlia held it out. Without warning, she plunges it into his neck. Her eyes meet his again.

Ivar stays still, barely making a sound as he holds her gaze. The moment feeling so erotic the rest of the room vanishes. When Valentina pulls the needle out, she quickly caps it. Dropping her mouth to his neck she sucks hard, taking in as much of his blood as she can.

Ivar closes his eyes, savoring the sensations. Valentina jerks her head back, then greedily claims his mouth with her own.

“Gross.” Romans' eyes travel the room, the settle on Dahlia. “Hey, demon, why don’t you help me out?” He points to his cock with his eyes.

“I’d kill you before I'd fuck you.” Dahlia hisses.

Ivar laughs. “You two should just make out already.” His words are directed at them, his eyes locked on Valentina. She hasn't moved from his lap.

Valentina glances at Dahlia, “Don’t deny the sexual tension, I can taste it.”

Dahlia frowns, "I stopped fucking men a long time ago. Not happening."

Valentina climbs out of Ivars lap. She hands the syringe to Dahlia.

“Okay boys, here’s the deal.” Valentina turns to them, “you stay as long as I need you to stay. If I need more blood, I take it. I’ll provide your meals, but you cannot kill them. Bite them, fuck them, but no killing. Got it? The only way you can feed in Whispering Pines is if I allow it."

Roman laughs, "un-fucking-believable."

Ivar smirks, but it's not a pleasant one, “You can’t enforce that.”

“I can.” Valentina points to the vials of blood. "I own you now, both of you. Dahlia, bring up the girls.”

Dahlia leaves with the blood.

Roman challenges Valentina, “So, we are your little bitches now? Until you’re finished with us?”

Valentina crosses her arms and flashes a smug grin. “Pretty much, yeah.”

Roman tries to move, he grows more upset, “You can't just grind on us and leave us like this!"

“I’m in a kind mood tonight Roman, lucky you. I have a gift."

Dahlia returns with two women.

Valentina gestures to them, "A thank you for your participation.”

She stands next to Dahlia and drapes her arm around her.

"Boys, before the fun starts, a word of advice. Don't test me. You'll regret it. It's much nicer being on my good side."

Valentina follows up her threat with a chant, it's a language neither of them have ever heard before. Suddenly, they can move again, their fangs drop down. Their cheers and relief instantly filled the room.

Valentina addresses the women, "undress."

Happily, the two women abide.

"I found a couple of vampire groupies, I know how much you like them," Valentina said casually.

She and Dahlia make eye contact, communicate nonverbally then Dahlia leaves.

Valentina perches herself up on the desk and crosses her legs. “I'll be right here in case any of you try to kill one of my girls. Remember, feed. fuck. No killing."

As she watches them, Ivar watches her.

The cute naked woman sauntering his way is appealing, but, he wants Valentina more.

As predicted, Roman and his lady are already going at it, making out hot and heavy as she undresses him. The other woman is kneeled before Ivar. She unbuttons his pants. Ivar grabs her hair, enjoying her touch, and keeping eyes on Valentina.

Next

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