Ragnar #vikings Novels & Stories

Soreness filled me and there was no energy left for tears. There was a tiny hole underneath the cloak blindfolding me. It breezed up due to continuous oscillation. The first thing my eyes narrowly saw was a tattoo of an anchor on the top right side of his chest. It was a little different. The arm and fluke were just like flaming swords and the shank was painted like a white-bearded old man with his mustache flagging on both edges. There was a last pound and I felt his spill inside of me. I became dizzy and my vagina became even sorer when he was done.

Hymir’s raven and crown emblem were from their deity, Fiachra. According to Hymirian folklore, Fiachra is a young warrior cloaked in black flexible armor that is always seen accompanied by her ravens, it is said that Fiachra with the help of her friend ravens won countless battles and brought glory to Ancient Hymir. The King of Hymir at that time fell in love with the woman in black flexible armor and courted her, however, Fiachra’s love for her country was stronger and when a final war broke out Fiachra chose to go in the frontlines and fight with all her might. But it was also a fateful battle where Fiachra sacrificed her life by closing the gates of the kingdom, tens of thousands of raven

Well, putting away all of that aside, Natasha had hit the shower and put on a fresh pair of blue jeans with a pink top and a white sweater before getting into white sneakers. She let her blond hair rest above her shoulders as she grabbed a bag and put something in a sort of cage right next to her closet. "Come on out, V," she started after setting down what she had put at the base of the cage. A moment later, something slithered out from a dark corner of the cage. A snake;a green viper to be exact. Taika had given her the snake when she and her mother had gone on a visit to Hawaii, where she had learnt was her birth place.

I said it before, he was the male version of Medusa. I swiveled on the balls of my feet, instantly meeting Gunnar's green-brown eyes. They were more brown with blotches of green swirling through the irises this morning and they were hooded with days worth of exhaustion. Thick stubble coated his jaw, framing the impeccable slice of it. His chocolate brown locks were snarled in every direction; tufts sticking out and begging for me to run my fingers through. I fisted my hands, quickly shaking the thought out of my head.

Andrew replied flatly, "You talk too much, you monster! I think you should follow Fenrir and meet your end!" Ragnar suddenly flew into a rage, opening his mouth to let out a beast-like roar. Endless savage light shot from his amber eyes. He growled, "I will tear you apart, you lowly insect!" He shot forward, viciously clawing at Andrew. Andrew blocked with his great sword, only to feel primordial power surging toward him. His heart jolted. Indeed, Ragnar was a progenitor of werewolves. The force of this single strike far exceeded anything Othniel, Kaelen, and other powerhouses could compare to.

Ember turned to the silver wolf, keeping her posture tense. ‘Who are you? And why did you attack us?’ she asked flatly, her wolf was still itching to sink her fangs into him. He didn’t respond at first, his gaze flickering between them and Kaya. Raphael sneered in warning, his fur bristling. ‘My name is Ragnar,’ he finally said. Even through the link, his voice was deep and husky. ‘How did you leave Thorne’s territory unscathed? And why do you have his scent all over you?’

But the burden of leadership was heavy, and the dangers they faced were growing by the day. “We have allies,” Theo said, breaking the silence. “But we also have enemies, and we need to be prepared for both. Let’s continue with the other packs outside Rysterbia.” He pointed to a region in Southeast Asia. “The Namo Ganga pack, led by Alpha Bhairava. They’re one of the oldest and most respected packs, known for their honour and martial prowess. Bhairava is a warrior, but he’s also a man of great wisdom. Earning their respect will be crucial.”

GEMMA I furrowed my brows. Right now, it was from one problem to the other. We still needed time to recover from the fight with the Obsidian Wolves and now, this? Who the hell was even Ragnarok? That was the first important question. George left the office, leaving me and Nate alone. "Who exactly is this Ragnarok? And why does he have such a weird name?" I asked. He sighed. "Ragnarok is a barbarian. For centuries, after his pack broke out from our kingdom, they have lived on the outskirts, having no alliances with anyone. They're strong enough on their own." He explained.

It is merely salt spray carried by the coastal wind. "You possess a pure soul, Stevens," he says after a heavy pause, his voice rough and gravelly. "But your wolf has terrible luck. Born straight into the Nielsen Moonfang Pack, only to be bound to a cold villain like me." My chest squeezes tight at his bitter words. I shake my head slowly, locking my amber eyes with his grey ones. "I think fierce villains are the most romantic creatures in the world." Magnus lets out a sharp, cynical scoff, though it carries no real cruelty. "Romantic? What does an innocent wolf find romantic about a monster?"

"Fenrir. A son of the god, Loki. It's a very powerful name. A very powerful wolf." Liv met the woman's intense gaze. Her voice wrapped around Liv like a warm blanket. A feeling of profound comfort came over her and she let out a little sigh. "I knew it was Norse. I've been told my father's people were from Denmark…or what is Denmark now," she said. Suddenly, she just wanted to curl up and take a nap, preferably in the giant Viking's generous lap. What? She shook herself. What was going on with her today. She needed to get out of here and back to the woods. All the concrete was obviously making her loopy.