Ragnar #vikings Novels & Stories

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.

Her heart nearly stopped when she saw the gray leader. Ragnar stood like a predator waiting for the right time to go after his prey. His ebony hair was bound tight, and his black eyes narrowed. As a wolf, he was heavy set, broad-shouldered and thick-necked, the leader by virtue of his size, powerful jaws, and wicked killer canines. But now he stood as a man, his thoughts darker than night, his face menacing as he considered her swimming naked in the lake. Did the boy get away in time, before Ragnar caught sight of him? How could she be so naïve as to think that Ragnar would let her have a human male?

I took his hand and shook it, hoping handshakes were a thing here. Apparently, they weren't, because he gave me a curious look. The man looked over at Fynn, who shrugged. "She's not from here," he explained vaguely to his friend. "Well, it's lovely to meet you, ma'am," the man greeted. "I'm Ragnar, son of the dwarves of Mistril Mountain."

Killer's Instinct, one soul split in two. Brown fur, the one who changes. False name, who is who. Values split, come together. Trapped past, light and dark. Burning desire, vengeance closer. Black flames, for the ark.) "The name Zel means Demon's Claw." Says Girod after noticing Fenrir had finished reading. "I was hoping that the rest would be familiar to you." Fenrir sets the paper down on the table and keeps staring at it. "I don't understand the last line. Everything else I can relate to."

Nine was their sacred number since it connected the nine realms that existed within Yggdrasil. “I choose Gungnir, the great spear of Odin, Angurvadal, the stream of anguish, Gram, who brought death to Fafnir, Freyr’s sword, to fight when I am weak, Dáinsleif, to inflict wounds that never heal, Lævateinn, so that my step will never falter, Skofnung, the supernatural blade, Hǫfuð, the great sword of Heimdall and lastly Mjolnir.” Malachi chose his nine gifts and the rest were returned to the vault. These gifts would be sent to his house in Seward and he knew Jessica would banish them to his study.

Luca glanced out the window, seeing the lightning flashing far on the horizon, closer than it should have been. “Let it come,” Luca muttered, turning back to Raven. Ragnar lifted his eyes to the sky, lightning dancing across his skin, storm clouds swirling above him as the bond anchored him, pulling him south. To her. To home. “Hold on, Raven,” he whispered, lightning cracking around him, the world illuminated in harsh white light. “I’m coming.” With a final scream of thunder, Ragnar stepped into the storm, letting it take him as the wind howled and the rain poured down, washing away the last hesitation..

mum replied "My wolfs name, how did you get ragnarok from Lagertha?" "Lagertha is originally a viking name" mum answered "Ok thanks mum" then ended the mind-link " mum said she had a hunch based on my wolfs name" "Your mums right, i am named after the greatest shield maden, and I have made it my lifes mission to uphold her name with honor"

Both of his hands were tucked inside the pockets of his black long coat, the dark fabric hanging heavily from his frame. Ragnar continued walking until he came to a halt directly in front of Dax, deliberately positioning himself between the two of us. From where I stood, his broad back partially blocked my view. “Dax, what is it that you’re so mad about?” he asked, a laugh lacing his words as he met Dax’s glare. I could hear the amusement in Ragnar’s voice. “Shouldn’t I be angry... now that I’ve found out Villion fucked the human?!”

Rex explained. "To be honest, the 7 packs are the youngest wolves we know. I didn't always run with the pack I run with now. I used to be one of Jo's Rogues. I am half Royal, half Lunari." As soon as Shyfter said he ran with the Rogues, Rex's wolf emerged and melded with his human instinctively.