Ragnar #vikings Novels & Stories

That voice. Low, rich, and cold enough to slice flesh. She turned, slowly, knowing what she’d see before she even saw it. There, standing atop a rock, silhouetted against the moon like the harbinger of death, was him. Ragnar. His obsidian armor glinted faintly, wet from the rain, blood smeared on one of his gloves. His eyes glowed golden, a dangerous, hungry light that pierced right through her. He looked like a beast risen from hell.

IT HAS BEEN a week since the Vikings went on the raid that King Ragnar had told Sophie about and nothing much happened ever since. She heard that they were planning on raiding Paris whom a priest from Wessex had told King Ragnar about. She had never got the chance to meet that famous priest she had been hearing about yet, and she hoped she would once they were back if they ever made it back as she knew how strong the Franks were from the few months she had spent there with them.

he said, “And I’ve missed you too.” To his people, Ragnar was a fierce and powerful Lord who was stern, strict and feared by all. To Astrid, he was a wicked bastard with an alarming libido, one who rarely smiled and one whose heart was made out of granite; he was unfeeling and inhumane and didn’t have a single atom of sympathy in him.

It felt more powerful, and the sensation scared me. I got up and walked the quiet dark halls to my office. “Hati,” I said the name to myself as I sat down and opened the laptop. The different pages available all basically said the same thing. Sköll and Hati were the wolf children of Fenrir, chasing the sun and moon, which they would devour during Ragnarök, the end of days, the end of the world. Why was Hati coming for my son? Didn’t Ragnarök already happen? If I had more information at my disposal, I might have asked the goddess different questions. She summoned me, I had no idea how to go back to where I was and something told me not to try.

"Let us show them that our kindness was a privilege. They have silver, but we have our inner beast. Unleash your wolf on whoever crosses your path" "Yes, Alpha!" They chorused. Ragnar went back into the house to find his wife. He saw her picking an arrow from its case. "What are you doing?" "Fighting with you." She said, without looking at him, and continued to store more arrows in the quiver around her waist. "Nonsense!" Ragnar spat, going to her and removing all of the arrows with her. "Did you forget? Today is the birth date. You would not fight in this condition"

she said. “What sins?” I asked keeping the distance between us. “In the great hall of Odin I was burned three times and his spear missed my heart so I was reborn as this. I have waited many years for my revenge and you will suffer as I did.” She glared at me. “Gullveig,” I said as Blaise said the name in my head. “I have created my own army and they will wreak havoc on Midgard until my lust for blood is satiated,” she said and lifted her arms.

I watched Rhyker standing behind the counter and flipped the scrambled eggs with his pan, he was shirtless and wore a white apron with black joggers. He had one particular tattoo on the back of his neck, it's a drawing of a crown, the crown of Rosla. He whistled while making scrambled eggs. "Are you awake Hemilia? I'm sorry I wasn't in our bed, I wanted to make breakfast for you." He said not looking at me, I gawked at his strong and broad back that is able to give comforting hugs from him. "What's the special occasion?" I chuckled and walked toward him, he turned around and smiled.

Third Person POV: India a country where dreams comes true, a country which is defined by cultural diversity, which is renowned for its cuisine, technology, festivals, prestige and colorful traditions however from past few years India was slowly disappearing under darkness, it was suffering from growing crimes rates and increase in underworld activities, there was a havoc created by many gangsters all over country , many illegal’s activities and crime which were slowly draining it beauty and value but most dangerous part of it was that every gangster from every corner of India was ruled by just one single person and he was demon himself he was “RAVAN”.

A true VIKINGS should be able to perceive his own blood even from it's silhouettes… This trait has been passed down From the Ancestral Wolves… Embedded in the leader of the VIKINGS and it's descendants Even the Breeze cackled at those who called the legitimate son of the Vikings a “BASTARD “ The storm had only begun.

The trauma from my childhood had forever scarred a part of me, and I know I will never be a fit father. “I knew you would ask that!” Vivienne snapped, but her voice wasn’t matching her bravado. Her shoulders were trembling so badly her earrings shook. She had every reason to be scared. Ragnar was known as a slut. Like, actually known. People joked about him being the Alpha of Whores, but no one ever dared say it anywhere near him. For all the years he’d spent with his legs open for half the damn region, the fact that he hadn’t gotten a woman pregnant still confused everyone, including me.