Norse Dreads Novels & Stories

So, she already knows about Fenris's unusual dreaming habit. "Yes. I actually had a nightmare in which I saw my mom and there was another woman with black hair, black eyes but had an evil edge to her personality. I dreamed that my mother was pregnant. We were in a field of white flowers all around. It's hazy but I remember this much very clearly," he speaks, pulling at his hair and I pull that hand holding it in both of mine, giving it a squeeze. His other arm which is on my shoulder pulls me closer if possible and kisses my head. He's still trying to comfort me even when it is clear that at this moment, he's the who's distressed. I lean into him hoping to calm him as much as possible. Elder

It was like this, in that they are a race of the Norse pantheon of Nivadellir, being that it was one of the planets that came to their end, in which eons ago the great serpent of Ragnarok brought the end to the cosmos, towards several planets in its ancient adventure, between galactic exploration and galactic expansion. By the Norse descent of the gods, they were red-haired, because they were also descendants of German ancestors and ancient gods of the Germanic people in that distant galaxy, between when mixing with the peoples of the Mongols and ages coming from other cosmoses, towards various planets in their adventures of the great migration of the magical kingdom in the great exploration

- I told him. He nodded and pulled several books out from one of the stacks and set them in front of me. I opened the top book and ran my fingers over the runes in the title. It was beautifully written as if each word was drawn with love and attention to detail. Now that I looked at it, it reminded me of a combination of Norse and Old English. Nerrian pulled his chair closer and pointed to the first word, speaking it in my mind than out loud in Draygonian. With his help, I repeated the word over and over again until I perfected it.

She just didn’t know if she could get her head wrapped around what it would mean if she was wrong, and what Max said was right. If by chance Fenrir was the real deal, he should be a fucking giant wolf. She didn’t mean a two hundred pound cujo. She meant like crush your house under foot kind of giant. She was pretty sure she didn’t see any giants wandering around nowadays. But according to Norse legend there were realms, nine of them in fact and one of them was where giants were from. To top it off Fenrir had two siblings, one of them was named Hel. So what the fuck? Who were these people and why did she feel like she was falling down a rabbit hole?

Then a smile creeps across his face, one of those devastating, dimpled smiles that could ruin a woman’s life. “You’re Charlotte. Pretty sure you knew that.” Smug bastard. “You know exactly what I mean, Damon,” I snap at him. The smile fades slowly and darkly. He leans back, arms folding over his broad chest like a wall. “You’re Druiss.” A shiver trickles down my spine. That name again. “Okay… and what’s a Druiss?” “A Druiss is a Dreil.” I groan. “And what’s a Dreil?”

My comrade in arms, as it were. Unlike me, he had a team. They were called the Helvegr and, aside from the Alpha, they all had wolf names from Norse mythology. Most of their crimes were robberies and camp breaks. They’d saved countless supernaturals in the last five years. I’d followed their work ever since my mother died. My very first crush was on Fenrir. Now he was right in front of me and he wanted me. I wanted him, too. He had to be my sealing partner. It would be almost as good as if I had a boyfriend.

After her mother’s death, her father said that she didn’t need a maid, and that was that. The hair was divided into three sections and then braided once again. Ayla saw the maids’ hair; they also kept it braided. From what she could observe on the journey, even the men kept their hair in different types of braids. Some even dyed the braid or used oil and herbs. Maybe Nordmarians had a thing for braids and hair. Myrthanians had something for silks. Not that she had silk clothes before. Her mother did, though. She could still remember how her mother’s dresses felt under her fingers. She doubted she would ever touch something as soft as those dresses again. Once the hair was done, light makeup

She later made me wash off my face and asked me to pick a warrior garb with a cloak from my wardrobe. After wearing a leather jacket over matching fitted pants. I picked a hooded cloak that I had worn when Dane was officially celebrated as the alpha of the Northlanders. It was a Tyrian purple color with the emblem of the Northlanders embroidered with white and black thread on the spot where the breast pocket ought to be. The buttons that lined the front flap from the throat to the hem were pure gold and it all clung to my body like a second skin.

"That gives us ten." "Shit," Sam cursed hatefully. "This isn't going to be a pretty ending then." "Why?" Kait asked her. "These are a unique set of zombies." Sam explained, like she had met a few. "And before you ask, yes I have." She uncoiled herself from me and pulled closer to Kait. Almost like she was scared. "They're Draug. Ancient zombies from Old Norse that have unparalleled strength and can grow on a whim." "You know this how?" Kait asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Idris is quiet. His father is an African man married to an Icelandic woman. He spent too long reading about Norse mythology and somehow, that knowledge translated to him. A few days ago, he woke to have bright blue eyes, the color of ice, and the power to freeze everything he touches. That one is quite scary, especially considering the fact that he can also conjure ice. So, he's basically like a frost giant then?" Damon smiled. "In a way, yes."