Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 59320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
The sword he had drawn, a few feet away and pointed straight at us, was not my father’s. No, I could still see that sword, out there on the road where Odette had crawled, being picked up by a tall Viking, his fair skin splattered head to toe with blood. He turned the sword over in his hands, admiring it curiously, and I wanted to scream at him for touching it.
The Viking closest to me snarled something again and gave a grin so wicked, so disgusting, that I felt a legion of insects crawl down my spine.
Before I had time to react, the one-eyed Viking lunged forward and speared Odette right in the chest, again opening what wound she had there before.
I screamed as the sword withdrew, and Odette’s hands clutched her chest harder, red blood spilling through her fingers onto the ground. She gasped for breath, for life, and I felt nothing but the utter helplessness and horror of my sister being stabbed in front of my eyes.
“Ross!” a bellow rang out.
Suddenly, the other Viking was at our side, pushing the cyclops away. I saw my father’s sword still in his hands, and I knew that, with every last bit of strength, I would fight to get it back.
The Viking with my father’s sword yelled at this Ross again, his tone more vicious, until Odette’s assailant shrugged and ran off down the road toward the carnage.
Odette was now on the ground, struggling to stay alive, and I kept both my arms around her shoulders, as if I could keep her breathing that way. I looked up at the Viking, hoping I could kill him simply with the look in my eyes.
The Viking stared down at me, as though caught up in some internal dialogue with himself. He was tall and well-defined, with muscles that sloped away from the rough cut of his cowhide skirt. His eyes were a dead grey, like the smoke-filled sky, but something light sparked from within them. Still, I saw only a monster. A murderer. A barbarian.
The man knelt on the ground, and I tried to shrink away. Surely, this man would hurt me, rape me, then kill me. I was next. I would die painfully, just like my whole family had. And now, Odette was dead weight in my arms, her chest no longer rising.
The man didn’t say anything for the longest time. He looked between Odette’s lifeless body and my face, clearly debating something. I felt like I was having a staring contest with a lone wolf whose pack was only a howl away.
He leaned forward and, in broken French, commanded, “Go. Run. Now.”
I frowned. That he spoke French almost confused me more than the fact that he was telling me to run. It didn’t make any sense, and all I could do was grip Odette’s shoulders harder.
“Run. Run now!” he repeated roughly, annoyance flashing in his eyes.
I opened my mouth to say something, though I wasn’t sure what, when a deep voice called out from behind him, “Erik?”
The Viking’s eyes met mine again, and before I had a chance to react, he raised my father’s sword in the air and brought the handle down on my head.
Pain exploded from behind my eyes, and I slumped over Odette, joining her in the darkness.
Chapter 4
Erik
Erik hadn’t meant to hit the woman so hard, but when Rolf’s voice shot out, he panicked.
He whipped around to see Rolf storming toward him, the ground trembling as he neared. He straightened and stood in front of the sprawled women, hoping to block them.
“What are you doing over here?” Rolf asked, peering over Erik’s shoulder. “Killing maidens, are we? That seems like something the old Erik would do.”
Erik’s face took on the blank mask of indifference he had mastered over the years.
“Ross did it,” he explained.
Rolf put his meaty hand on his shoulder and pushed him out of the way. He crouched low to the ground and peered at the girls.
“Great tits on this one.” He leered at the girl’s full breasts that rose out of the night shift. Erik felt himself get hard as he watched. He was no stranger to the combination of sex and violence, and he learned to be less ashamed by that fact as the years went on.
Rolf reached for the big-breasted girl’s wrist and felt for a pulse. “And she’s alive too.” He looked up at Erik curiously. “Planning on using her for something?”
Erik nodded. “I didn’t want Ross to get to her first.”
Rolf watched him for a few beats then turned back to the girl, stroking the pale skin of her inner arm. “Yes, Ross can be quite thorough when he’s done with women.”
“He fucked their sister then sliced her head right off.”
Rolf grunted, amused, and started peeling up the girl’s night shift. “As I said…thorough.”