Vikings Stories Novels & Stories

Note: Events in this story are fictional and do not reflect actual Viking history. (900 AD – Before the Separation of Kingdoms) In the year 900 AD, before the Norse kingdoms split apart, there was one kingdom feared above all, Vikron. Its warriors were brutal. Their culture, violent. Yet, they were united. And at the center of that unity stood one man King Ragnor, named after the god of thunder himself. Ragnor led with blood and fire. His people raided distant lands, conquering village after village.

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.

She was gentle and kind, not the bloodthirsty, baby-eating beasts that were described therein. He knew some of it had to be true. Certain events that lined up neatly with actual historical happenings, such as their origins dating back to around the same period as when the Vikings were rumored to first trade here. His scholarly mind was fascinated at how the shifters fit into the tapestry of history.

his enemy. It's very likely that Grim Skull felt the same way about him. With a grown-up smile, Ragnar realized he had to be careful in the wilderness. If you're not careful, you can fall off one of the cliff paths or get caught in the path of an avalanche. But at that moment he was in charge. Sergeant Hakon Ragnar decided he was best suited to command the claws. So far I have had no problems with Kjel or Henk. Only Sven and Stribjörn grunted. Ragna stopped walking and looked up at the sky. The red sun began to set in the west. The sky on the far horizon was blood red, and the red light passing through the clouds made the mountain look strangely menacing. Ragnar seemed to be a haven for tro

A shiver shoots up my spine because I know what’s coming next. “Start from the beginning, unless you want to end up like Viktor,” Kai says, and I see Ilya swallow hard. “Please, Kai, I didn't want any part of what Vanya did! You have to believe me! I wanted to come to you, but Viktor’s life was threatened. In the end, my siblings killed him anyway! Please, you have to believe me!” Ilya cries out, but then my brother plunges a silver dagger into his side and he screams out in pain.

The way Dedrick seemed so soft now, his hand rubbing small circles in her back and his eyes full of concern. "A long, long time ago, when heathens and Vikings began to raid, then to migrate to new lands, they would build what was called and Apex. This was a place of great spiritual importance, and there the keepers of tales and legends built homes and halls alongside gifted individuals, most called Volvas, some called Seers, though there were many names." He couldn't get over the way her eyes seemed to sparkle as she spoke, everyone listening in and even shifting forward some.

I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing myself to keep quiet this time. "That charm faded as she grew though. Over the years many people have feared her, as your friends Ashford and Castile do. Even Vikings have cowered when she's poised for attack." I knew what he was doing. He was trying to lure me in with stories about his past. And worse—it was working. "So that was true, huh? You've fought alongside Vikings?" "A little," he brushed some strands of hair back towards his low ponytail. "Mostly inhabited alongside them. In Kievan Rus. Novgorod was one of the first places to integrate clans with our people. Some days we lived peacefully together, other days we fought alongside one another."

At his unexpectedly detailed explanation, Silje said to him, “You surprise me, Kail. I wouldn’t have expected you to know things like that.” He chuckled and replied, “Most people think Vikings are cruel predators with no culture, but that is not true. I read a book which stated that Vikings used to have their own legal courts. Isn’t it funny to know that the Vikings actually used a democratic concept? Of course, I don’t think you would like the Vikings because I am very much like them, right? Silje, do you still think the Vikings were just vicious pirates?” When Kail gave her an odd smile, Silje remembered that he took a literature class.

My cries echoed off the wooden beams, mixing with the crackle of the fire and the low, approving growls of my conquerors. Hours later, as the fire burned low and cast a soft, intimate glow, they held me nestled between their powerful bodies on the furs. Ragnar’s broad chest served as my pillow, Thorsten’s arm draped possessively over my waist, and Bjorn’s fingers traced lazy patterns along my spine. In these quieter moments, stories flowed freely. They spoke of legendary raids, the favor of the gods, and the loneliness of leadership in their harsh northern world. I shared tales of my Saxon home, the strength of the women who defended it, and the grief of losing my father in battle.

Intro: The Viking Bride tells the story of Brynja, a fiercely independent woman, and Ulfrik, a brutal yet enigmatic Viking chieftain. After her village is raided, Brynja is taken as Ulfrik's captive and declared his bride, her life irrevocably changed by the warlord's claim.