Vikings Fanfiction Novels & Stories

Martin looks at his finger and rubs on the spot where the coin has left a mark. “Yeah, not many teenagers are willing to travel this far for a School assignment, right ?” Finn laughs. “But the truth is that there are several thousand pages about how things were back in the time of the vikings. It is sagas that have been passed down by our brothers. Back then shapeshifting was a part of the seiðr. Even the eddaes are filled with stories of berserkers''. “I am not following at all”. Martin shakes his head. “Sorry but my education is lacking. We were too busy running from crazy witches”.

While I was waiting, I looked back through the older part of the book. Some of the spells ranged from the tenth and twelfth centuries; some even earlier. I wondered if any of my ancestors had known King Arthur or Joan of Arc, but it was doubtful. My ancestors came from the Vikings. Interesting. Vikings were known for their strength and ruthlessness, among other things. I smirked, sure that held true for the Arctic Wolf-Witches of my people, too, who had settled in Alaska and the northern regions of North American by way of Iceland and Greenland. I suddenly wondered if some of my people had survived.

That was the day she became a dark witch. Xena was a seer, a white witch. Xena had flawless fair skin and red fiery hair. Her eyes, however, were silver, showing she had gifts. She came from Norway and so the Vikings would seek her guidance, even though she was a child of only 13 years old. The Vikings favoured good fortune in battle, but Xena was never wrong with her omens and gifts. I came across Xena when she was a child in the forest that surrounded her village in Norway. I was in my wolf’s form at the time. She was healing a wounded stag. She wasn’t frightened at the fact that the stag could have gorged her, or that I was watching her. All she said to me was. “I’ve been waiting for you,

Vikron The pack's border reeked of blood. “Skyla, go—now!” Alpha Vikron barked through the mindlink as he swung another punch at a lycan forcing its way through the border. Forcing his fists into its head until it's skull cracked, crimson liquid splattering on his face He couldn’t tell which pack these blood-thirsty morons belonged to, but one thing was certain—they came prepared. Not for battle, but for slaughter. Too many of them.

Freya had sent more Viking warriors after us to kill us off, so that we could not live to help anymore. I told Kaitlyn and Ali about a Viking warrior that attacked us in the Hospital with a monster that words alone could not describe, however, the strength of this Viking warrior was incredible so much that Liss and I struggled to overpower him, until Sam stepped in and offered to be a diversion so I could escape to reach her.

“…will be the least of what you ever get to experience.” Giving me one final look of tired irritation and deep annoyance, he shook his head, stepped out into the corridor, and firmly shut the door behind him. The Vikings and the Vokens. They were the ones who had orchestrated this. They had broken my bones and left me for dead. A dark anger began to ride high within my chest, burning hotter than the physical pain. Was there truly no one left in this city who held a vicious vendetta against those two families? Surely, there had to be someone powerful—someone I could partner with to completely dismantle their egoistic, arrogant empires once and for all!

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.

“Aria is alive.” My muscles locked. My heartbeat skipped, but I didn't believe him. “Liar.” I roared furiously, then I charged again. This time, I was faster. Viktor dodged, but I clipped his shoulder, and blood splattered the floor. He hissed softly, stepping back. “Listen to me!” I didn’t. I couldn’t. He had no right to say her name. Fenrir didn’t want to hear words. He wanted vengeance.

He smirked. I heard Faeries had all kinds of power, and one was to read people's minds and control them. It was one of the reasons why we were told to hate the Vikanders. They were rumored to control other creatures and make them do things for them. It was wrong and invasive, but they didn't care. "Then you must already know that I hate you! I don't care if you are my mate. You should go to hell because that's where you belong," I cried.

How velvety the mane had felt under my hands, and how smitten I was by that tongue, that tongue – gods ban this lust inside me, I cursed inwardly, and dug my nails into my palms until black blood welled up in moon shaped indentations from the blunt keratin. "I do not mind sharing my Bride with you – I shall make you my second Bride, dear Valkyrie. A daughter of Freida is always welcome in Utgardr, in the lands of the Northern Holds," Jarngrimr smirked. "I would make you my paladin supreme."