Norse Dreads Novels & Stories

Chapter 1: The Captive’s Claim The dragon-headed longship crashed through the gray, churning waves like a beast unleashed by the gods themselves, its oars cutting rhythmically into the sea as it approached the misty shores of my conquered homeland. I stood bound at the center of the deck, thick ropes biting into my wrists, my simple woolen dress soaked through with sea spray and clinging shamelessly to every generous curve of my body. At twenty-four winters, I was Freya Aldottir, daughter of a fallen jarl whose village had burned under the axes of these very raiders. My body, always both blessing and burden, now drew the hungry stares of the crew—heavy, full breasts straining against the dam

Her Granny found it interesting, she called it a blessing because it had helped the family in so many ways. Juana herself didn't think it was a blessing, she found it really strange and scary. She'd rather not know the future than know and not be able to stop it from happening, the bad parts that is. She remembered having a dream when she was seven. It was a very strange one. She saw nothing, literally nothing. She was walking on nothing and staring at a ball of nothing. There was no air, no trees, no buildings. Everything was blank. She herself felt invisible. She screamed right out of sleep that morning. And it was the morning of her seventh birthday. When Baron and Dawn asked her about it

In Norway, their back is not hollow, but they do have a tail (a cow's tail according to Norwegian belief, while for Swedes they have a cow's tail or a fox's tail) which is the only thing that distinguishes them from normal girls. Huldra lures men into the forest to be invited to have sex. They will give recompense for men who have satisfied their lust and kill men who are not willing. But Huldra in Norway is not like that. They may kidnap someone, but are reluctant to kill them. They sometimes kidnap human babies and place them among their young called the Huldrebarn. The male Huldra is called Huldu, or “Huldrekall” (as it is called in Norwegian).

She even asked Alissa to braid her hair exactly like Elsa but Alissa just did a Dutch braid, each layer was spread out to make her braid look big. Rather than Elsa, she ended up looking like Daenerys Targaryen from Games of Thrones with her long blonde hair or more like Lagertha in Vikings. She giggle to herself. Telling Hope about that didn’t matter because she wouldn’t understand any of that character. The bottom line now is that, Hope’s thick long hair that curls at the end was super gorgeous.

The familiar voice of the weapons master spoke, startling Nikolai, who jumped out of my arms and spun around. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I held that breath for a moment before releasing it, opening my eyes, and turning to face Norton. He looked exactly the way I remembered. Long hair, the same color as mine, but full of thick braids, the typical Viking style that almost everyone in the Kingdom wears. His eyes held that familiar hardness that I always saw in them, even when he had a ghost of a smile on his face. “Norton… It's good to see you,” I said, stepping closer and hoping he doesn't hate me for leaving the way that I did.

Already gathered in the room are Soren, Dovydas, and Norveig, the horde's war chief. Norveig is tall and slender, adorned with long pale blue hair that touches her mid-back. Her skin is pale like the moon, smooth and clear. Her face is shaped like a diamond with defined cheekbones. Her eyes are the smoldering color of burning coal. Norveig is dressed in similar black leather garments as me. As Flavius and I march into the room, all eyes turn towards us, and those gathered greet us with a nod. We take a seat at the round stone table in the middle of the room. Once we are seated, everyone else follows.

Rebecca shakes her head timidly and swallows hard. "No? Then let me enlighten you," he practically purrs, rubbing his hands with an eagerness to put her in her place. "Loa means black magic. Sindre, and I have spread the black dust over Asgard to get these savage Vikings to work for us." His tongue traced over his chipped and yellow teeth. Sindre claps his hands mockingly at the imagery of the defeated Vikings.

I snorted, going into my closet to change. I shimmied into panties, pants, and a white tank top. Grabbing a flannel, I took it with me into the bathroom. Once inside, I tried to close the door, but Saint pushed his way into my space. He immediately started stripping, giving me a view of where his name, Kingsley, was tattooed over his shoulders, with skulls and black ink dominating his skin. Ignoring him, I grabbed the brush and started two braids on either side of my head, then a larger one on the top. It was a Viking style worn by the Fenrir wolves and one I'd just begun using. It was an easy style to maintain since we spent most of our time doing chores, preparing to be stuck on top of the

The mourning dove fled to the peal of an elfin horn: "What was that call, just now? And that insurmountable wind like lindworm breath?" I murmured to myself, shuddering as I looked out the window: In rode a terrible train of huldre, Jotun, alfar and dokkalfar, dwarves, nixie, mara and trolls of the Dark Court from the depths of the woods. The Cunningfolk's allies in the Northern Holds of Utgardr, and Arcadia's sworn enemies.

Not a fan of that one. I followed Echo to the packed bar and he moved me in front of him, his chest flush to my back as he braced his hands on the bar top, nodding to a man behind the bar who made his way over. He smelled of wolf, just not pack. He had long blonde hair, and a long beard to match it. Both braided and secured with metal runic beads. He was about 6 foot even, broad across the shoulders and carried himself like he was ready to throw down any second. With his hair braided back on the sides of his head, his beard braided and his bright blue eyes that reminded me of winter skies, he was giving me Viking vibes. He smiled at us and started to pour two pints. “Busy tonight Norik, any