Hiccup X Astrid Novels & Stories

’ He hissed in my mind and then said, ‘well, I’ve noticed that Astrid has been a little fidgety around you and when she’s not around you, she falls silent as if she’s thinking about something. ‘Exactly!’ I said and then glanced at where Astrid was lying. She was curled up under her blanket, sleeping soundly. It had taken a while before she fell asleep because she’d been tossing and turning in her mat. ‘If you call her name, she gets startled as if her mind had wandered far off. What do you think is the problem, Kaiza?’ ‘If you were in her shoes, would you be having a great time when some void creatures were after your life? I think her reaction is not far-fetched, Magnus. You need to give he

My stomach turned and a strangled gasp escaped my lips before I could stop it. Killian's head snapped toward me at the sound and that's when he pulled away from her. Slowly. Then he looked at me with an expression of pure irritation. Annoyance. Like he was mad that I was disrupting his fun. Astrid, who was struggling to pull down her dress, simply smirked. “Oh, look,” she purred, sitting up lazily on the mahogany desk. “The dutiful little housewife has arrived.” My breath came in ragged gasps and the room spun around me.

he assured her. “Can you pass me the bowl over there?” Astrid ordered. She had a grin on her face which was as fake as could be. I was surprised Elijah didn't see how fake she is. I took the bowl of salad and shrimp; I served a little on her table and returned to my seat. By this time, my appetite was spoiled. “Ah! Is this shrimp? I am allergic to shrimp, Elijah!” Astrid screamed. The scene she caused puzzled me; she was panting and gagging. I stood there not knowing what to do, as she kept rejecting my help.

"What happened? Where is she?" Astrid bursts into the infirmary with Tamara, confused as hell, running behind her. "Forgive me, Lady Astrid! Her stomach started bleeding, suddenly. It may have been more than an indigestion, I believe the stress made a hole inside her guts. She bled out the poor girl." "She was fine a moment ago and now you're telling me that she bled to death?" Astrid shouts, but the medic is already not paying attention to her anymore as she bows to somebody that just came into the room. Astrid turns around, surprised to see Lord Connrad.

“I guess he’s waiting for the gala. But he put Zara to sleep with the Oak Ridden Root. Oh, and he has a daughter. Lucia. Turns out, Lucia and Storm are mates.” “No way!” Astrid said. I giggled. For a moment, it felt like we were just old friends gossiping. It was nice. I filled her in on some of the weird stuff that had happened – Adrian breastfeeding, Storm’s crazy outfits, our plan with the black rocks. We chatted easily, almost as though Astrid wasn’t in a cage dressed like a ballerina and there wasn’t a war back at home with our packs. But then a voice interrupted us.

Anton asks, still holding me tight. “I don’t know. Her mommy looks tired, and I’m scared. Please come inside with me?” Anton looks up at Mommy before standing up, taking my hand and walking into Astrids room. She’s sitting on the bed with her stuffed dog and smiling. She doesn’t look sick; except she has no hair because the medicine she needs made it all fall out. Sometimes she wears wigs, but not today. “Freya!” Astrid says excitedly. “Come sit. I’m so happy you could visit.”

Before Astrid could respond, the line went dead with a harsh click. Astrid stared at the screen. Her hand trembled. She didn't expect him to be this cruel and yet here she was. A harsh laugh escaped her lips. A laugh she couldn't stop. Hahaha, Hahaha, Hahaha!’ "He hung up on me. He actually hung up on me." Astrid's laughter bubbled up, bitter and jagged, as tears welled in the corners of her eyes. She couldn’t stop. The sound of it—empty and hollow—filled the room, like a cruel joke.

Quietly, I slip off my jacket and sit beside her, my eyes tracing the beautiful curve of her face. She looks so peaceful, so unlike the fiery, stubborn woman who’s been driving me crazy. I lean in and press a soft kiss to her cheek. She feels warm –too warm, burning even. I frown, brushing my hand against her forehead. She’s burning up. My heart stumbles in my chest, panic seeping in. “Astrid?” I whisper, hoping she’ll stir, but she doesn’t. Fuck!

“Fuck… off…” Her mouth twitched. “Still mouthy,” she said. “Some things never change.” My fingers dug into her arm. I tried to pry her off. Nothing. She pushed closer, my back flattening harder against the wall. “I was living a peaceful life,” Astrid continued, voice smooth, conversational, like we were discussing the weather. “With my husband. And then you came back. With your madness. Your obsession. Your plague.” Plague. I choked out a sound that might have been a laugh or a curse.