and self pity never healed a single thing. Don't run away again, face me with the courage of a harii.”
“ Fine,” I grumble, looking back into my almost depleted refreshment.
“ My heart's a place worth living in. It's a better place than the other chambers you cowered inside,” he murmurs seductively.
It snaps my focus back on his enigmatic face, with my chest warming at his magnificent essence again. “What?”
“Guy's heart didn't have the chambers ours do. It wasn't big enough to love you the way you warrant. You haven't known love until you've felt it in the safety of an entire society all wanting you to be happy, who would die to protect you, who keep a safe haven where no one can demand your time, your tears, or capture you into servitude for a measly wage. Here you are free, and those who love you will keep you free,” he says.
“ I don't really understand. One second I think you're being all romantic and the next you generalize and dilute it. It's confusing.”
“ How did the giants happen to come into being?”
“ Don't change the fucking subject!”
Ignoring my outburst he continues in his calm bone bending baritone, “When two enormous forces meet, that is the birth of Ymir. You and me, Emma. You were unresisting when I brought you home but the longer you are here and the more courage you drink and eat, the deep well of your soul is birthing before my eyes. You challenge me, argue, shout, you have come back to life in a matter of hours. And I admit it, yes, I loathed that weasel you bedded because in the book of life it is writ you are my own Skaði. This attraction is abnormal because we are not human, we are mighties. But even a god must woo and seduce his goddess if he expects to trust her to have his back in a fight.”
“ The book of life?” I ask.
Are you seducing me? You have a weird way of doing it then.
“Your blood went into the book of life. It was Odin's. It cannot lie, and in it we are destined.” He blinks, as if catching himself, pushing his chair away and standing to tower over me, “Come elskling, let's go sit at the fire.”
He holds his arm out for me to step inside his hold and I am drawn against my will again, forced out of my chair and into the fabulous possessiveness of a man clearly on a mission.
“What is elskling?”
“ Darling, it means darling, or more precisely, little love . Next to me you are a little love,” he says affectionately, walking me away from his bonding meal to the fireplace I saw before.
I could get lost here. I am perhaps already lost here. The mystery shadow warrior has power I doubt I can resist for long.
And it's freaking awesome.
Chapter 9
Emma:
He forces me to flop with him onto the caramel-leather couch in front of the hearth, stretching out his long legs and leaving his arm around my shoulders.
Jeez, for a lanky dude that shirt sure is hiding some hard muscle, it's like trying to rest against a headstone.
Apprehension clenches my insides at the thought of this turning into the next phase of seducing Emma. Hell, we have nothing but the drowsy glow of embers and the sporadic lick of blue flame along the ridge of the wood to illuminate the room. This is make out territory.
“Tell me another story,” I beg, if only to postpone the inevitable.
Unlatching his arm he twists to face me, lifting his leg to sit comfortably with his knee touching my thigh, “You like stories?”
Giving a wry grin, I mumble, “I didn't get enough as a child, what can I say?”
Holding my hand, turning it over to vacantly examine the mark, he says so softly that it comes out as a lover's ode, “We sing stories. We seldom tell them the way you'd expect. We may be giants but skald hearts beat our blood.”
Oh my god, could this get any more romantic? If he sings to me I think I'm going to fall so hard for him I'll have a dented face.
He glances at me, releasing my hand and standing, moving into the darkness, coming back a
“ Fine,” I grumble, looking back into my almost depleted refreshment.
“ My heart's a place worth living in. It's a better place than the other chambers you cowered inside,” he murmurs seductively.
It snaps my focus back on his enigmatic face, with my chest warming at his magnificent essence again. “What?”
“Guy's heart didn't have the chambers ours do. It wasn't big enough to love you the way you warrant. You haven't known love until you've felt it in the safety of an entire society all wanting you to be happy, who would die to protect you, who keep a safe haven where no one can demand your time, your tears, or capture you into servitude for a measly wage. Here you are free, and those who love you will keep you free,” he says.
“ I don't really understand. One second I think you're being all romantic and the next you generalize and dilute it. It's confusing.”
“ How did the giants happen to come into being?”
“ Don't change the fucking subject!”
Ignoring my outburst he continues in his calm bone bending baritone, “When two enormous forces meet, that is the birth of Ymir. You and me, Emma. You were unresisting when I brought you home but the longer you are here and the more courage you drink and eat, the deep well of your soul is birthing before my eyes. You challenge me, argue, shout, you have come back to life in a matter of hours. And I admit it, yes, I loathed that weasel you bedded because in the book of life it is writ you are my own Skaði. This attraction is abnormal because we are not human, we are mighties. But even a god must woo and seduce his goddess if he expects to trust her to have his back in a fight.”
“ The book of life?” I ask.
Are you seducing me? You have a weird way of doing it then.
“Your blood went into the book of life. It was Odin's. It cannot lie, and in it we are destined.” He blinks, as if catching himself, pushing his chair away and standing to tower over me, “Come elskling, let's go sit at the fire.”
He holds his arm out for me to step inside his hold and I am drawn against my will again, forced out of my chair and into the fabulous possessiveness of a man clearly on a mission.
“What is elskling?”
“ Darling, it means darling, or more precisely, little love . Next to me you are a little love,” he says affectionately, walking me away from his bonding meal to the fireplace I saw before.
I could get lost here. I am perhaps already lost here. The mystery shadow warrior has power I doubt I can resist for long.
And it's freaking awesome.
Chapter 9
Emma:
He forces me to flop with him onto the caramel-leather couch in front of the hearth, stretching out his long legs and leaving his arm around my shoulders.
Jeez, for a lanky dude that shirt sure is hiding some hard muscle, it's like trying to rest against a headstone.
Apprehension clenches my insides at the thought of this turning into the next phase of seducing Emma. Hell, we have nothing but the drowsy glow of embers and the sporadic lick of blue flame along the ridge of the wood to illuminate the room. This is make out territory.
“Tell me another story,” I beg, if only to postpone the inevitable.
Unlatching his arm he twists to face me, lifting his leg to sit comfortably with his knee touching my thigh, “You like stories?”
Giving a wry grin, I mumble, “I didn't get enough as a child, what can I say?”
Holding my hand, turning it over to vacantly examine the mark, he says so softly that it comes out as a lover's ode, “We sing stories. We seldom tell them the way you'd expect. We may be giants but skald hearts beat our blood.”
Oh my god, could this get any more romantic? If he sings to me I think I'm going to fall so hard for him I'll have a dented face.
He glances at me, releasing my hand and standing, moving into the darkness, coming back a
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