Viking King (The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors, Book 1) (13 page)

Innocent, he shrugged as a dimple-ridden grin crawled onto his face. “Might have no choice in the matter, Sea Siren.”

The blood in her veins grew sluggish and the wind almost seemed to slow down around her. Nobody had ever called her that but Sean. “What did you just say?”

Kol eyed her, interested. “Which part?”

Attention caught by the change in her voice, Naðr was slowly making his way back in their direction.

Eyes locked with Kol’s, she frowned. “Sea Siren. Why’d you call me that?”

“Look at you,” Kol said easily as his eyes went to her hair then raked down her front. “You were born to be on the water.” His eyes roamed the boat then went back to her. “Born to scream over the sea louder than the siren’s themselves.”

Megan didn’t know what to make of the moment. It was unusual, different in a way she couldn’t quite explain. Though by no means arousing, there was familiarity…almost as if Sean himself could have said every word that had just come from Kol’s mouth.

Startled, she jumped a little when Naðr came behind her and tucked his front against her back, warm words against her ear. “Who called you Sea Siren?”

Where she’d hesitated to speak of Nathan earlier, she had no such reservations when it came to Sean. “My best friend.”

Kol’s brow’s arched and the corner of his lip pulled down a small fraction almost as if he sensed something in her words. Raknar moved closer as if he sensed something as well. Again, she felt that overwhelming mystical feeling with the three she’d had the first night she’d arrived.

The words
dragon blood
floated through her mind once more.

“What
are
you guys,” she whispered, tilting her head back against Naðr’s hard chest.

Though none touched her but the king, chilled wind heated around her as Kol and Raknar drifted just beyond her reach. 

“
Yours
,” whispered Naðr, his hot lips trailing down the side of her neck.

Megan inhaled sharply as his strong hand latched onto her hip and he nipped at her delicate flesh. It might have been simple intoxication caused by the feel of him, but she swore Kol and Raknar’s eyes glowed as they watched. One’s light blue, one’s nearly black, both were intense, pleased, welcoming.

Yet there remained a definite wall between her, Naðr and them. Something made of the king’s possession as his other hand spanned her opposite hip, measuring her dimensions, before crawling across her stomach. Red-hot delicious shivers spanned out from his spread palm, crawling and licking, they slowly wrapped up over her breasts. Nipples tight and tingling, the heat spanned up her neck and down her arms.

Megan couldn’t stop it if she tried.

Her eyes slid shut.

She almost felt drunk as she waited…anticipated.

While the top half of her felt enflamed and aroused, what happened to her bottom half made her eyelids flutter and mouth fall open. Megan’s jaw trembled as fiery hot flames snaked downward from Naðr’s hand and wrapped between her legs. An indescribable mix of pain and pleasure rolled over her as sharp arousal made her moan and squirm within his tight hold. Visions started to snap on and off behind her closed lids.

Huge wings against a dark, moonlit sky. Large, dominant bodies. Fierceness. Control.

Naðr held Megan more securely as the heat between her thighs seemed to curl up inside her. Eyes still closed, she gripped his hand, dug in her nails and arched as the muscles between her legs started to flutter.

God above
this was too much.

Seconds away from what would likely be a crippling climax, the heat started to dissipate and his soft words slowly reeled her back from where she was heading. His raspy, thick words forced her away from sweet oblivion.

“Not yet, beautiful.”

Startled and confused by the aching, hollow feeling between her legs and the icy wind whipping her face, her eyes shot open. Heart thudding into her throat, she blinked several times. Though Naðr was still at her back, arms wrapped around her, his brothers were gone.

Simply not there.

Confused, she tried to talk. Nothing came out but a strange, gasping sound. Swallowing hard, she licked her dry lips. What the
hell
had just happened? Naðr’s mouth traced a delicate but pressured trail over her jaw as he turned her head. Helpless to do anything else, she opened her mouth to his and swallowed the taste of him as he devoured her.

But before she could drown in the crashing, hungry sea of his touch, he slowly pulled away, his growled words vibrating against her lips. “Not yet.”

Not yet
. As she slowly but surely unraveled from the bizarre spell she’d been cast under she straightened. Not yet? Of course, not yet! Jerking away, Megan frowned as she again surveyed her surroundings. Smoothing down her unruly curls, her eyes narrowed on the rather complacent Viking that’d been at her back. “Your brothers were
just
here and I didn’t hear them leave. How is that possible? Where’d they go?”

A small grin ghosted Naðr’s lips as he offered a loose shrug. “They left a bit ago, but you were…” his lusty gaze raked her body, “busy.”

Megan rolled back her shoulders, shook her head and refused to look away. Though ridiculously tempted to bend over and let him have his way with her, pride kept her halfway human. “Tell me what just happened because it wasn’t normal.”

A deep chuckle rumbled up from his chest, but he gave no answer. Jumping up onto the dockside of the ship, he held down his hand. “Come on, beautiful. I’ll take you sailing on this soon enough but for now,” his lips curled into a rakish grin, “I’d rather get to know the man you loved before me.”

Cocky! But she couldn’t help but appreciate his smooth tactics. So as she took his hand and allowed him to pull her up she murmured, “You really enjoy being you, eh?”

In return, Naðr slapped her backside while simultaneously swinging her down so she could navigate the ladder. Still, as they walked down the dock, Megan wasn’t ready to give up. “Seriously, where did your brothers go? One second they were there, the next, gone.”

Megan refused to over analyze the wings flapping when she closed her eyes, better yet what they symbolized. It also seemed that he wasn’t going to further inquire whether this was the ship she found beneath the sea and she was just fine with that. It was a truly sad topic and hopefully just a weird non-existent twist to the time travel.

Instead of answering her question about his brothers vanishing, he said, “Tell me about
Nathan
.”

The way he said her ex’s name sounded like he’d licked rotten fish beforehand.

She knew he’d tell her nothing more about his brothers right now so she nodded at the cylinder in his hand as they walked. “Tell me about what’s in that.”

“Did he beat you?”

“No.” She again nodded at the cylinder. “Is it something bad?”

“Depends on how you look at it.” His gaze stayed on the shore. “Did he hurt you?”

“Depends on how you look at it.”

Naðr’s eyes cut to hers and narrowed before they once more focused on the village ahead. “Do you want me to kill him?”

“No,” she replied instantly and honestly. “Will what’s in that cylinder help me get home?”

“No.” His voice roughened. “What do you want me to do with him?”

It was less of a question and more of a reluctant curiosity about where she stood emotionally.

“I need answers from him.” Then you can kill him. But she’d never say it nor mean it. Cheating bastards didn’t deserve death. They just didn’t deserve love. At least not as deep as hers had run. “When are you going to let me see what’s in the cylinder?”

“After.”

“After what?”

“After you get your answers.”

Fair enough. “Will I like what I find in that cylinder?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

They’d nearly reached the end of the dock and a crowd was, as always, waiting.

“On you,” he muttered before several men in fell alongside him and she fell back. It seemed to be a thing with these Viking men that they left you on a cliffhanger. But she couldn’t entirely fault Naðr. He was in charge here and that meant spreading his time around. A nod, maybe a ‘see you in a bit, okay?’ wouldn’t hurt. But no. Instead, she was left in a sea of Vikings busy as ever in commerce.

Thank any god listening that Meyla happened to come along. But then would the king’s daughter mysteriously just appear? She doubted it.

“Come.” Meyla led Megan toward the vendors. “Let us shop.”

When she nearly asked why, Meyla shook her head and looked skyward. “You were out on father’s ship with him and my uncles. Trust me, clearing your head with simple things is the least I can do for you.”

Did she understand what had happened then?

“What’s going on, Meyla?”

But like her father, the Viking girl didn’t seem up for giving answers. Instead, she stopped at the first cart and eyed the wares. She pointed at a few items. “Pale gold seashell earrings for the king’s woman.”

His woman
. Here we go again. Megan did her best to shove aside memories of almost getting off in his arms not that long ago.

“I like green,” she remarked.

Meyla eyed her as though she was clueless and took the offering without giving anything in return.

Megan shook her head when Meyla tried to steer her away. “Aren’t you going to pay or trade something?”

“Not necessary. You belong to my father.”

Frustrated, she stopped and shook her head. “I belong to no man.” She eyed the peddler. “He either paid for what you just took or made it himself.
Give
him something for his efforts.”

Astounded, Meyla’s rounded eyes met hers and a harsh frown slashed her lips. “I will
not
.”

Of all people, Raknar came alongside and pressed something into the peddler’s hands. Steering the women into the crowd, his voice was stern as he looked at Meyla. “Back to the holding with you, little flower.”

Megan strongly speculated he held back chastising his niece until listening ears weren’t around and she gave him
some
credit for that. Yes, he spared her dignity but would she really learn a lesson? But then Meyla’s actions with the vendor struck her somehow out of character so she had to wonder.

Raknar stopped them just beyond the outer gates of the fortress and nodded at a swath of fabric hanging from what appeared to be a fairly popular cart. He pointed at an extremely well-made pale tan sleeveless leather tunic. “That one.” Then he looked at a gorgeous deep blue tunic with long sleeves and lots of coverage. “And that one for Meyla.”

Meyla’s frown turned into a wide smile as the vendor handed it over. Grinning, Raknar wrapped his niece under his arm. “If you cover yourself respectably and Valan keeps wearing trousers, your father might just come around.” Then he winked. “And don’t we all want that?”

Naðr’s daughter dished out an even wider smile. “Yes, we do.”

Raknar looked from her to the vendor then back again. “And?”

Meyla dug into her pocket and handed over some coins. The vendor nodded and smiled even before Raknar gave him several more coins, took the material and ushered the women forward.

“Good girl,” he murmured in Meyla’s ear before pushing her along.

Then, as she figured would end up happening, her and Raknar were walking alone. He handed her the tan tunic. “For you.”

Surprised by the kind gesture, she said, “Thank you.” Megan hoped he wouldn’t bring up what had happened on the ship…whatever that was. Best to keep the focus on Meyla. “You’re a good uncle.”

“She’s sacrificed a lot for her father and deserves Odin’s blessing.” His hand touched her lower back as he steered her through the crowd.

Megan thought back on what Naðr had told her before Nathan arrived. “Did she really have a child with Adlin MacLomain…one that she had to leave behind?”

The girl was so young. It was hard to imagine.

Raknar’s jaw clenched, but his words were at odds with apparent frustration. “Meyla is Viking. She did what was asked of her.”

Now that sounded like a boatload of crap.

“So she really had a child and left it,” Megan shook her head, “wherever she left it?”

“
Him
,” Raknar said.

Megan thought about how clear she’d been about gender with Raknar’s son, Heidrek when it came to Guardian.

“Him,” she said. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to sound insensitive.”

Raknar said nothing more about Meyla’s child but at least the strong set to his jaw softened. Yet still, she felt Naðr’s brother close off as he escorted her. Megan had a million questions but couldn’t seem to put them into words as she eyed him.

Something about Naðr’s middle brother was offsetting while simultaneously drawing. Either you were on his good side or on a side that shut you out completely. And he didn’t seem to want to meet you halfway if you ended up somewhere he didn’t quite like.