The Lost One: A Dark Viking-Inspired Romeo & Juliet Retelling

Originally published in the Love, Not War: A Charity Romance Anthology Benefiting Ukraine (2022)

By Summer O’Toole 

The Lost One is a dark historical romance that includes graphic violence—including domestic violence—sex, and gore. Please read at your own discretion.

While this is a Viking-inspired retelling of Romeo and Juliet, it is not meant to accurately depict or represent any real cultures, peoples, or their beliefs. Clan names and histories are fictional. And unlike the original Romeo and Juliet, this couple gets their happy ending.

Chapter 1

I didn't know what I was seeing. At first, I thought a deer may have been shot but escaped with the hunter’s arrow in its side. The fallen leaves were drenched in blood and something heavy had been dragged through the muddy ground. Not footsteps, drag marks. It was uneven and not on a straight line, so it wasn’t a sled either.

So naturally I followed the blood-streaked path—even though it was dangerously close to the border of Svensung clan lands. My first memories weren't of my mother rocking me and singing me to sleep by a fire. They weren't drawing in the dirt with sticks and rocks. No, they were my mother hammering the importance, the life-or-death importance, of never crossing that border.

Our truce was a fragile one, she said, and one misstep out of line—literally—could bring our whole world crashing down.

But I had to know what had made the tracks. That was another thing my mother always said that my curiosity was a gift and a curse, and I'd have to learn which by the decisions I made.

Even among the rusty colored leaves, the abundance of crimson stood out like a beacon in the night. I followed it thinking at worst it would lead to nothing, whatever made it too far into Svensung lands for me to see. At best it would be a wounded deer that could provide many moons of meat if it was still fresh enough the maggots hadn't taken root.

The further I followed the path, the clearer it became: raspy, struggling breaths.

And even closer they became badly distinguishable chants, like a prayer to the gods. As soon as my mind processed what I was hearing was human, I took to running.

The first thing I noticed was the blood, it seeped from his chest and turned his shirt dark red, his fur coat was pulled open to reveal the knife handle protruding from his flesh. His hands shook where he held the base of the knife, trying and failing to stop the blood.

The next thing I noticed was the angry, raw rope burn slicing across his throat, layered on top of emerging bruises. Next was his eyes. While his whole body shivered, either from pain or the cold, his eyes stared at me with an indestructible steadiness and conviction. He looked at me like I was his prayers answered.

I dropped to my knees beside him and shrugged off my long coat. I tore the frayed edge of my dress and pressed it on the entry wound.

“Hold that there best you can.” He rolled his head to the side to look at me straight on and only then did I notice that he was the last person I should be helping.

The tattoo flowed around his left eye and down to his cheekbone in swirls of dark ink in the customary style of Svensung warriors. It was rumored a man was only tattooed once he had killed another man for the first time.

Something the Svensung men were known for doing liberally and brutally. Gratefully, not to our clan since the truce. But before I was born, it was a bloody time. The Svensung chieftain had been murdered and his pregnant wife gone. Since the relationship between the Svensungs and Ulfsungs was already a hostile one, they sought retribution, assuming it was our doing. The killing only stopped when our village had been burned to the ground, countless men and women and children slaughtered, and still the chief’s wife was nowhere to be found. They had suffered great casualties too, and eventually, a truce was agreed upon for the survival of both our clans.

My throat bobbed as my thoughts scrambled with what to do. “Curse the gods,” I swore and shook my head before deciding enemy or not, I wasn’t going to leave this dying man alone in the forest.

The man mumbled something indistinguishable and squeezed his eyes tight in a wince as I dragged him onto my coat spread out on the ground.

“Just my luck that you’d weigh as much as an ox,” I huffed under my breath, not that he could understand me anyway.

Even before the incident, our rivaling clans were on rocky terms at best. Spending centuries avoiding one another the best we could, led to changes in our dialects that made it impossible to understand the other without one of the few translators.

It was slow work carrying him back to the village, but after his initial wince, he only groaned a few times. His color was blanching quickly, and I hoped it was only because of the nighttime chill closing in on us and not the loss of blood.

By the time we made it back, the moon was high in the sky, and no one was milling about. The blacksmith's fire was nothing but small billows of smoke. The chickens were out of sight, nestled on their coop and the usual chorus of children playing was silent.

“Alright, Ox Man,” I said once inside my shelter. “One last big pull.” He nodded in acceptance, and I squatted low to drag him off my bloodied coat and onto a bed of furs.

I bustled through my small apothecary before returning to his side. I placed a hesitant hand on his chest, and his eyes, a cold blue, locked with mine.

“If I have anything to do with it, you're not dying tonight, okay?” I spoke as much to myself as to him. His chest rose and fell beneath my hand, the knife handle bobbing with it.

He tried to speak, but nothing but garbled, raspy sounds like falling grain came out. I prayed it was just damaged vocal cords from being strangled that was mangling his speech and not a punctured lung. There wasn't much I could do for the latter.

I cut open his shirt, and with shaky hands, I gripped the knife and steeled myself to pull it out. He blinked slowly, and I somehow knew that was him telling me he was ready.

I inhaled deeply to steady my hands and then yanked the blade out quickly. He roared a strangled cry, and I could feel the blade grate against bone as it withdrew. I immediately pressed all my weight on the wound with a bundle of linen. He groaned and his jaw clenched.

After a few minutes of pressure, I made quick work of stitching the entry wound and slathering it in honey.

“Can you sit up? It would be best if I could wrap the bandage all the way around.” He looked at me groggily, and I reminded myself he didn’t understand a word I was saying. I gestured sitting up with my hand and linked an arm behind his head.

As gently as I could, I levered him upright and slid behind him to keep him there. Once he was bandaged, he slid a blood-covered hand out across the furs and his fingertips curled around mine. He leaned back into me and tilted his head back to meet my eyes.

A powerful feeling coursed through me at his touch.

Yes, I had been manhandling him all night, but this was different, deeper, and my chest constricted at the unfamiliar meaning.

“What is your name?” I asked, one of the few phrases I knew in his tongue.

He flipped my hand over and traced a letter on my palm. And another and another.

“Tyr?” I asked once he stopped, he nodded, and a soft smile tugged at his mouth, like he was pleased hearing his name on my lips.

I pointed at myself. “Runa.”

“Roo-nuh” he breathed raggedly, his small smile spreading, and the tightness in my chest cinching.

I lowered him back to the furs and laid next to him, stiff as a board. I felt terribly awkward, so it was only a few moments before I was up again busying myself by adding more wood to the fire. Maybe if I stayed busy long enough he'd fall asleep by the time I came back. As uncomfortable as it was sharing furs with my enemy, it was far more uncomfortable sleeping on the dirt floor.

I put back my healing supplies and when I turned back to him, his eyes were closed, and he looked peacefully asleep in the amber glow of the fire. For the first time since finding him, I had a chance to look at him, really look at him.

His facial structure was masculine and bold, the tattoo only sharpening the strong angles of his face. A day's worth of blond growth dappled his cheeks and chin, and I shocked even myself when my next thought was how it would feel on my skin.

The bandaging covered his chest but left the chiseled etchings of his stomach muscles exposed, and again I had to clench my thighs together wondering what they'd feel like.

I shook my head, cursed my wandering thoughts, and walked the few steps back to the furs. I hoped to lay down next to him, quickly join him in slumber, and do my best not to dream of his body on mine.

I startled when he stretched an arm out as I knelt beside him. He lazily fluttered his eyes open and nodded to the space next to him. I wish I could say I hesitated, but I didn't. I laid myself down next to him, resting my head in the crook of his shoulder. He groaned again, but it was different from the pained ones of before. This was a contented sigh.

He bent his arm to softly, so softly, pet my hair. I was inexplicably comforted by his tender touch and the heat of his bare skin.

And that’s how I fell asleep in the arms of my enemy.

Chapter 2

The next morning, I crept out of bed, reluctantly unfurling myself from Tyr's side. I grabbed a bucket and my stained cloak and headed to the stream. My village was slowly waking up. Every person who turned to smile and wave my way made my heart rattle in my ribcage.

Did they know? Could they tell, just paces away, I was effectively breaking the decades long truce?

My mind made every smile look sickly sweet, a honeyed trap. I felt everyone's eyes on me. Was it all in my head? It had to be, they couldn’t possibly know.

I forced myself to greet them back but hurried my way to the stream. Passing shelters like mine, made of wood and thatch with dirt floors and no doors. The council structure and the temple were the only structures with doors.

We could use the wood and metal for better uses. A tanned hide kept the chill out and the only thing we'd need protection from were raiders that struck every few years, but doors wouldn't keep them out.

Smoke was billowing in varying heights, those who had started their morning meals and those still asleep with hearths full of embers. Without my cloak, the misty morning made me shiver and I braced myself for the even colder water.

Dunking the fur cloak into the stream, I used a rock to scrub the blood. The water flowered with red that quickly got swept away.

Realizing a war had, in fact, not broken out, I was more at ease walking back and able to enjoy some of the last bird songs before the winter cold took them away.

That was until I collided with my wide-eyed mother in the entry of my shelter. The bucket sloshed, splashing ice cold water on the both of us.

“Runa, who—” my mother began, but I shoved her back inside.

“He's a Svensung,” she hissed. Tyr lay contentedly asleep still and a weird feeling panged in my stomach seeing the peacefulness on his tattooed face.

“I know, I’m not blind.” None of my kin liked the Svensungs, but my mother really didn’t like them. I suspect it had something to do with my father. He died before I was born, and my mother refused to talk about him. I theorized he was killed by a Svensung causing her deep-seated hatred.

“Do you know what this means?” Her fists clenched and unclenched, her tell-tale sign she had passed anxiousness to full-on panic. The last time I saw her this way I had improperly stored our grain and mold grew, ruining our already dwindling supply after a poor harvest.

“I found him with a blade in his chest across the border, on our side. I saw his tattoos, but he was going to die, Mama, what choice did I have?” She ran her hands down his face.

“I don't know, Runa, I don't know.”

“Let's talk outside,” I hung the wet cloak on a hook by the hearth and ushered her outside, sparing one last glance at Tyr.

“I have to tell the Elders, they'll know what to do, how to fix this.”

“No, you can't. Please just give me a day to figure something out.”

She released a heavy sigh. “One day. That's it.”

She left. I went back inside and flopped down on the furs, finding myself once again drawn to Tyr's side for comfort. I looked at him, bandaged and bruised, and hung my head in my hands. What in Helheim was I going to come up with in one day?

• • •

My plan didn't develop into much throughout the day. The most I'd come up with is drop him back on the border tomorrow morning and pray to the Gods that they wouldn't think we were the ones who hurt him. But that got me thinking: what if the person who did this to him was his kin? Could he have been attacked by one of his own?

But all plans became irrelevant when Tyr started shivering in his sleep, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead. He had been sleeping most of the day, and that would be expected after so much blood loss.

But when he couldn't keep down any broth or even water, I knew I would have to get Ingrid. She was a gifted healer and would know what to do. I had a basic apothecary but wasn't skilled enough to get him through this alone.

The fever made his eyes glassy, and he shook uncontrollably. I used a damp bit of cloth to wipe his forehead one more time and explain I was going to get help, I wasn't leaving him. Even if he wouldn't understand me, I felt I needed to say it out loud, breathe the truth into the world: I wasn't leaving him.

I ran across the village square as fast as I could and returned with Ingrid. Ingrid worked quickly with fluid and decisive movements, years of expertise guiding her. She made a tonic that he was able to keep down the second time around and prepared a salve for his chest. She redid my bandaging, wiping off the residual honey to apply her salve.

“Was it something I did wrong?” I asked through a tight throat

“No, no, the festering is very mild thanks to your work. I believe the fever will pass too and he'll make it out the other side.” Gods, I hoped so.

When she left, I sat by his side and softly sung and waited. As soon as I involved Ingrid, the secret was out, and they would come. So, I waited.

The first song that came to mind was a wedding song about two lovers who never met but can feel the other in their soul. The woman grows old, never marrying and everyone thinks she is insane. Until one day, an old man wanders into their village seeking the woman who shares his soul, his soulmate.

Not long after, the three Elders burst into my shelter, my mother running in behind them. They crowded in, with axes and swords in hand, filling up the small space.

I stood protectively over Tyr, he grumbled incoherently in his fever sleep.

“Step aside, girl,” Mikael growled

“No.”

“Do you dare disrespect your elder?” another elder’s booming voice sounded like a thunderclap[SG1] . My mother pleaded with her eyes, begging me to not make this difficult.

“I do not intend any disrespect, only ask that I am allowed to honor my promise. I found him on our lands and made the commitment to keep him safe when I brought him back here. A commitment I wish to keep and ask you don't make me break.” I stood taller and met them all in the eyes. Respect and honor were the pillars of our clan.

I knew they were angry and scared for their people, but the Elders were good men and I hoped they would see I was just trying to do right by our code of honor. They were torn as I was.

“Those aren't just any warrior markings. He is high ranking. They will come looking for him, and I don’t need to remind you what happened last time these pigs thought we had one of theirs.” The others nodded gravely in agreement.

“I understand, but what if it was one of his own who attacked him. I cannot just hand him back to the wolves. Once he's lucid, I'll find out the truth and then know the best way to honor my commitment. Please.” I didn't beg or whine. I had to state my piece with conviction but humility.

“I will not allow our village to be desecrated like that again,” Jord added. “When, not if, they come, we will hand him over. You best hope you find out whatever truth you’re looking for before then.”

Chapter 3 –Tyr

I don’t know how long I was gone, only that when the fever haze began to clear, my chest no longer felt like a hot iron was being run through it. My throat no longer felt like it was being stepped on by a horse.

My eyes crept open with clear vision for the first time and there she was. More beautiful than I remembered, if that was even possible. Any words became a twisted knot in my throat as I watched her, unable to say anything that would break this Valhalla moment.

With her back to me, she combed her long, silky black hair in front of the fire. It shone like a raven’s wing in the firelight, majestic and powerful, and I itched to run it between my fingers. She hummed softly, a sound that had become my constant anchor to the earthside realm as the fever threatened to burn me to ashes.

Clearly unaware that I had woken, she finished whatever she was doing with her hair and then lifted her woolen day dress up and over her head. My cock hardened and I had to hold back a groan at the sight of her perfect body. She was soft curves all over. Her ass was strong and firm and way too plump to fit in one of my hands.

I didn’t know who had attacked me, last thing I remembered was a hunting trip with Ivar. We had split up when tracks we were following diverted. Next thing I know, I was being attacked from behind, strangled and then stabbed in the chest. I wasn’t sure of much, but I was sure that I would go through it a thousand times again if she was the one to save me.

She reached for a thin linen dress to put on. “Don’t do that.” The words were out of my mouth before I ever decided to speak them. She spun around in a shocked jump, clutching her garment to her chest.

“You can—”

“Speak Ulfsung, yes. Understand it too.” Her eyes widened and she chewed on her lower lip, making my pulse jump. “Don’t do that either,” I commanded as I stood up slowly and painfully, but desperate to be face to face with her. “No one bites those pretty lips but me.” I dragged my thumb over her lip, pulling it out from under her teeth.

She looked up at me for the first time, head tilted back to meet my eyes almost at the roof of her tiny structure. “Tell me, Runa, did you mean all those things you said when you thought I couldn’t understand you?” My voice was still husky and scratchy.

Her breathing deepened as she remained speechless. Her big, dark eyes were fixed on mine like she couldn’t decide whether she was living in a dream or a nightmare. The sweet way her mouth hung ever so slightly agape made something warm and primal swirl in my gut.

“When you sang songs of lovers and soulmates and traced my tattoo cursing the gods for giving you an enemy you couldn’t bring yourself to hate?” I used the back of my hand to stroke her cheek and she shuddered at my touch. “You saved my life thrice and yet, you can’t stand my touch?” She flicked her gaze to her feet, and I had to resist the urge to fist her hair and yank her head back so she was forced to look into my eyes and know I meant her no harm.

“It’s not that I don’t like your touch,” she said quietly.

“You will look at me when you speak to me.” I was a leader of my clan, I was used to demanding respect, but a foreign feeling scratched in my chest when my harsh tone made her flinch.

Her doe eyes burned up at me now through her lashes. “It’s that I don’t want you to stop.” A grumble caught in my chest. I’d led my men into battle, I’d looked death in the eye and laughed time and time again, and yet, this small woman was going to bring me to my knees.

“Who hurt you?” She asked a good question, one I should be uniquely focused on, but for the life of me I couldn’t think of anything else when her sweet scent and barely concealed body surrounded me.

“I don’t know, but right now there’s only one thing on my mind,” I answered honestly. “But first, let’s get one thing understood. You don’t ever cover your body in front of me. Not ever.” I couldn’t help the possessive lilt to my voice, and gently tugged at the shift she was still clutching against her.

I pulled it away and her breath caught as she became exposed. “Gods above, you are divine, little Runa.” My arousal grew uncomfortably in my pants. “You told me you don’t want me to stop, but you can always change your mind, understood?” I ghosted my hand down her shoulder, her soft skin a soothing salve to the fire that burned inside me.

“I know what I said.” I smirked at her response, my brave little Runa coming out once again.

“Good, because it will take Thor himself to stop me from touching you.” Ignoring the tearing sensation in my chest, I swooped down and picked her up, grasping her firm ass as she wrapped her legs around my waist and arms around my neck.

I swallowed her gasp of shock by crushing my mouth to hers, demanding her lips part for my tongue. She made my cock throb when she responded by pressing her bare body tighter to me and rolling her hips. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. I only existed with her here and now as everything about her perfection consumed my senses.

The fire crackled in the background, and I could smell her arousal as she slid her hot cunt against me. Filled with a frantic need, I laid her down along a bench, the only piece of furniture in her small space. I dropped to my knees at her feet, and she sat up, peering down at me between her legs.

“What are you doing?”

“The image of you on your knees for me is one I hope to see soon, but first I want to kneel before you and do what I’ve been aching to do for days.” Her thick thighs looked made for me under my hands as I pushed her knees apart.

“Which is?” she asked with a shaky breath.

“Taste you.”

Chapter 4–Runa

“Taste you.” With that he forced me back down by sliding a heavy palm up my stomach and made every tiny space inside me squirm as he dragged his nose up along the inside of my thigh. His breath tickled the sensitive skin and I had to restrain a moan when he traced the purple stripes of my stretched skin with his tongue.

“I’d like to learn every mark and line of your flawless body, but right now, sweet Runa, I am too hungry to go slow,” he said with a truly ravenous tone, before swiping his hot tongue along my wet slit.

“Ah,” I bit back the moan and clamped my mouth shut at the dizzying feel of his mouth sucking on my clit.

“I am not going to hold back on you, so don’t you dare hold back on me. I want to hear exactly how I’m making you feel.” He chided and bit down on the sensitive bud. This time I yelped out loud. “Good girl.”

My toes curled as he continued to suck and lick the parts of me that ached to be stroked. My fists clenched and unclenched by my sides as I struggled to contain the pleasure lighting up my body. Finally, deciding to instead grip his thick hair, he groaned satisfied as he ate me with everything he had.

My thoughts were a swampy puddle as I tried to think through the growing tension coiling in my gut and make sense of what was happening. My enemy, my lover. He was on the edge of death, and now, he was bringing me to an all too different edge.

And then toppling over it when he thrust two fingers deep inside me and curled them. I moaned and bucked my hips as tension burst in my core. A sweet euphoria melted over me and I gasped for breath as he continued to work my body.

“Tyr,” I managed to mewl out and I could feel him groan into my flesh, pleased at his name on my lips. “I can’t take anymore.” My body still pulsed around his fingers and throbbed almost painfully under the constant lavishing of his tongue.

“One more for me, sweet girl,” he ground out. And while he didn’t stop his ministration, he slowed it down to full, drawn-out strokes that would have made me weak in the knees were I standing. He pumped his fingers in and out in tempo with the swipes of his tongue and soon I was back on that precipice.

I moaned uncontrollably as my whole body contracted again. “Yes, that’s a good girl. Come for me.”

And I did. So hard I saw stars.

Chapter 5 –Tyr

Her legs clamped down on either side of my head and pride coursed through me at the feel of her coming undone for me yet again. I slowly withdrew my fingers and kissed her swollen flesh once more before standing to pick up her limp and satiated body in my arms.

I laid us both down on the furs and held her tight to me. I couldn’t get enough of her soft curves and the way her pillowy flesh felt in my grip. The delicious rolls of her stomach were accentuated as she curled up next to me.

She palmed my stomach and reflexively my muscles contracted under her touch. My skin burned and ached for her fingers to travel just a little lower. She bolted upright. “Tyr, you’re bleeding.”

She tried to stand up, and I pulled her back down by the hand. “Say my name again.” I’d bled before and I’d bleed again, but hearing my name on her tongue was something I’d never get over.

“Not until you let me change this bandage. Why didn’t you say anything?” she chastised before getting up and busying herself in the corner.

“Little one, I couldn’t feel anything other than the way your sweet cunt squeezed my fingers as you came undone so perfectly for me.” She froze, her back to me and I would have cut down a hundred men to see the look on her face in that moment. I heard her chuckle on an exhale, then get back to what she was doing.

As she worked, applying the medicine woman’s salve and wrapping a fresh bandage, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Everything from the delicate slope of her nose to the light smattering of freckles on her cheekbones was surely made by the Gods.

“You said I saved you thrice, what did you mean by that?” It took me a moment to process her question and pull myself away from memorizing every line of her face.

“You saved me in the woods, you saved me from the fever, and you saved me from your Elders. I wouldn’t have survived any of that without you.” I placed my hand over hers and drew it to my mouth so I could kiss the inside of her wrist.

“Ingrid saved you from the fever. I could not.” She looked away, a sadness to her tone. If only she knew she could never disappoint me.

“It’s a wise woman who knows when to ask for help. Seeking her help is what saved me.” She smiled softly and bit her lip making my cock twitch. “Remember what I said about biting that lip.”

She gave me a devilish grin before relaxing it, like she was tempted to see what would happen if she refused my order. Oh little Runa, I wish you would.

“You seemed so in a daze, I’m surprised you remember any of that.” Her comforting brown eyes looked at me thoughtfully.

“I was out of my mind, but I always heard you. In a dark sea of confusion, you were the one bright light.”

Chapter 6—Runa

After Tyr pushed my body to heights I didn’t know existed and I tended to his reopened wound, I fell asleep heavily and quickly. But sometime later, I woke up restless and unable to go back to sleep, replaying everything that had happened. The way he claimed my body like it had belonged to him since the beginning of time. The way he knew just the right places and strokes that would drive me wild.

You don’t ever cover your body in front of me. Out of all the things he said to me, that one sentence rang out again and again in my head. It was simple and far less striking than the many other things he said but it carried a heavier weight. It implied trust and security and that there would be a next time, a future.

I watched his chest rise and fall and was glad to see this latest linen wrap was still clean. I shifted next to him again and stared at the roof in frustration. I had so many questions.

“I can hear you thinking.” I jolted at his voice.

“Oh, sorry.” I instinctively curled into myself and away from his side.

His great muscular arm pulled me right back. “Don't apologize, simply talk to me.” He rolled his head to the side to meet me. “Don't hide from me, Runa. I want to know your every thought, every breath. I want to know the sounds you make when you stir in your sleep, when you stub your toe, when you're filled with my cock. I want your everything.”

My heart felt like it stopped beating, my ribcage crushing in on me. “How can you say that?” I propped myself up on my elbow and peered at the truthfulness in his features. He wholly believed what he was saying. “You don't know anything about me except that I'm your enemy.”

The corner of his mouth tugged up. “I doubt my enemy's cunt would taste so sweet.” I sighed, exasperated, but couldn’t help the small smile that played on my lips.

“But to answer your question: I know your soul and that's enough for me. I'm a decisive man, Runa, and once I decide what I want, I don't change my mind, and I’ve decided on you. But I won’t make that decision for you, if you decide you don’t want me, I will walk away. Even if it means cutting my heart in two.”

I swallowed, speechless. This was insane, but somehow it made perfect sense, and I found myself nodding in agreement. “I will let you know my decision.”

He brushed a piece of my hair behind my ear. “Such beautiful hair,” he murmured as if he didn't mean to say it out loud.

“What do they mean?” I asked tracing my fingertips along his tattoo.

“Many things.”

“My Elder said they meant you are high ranking, is that why you know Ulfsung?”

“Yes. My father is our chieftain, and I lead our fighting men.” He must have felt me stiffen beside him because he cupped my face, his big hand calloused and rough on my cheek.

“You’re the Svensung heir?” I asked on a shaky breath. He nodded.

“They'll come for you, they'll burn us to the ground like the last time their heir went missing,” I said through the panic rising in my throat.

“I won’t let that happen. I will find the man foolish enough to make an attempt on my life and I will make him pay, well before any harm comes to you and your people.” He steadied my trembling lip by sucking it between his. I sighed with relief into his mouth and yielded to his kiss.

He rolled me on top of him, and I rolled my hips against his lap, still completely nude. I felt him harden under me and I unashamedly rubbed my sex along his swelling pants. His jaw clenched and his fingers dug into my hips.

“Why is it that I am the only one fully unclothed?”

“Because you have not yet fully decided to be mine and without this small barrier, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from fucking you relentlessly and mercilessly. And I know that once I feel what it’s like to be inside you, I will never be able to give you up.” Again, my heart threatened to stop beating.

“I’m surprised a measly bit of fabric could stop a man like you,” I teased, still grinding, and gasped when I struck a particularly sensitive spot.

He growled. “Trust me, little one, I am just as surprised as you.”

Seeing this strong warrior’s control so tested by me did something to my confidence, to the wild animal prowling inside me. I ground down harder and faster, feeling that tension coil tight in my core. He groaned and met my movements with rocks of his own.

“Will you come for me like this?” I purred; wanting to see him crumble without ever becoming undressed.

“I could come by the sight of you alone.” He held my hips firmly in place while he bucked up against me. Gasping, I leaned forward and rested my palms on his chest. The forward angle made each movement hit perfectly against my clit and a moan became tangled in my throat.

“Oh Tyr, I'm going to—” he broke off my sentence by sliding me up to his chin. I looked down at his face confused. “Tyr?”

“Yes, little Runa, be a good girl and grind that sweet cunt on my face until you come apart on my tongue. I want to taste your pleasure.”

I started off hesitant with unsure movements, holding most of my weight up myself. He growled displeased and shoved me down on his mouth. “Don't make me ask again, Runa.”

“But—”

“You won’t hurt me, sit on my Gods damn face.”

The harsh timber of his voice left little room for argument. I found my rhythm as he tongue-fucked me. He moaned like he was enjoying this just as much as me, deep rumbly moans that vibrated against my core. I struggled to stay upright as my climax crested again. I fell forward and he caught my hands, intertwining our fingers by his head.

I cried out as my body shuddered, waves of pleasure wracking through me. Tyr eased me back down from my high with slow, gentle strokes of his tongue until I could breathe steadily again.

• • •

The air was crisp, and the morning mist felt like melted snowflakes on my cheeks. Tyr wanted to go back to the spot where I found him to see if there were any clues to the identity of his attacker. As our booted feet crunched over leaves and twigs, I thought about how much had changed since I followed that blood-streaked path. My heart twisted thinking about what would have happened if I hadn’t. Would my sweet and strong warrior die alone in the cold, dark woods?

I glanced up at him and felt warmth pool in my belly. He was so handsome it hurt. He walked beside me with ease, the only signs of his attack the faded, yellowed bruises dotting his neck.

“Doesn’t it still hurt?” It had only been five moons and here he was walking like a blade to the chest was nothing but a scratch.

“It doesn’t bother me much.” He shrugged as his eyes still scanned our surroundings like an experienced hunter. “Before you removed the knife, any little movement felt like I was being stabbed all over again. I could feel the metal grate against my bone and dig further into my flesh.” I couldn’t help but wince remembering the way it dragged on the bone when I pulled it out.

“The fever was the worst of it, now it’s healing and a mere flesh wound.”

“You’re incredible,” I breathed, looking up at his broad shoulders and square jaw, standing almost two heads taller than me.

He laughed, a warm gravely sound and his blue eyes peered down on me. “And I owe it all to you,” he said, and my cheeks burned.

I led us right to the spot. I knew these woods like the back of my hand. The indent where his hulking body lay was still there, but any blood had been washed away by the rain. I stood back and let him explore the scene. He crouched down and examined the ground.

“These footprints are fresh. They came back to check on the body, but I wasn’t here. They know I’m alive.” He stood and ran a hand through his messy blond hair. I stepped up to him and pressed my hands to his chest. His heart pounded under my palms, I could feel it even through the layers of his fur cloak.

“Why would someone want you dead?”

He scoffed. “Many people want me dead, sweet Runa. My clan isn’t known for making friends.”

“What do you want to do?”

“What do I want to do?” He stared down at me with a darkened gaze and one palm cupped my cheek while the other grabbed my ass and pulled me close. “What do I want to do? I want to fuck that pretty mouth until you gag on my cock. Then I want to fuck your sweet cunt that I know is dripping wet for me right now, until you feel me in your soul as I have felt you in mine. That, little Runa, is what I want.”

My breath caught in my throat. He gripped my chin firmly so I couldn’t look away bashfully. “Tell me you want it too and I’ll take you right here, right now. Tell me, are you mine?” His hand trembled as it clutched my face, his thumb stroking my bottom lip.

I didn’t have the words, I didn’t know how to answer that proclamation. So instead, I took his hand and slid it under and up my dress. He inhaled shakily as I dragged his hand over my sex. “Feel how wet I am for you. Does that answer your question?”

“Fuck, little one…” he ground out.

I dropped to my knees, not caring about the muddy ground, and untied his pants. His cock was already dotted with liquid on the tip, and I eagerly licked it off. The saltiness coated my tongue and I wanted more.

He shuddered when I dragged my tongue in a wide stroke from shaft to head and then took all of him in my mouth. I familiarized myself with the feel of his thick cock in my mouth before bobbing back and forth.

“Eyes on me, sweet girl.” I flicked my eyes up at him and my insides did flips at the heat and desire burning back at me. “Good girl,” he praised, and I moaned around him.

“You like being my good girl, don’t you?” I nodded as I sucked him down, never breaking eye contact and he stroked my hair. “Well then, be a good girl and relax your jaw so I can fuck your mouth like I own you. Would you like that, little Runa?”

“Mhm,” I hummed around his cock, delirious with need, and did as he asked, relaxing my jaw so he could pound into me. The pleasure I felt swelling in my chest from serving him was unparalleled. I wanted to give this man everything he wanted as I knew he would for me.

I looked up at him with watering eyes as he hit the back of my throat, making me gag. He wiped the tears in the corner of my eye tenderly with his thumb without breaking his heavy thrusts. “Such a good fucking girl.”

He knitted his fingers into my hair and pulled my head back, withdrawing his cock. He pulled me to my feet and crashed his lips down on mine. “Lift your dress, sweet girl. It’s time for me to make you mine.”

Chapter 7—Tyr

Gods above, she was taking my cock so fucking good. The feel of her wet, hot mouth sucking me down had me barreling toward my release. Pumping into her felt like Valhalla on Earth and I knew I wouldn’t last long. Weaving my fingers into her hair, I pulled her to her feet.

As my lips dominated hers, I could taste myself on her and that drove me fucking wild. I teased her tongue with mine and reveled in how easily she yielded to me.

“Lift your dress, sweet girl. It’s time for me to make you mine.” Wide-eyed and absolutely stunning with swollen lips and tousled hair, she did as I commanded. Walking backward until her back hit a tree trunk, she hiked up her dress, muddy at the knees.

I picked her up and she wrapped her legs around my waist, keeping her dress bunched at her waist. I became untethered at the feel of her slick cunt, sliding over my bare cock. All the times she rubbed me through my pants didn’t hold a damn torch to this moment.

She rolled her hips and mewled into my mouth. “Please, Tyr, I need you inside me.” The sweet sound of her plea made me squeeze her ass so hard it would bruise.

“Tell me your mine. I need to hear you say it.” My cock ached to fill her, but I needed her to give herself over to me first.

“I’m yours, Tyr. I’ve been yours since the moment I found you, and I will be yours until the moment I draw my last breath.”

“As I am yours.” I roared and thrusted into her so deep her back arched off the tree. Her fingers dug into my neck as she clung to me while I ruthlessly fucked her, claimed her, consumed her. Her commitment stoking the fire inside me that raged for her, that would burn the world to ashes for her.

“Gods, this cunt was made for me.” I groaned and bit down on her lip as her mouth hung open on a moan.

“You feel so good stretching me, filling me. Fuck, Tyr, give me all of you.” Her dirty words clawed at something primal inside me, and I bottomed out inside her again and again, losing myself in the rapture that was my sweet Runa.

“Yes, little one, take my cock, take it all.” My ribcage felt too tight as my heart expanded infinitely as I watched myself slide in and out of her. I could tell she was close by the sweet sounds she was making and the way her body pulsed around my cock. I dipped my head to nip and kiss my way up her throat before kissing her ravenously. She kissed me back, just as hungry, until she suddenly froze.

“What was that?” she asked, eyes darting behind me. “Did you hear that? I think I heard someone.”

I looked around, still inside her, but didn’t see anyone. The trees were thinned by the loss of leaves and visibility was good despite the mist. There was no one there.

“It was nothing,” I said, happy with the look of reassurance on her face but burning to feel her clench around my cock. “Now, be a good girl and come for me.”

• • •

The morning sounds began to creep into the shelter: the pattering of horse hooves, the sprinkle of grain being tossed to the ground followed by the hungry clucking of chickens. I couldn’t wait to take her back to my village and my home, three times the size of this ramshackle thing. I instantly found places the beams needed to be reinforced and spots in the roof that looked particularly vulnerable to leaks. She deserved only the finest of things and I would fix all of these for her, so she could keep a residence in her village too.

She stirred beside me on the furs, and I felt her as I always did. I couldn’t not feel her, even if I tried. She had become as much a part of me as my hand or my arm. No, that’s not right. I could live without an arm, but I could not live without her. She was my heart. My lungs. The very air that I breathe.

Before she rose, she brushed a kiss on my lips. “I have to visit my mother, I’ll be back soon,” she said, wrapping her cloak around her.

“Be safe, little one.”

She laughed. “It’s only a few paces away, I’m quite certain no harm will come to me.” And I was quite certain she was right, or else I would have gone with her.

She left, but I could still smell her on the furs. Just her scent alone had my cock twitching. Gods, I wanted to bury myself in her again and again until she was full of my seed and round with my child. She would be an absolute vision.

A blood-curdling scream tore me from my daydream.

“Tyr!”

Chapter 8—Runa

I welcomed the bite of the cold morning air. I welcomed anything and everything. I felt invincible shrouded in Tyr’s love. I couldn’t contain the skip in my step as I made my way to my mother’s shelter, the one I grew up in.

I waved to the children racing past me as they chased a loose piglet. I inhaled the smell of fresh bread being baked over a fire. I dodged a chicken running underfoot to beat the others to the grain.

A barreling chorus of horses approaching grabbed my attention. A hoard of horseback warriors with long swords and spears in the air came rushing into the village center. People in their path were screaming and running for shelter.

Svensungs.

Even without the pendant they flew and their customary face tattoos, I would be able to recognize them by the cold, merciless, bloodlust in their eyes.

A dark-haired man that seemed to lead them shouted something and pointed his spear at me, a look of pure hatred written across his face.

I felt frozen like a block of ice as they hurtled toward me. Two men jumped off their horses and lunged for me. The scream tore from my throat as they grabbed my arms with vice grips. “Tyr!”

The dark-haired man continued to shout at me in Svensung. He growled and switched to Ulfsung. “You are the one I saw attacking the chieftain’s heir.”

“No! I—”

He dismounted and yanked my head back with a fistful of hair. “You have broken the truce, and now, you will watch as we raze your village to ashes.” He swept his sword up and pressed the cold metal edge to my throat. It grated against my flesh as I swallowed down the fear and panic racing through me. Tyr will come for me.

“Stop! You cannot hurt her!” I would recognize my mother’s voice anywhere. She broke through the crowd of Svensung warriors surrounding us. “She is your lost heir.”

All heads turned to my mother as she panted, catching her breath. It felt like ice cold water had been poured down my back. Lost heir?

The dark-haired man’s eyes widened in recognition as he looked stunned at my mother. “Revna?” At the sound of a name I knew was not my mother’s, I was relieved but still confused.

“Yes, I am Revna, wife of slain Chief Sven Svensung and she is our daughter.”

The man stormed to her instead and placed the blade to her throat. I screamed and tugged in the arms of my captives. “Explain yourself, woman. Now.”

Two men on the inside of the circle crashed to the ground as Tyr burst through the crowd wielding my ax. With a matching look of anger and bloodlust, he roared at the men holding me. “Remove your hands at once or I will remove your head.”

They released me, and I ran into Tyr’s arms. He held me firmly and looked around at his people. “Ivar, what is the meaning of this? Where is my father?”

Ivar. The man that Tyr had been hunting with when he was attacked.

Ivar responded in a stream of foreign tongue, and I was shocked when my mother responded fluently. She despised the Svensung, hated them with every fiber of her being, yet she spoke their language?

She switched back to Ulfsung and what she said next shook me to my core. “Six and twenty years ago, Sven was beating me, like he did every night, despite my belly being round with his child. He was kicking me in the head so violently, his dagger fell from his belt. I grabbed it before he noticed it had fallen and waited until he tired himself out. When he finally finished and I was able to stand up, I killed him.”

My knees wobbled, and Tyr held me up while my mother continued her story, “I knew it wouldn’t matter that my face was black and blue, or that he threatened to cut my child out of me, so he could have his heir without having to deal with the sow any longer—for that’s all I was too him, a farrowing sow. I knew none of that would matter and I’d be hung, leaving my sweet, innocent child to be raised by wolves just as vicious as him, like his brother.” She sneered and glared pointedly at Ivar. The realization hit me like a blow to the stomach.

Dark hair was rare, so very rare. I was the only one in our village whose hair was as dark as a raven. My mother’s, like everyone else’s, was fair and golden. This brute in front of me, holding a sword to my mother’s throat was my uncle.

“So, punish me if you must, but do not punish the child for the crimes of the mother.” She jutted her throat out to push harder into his blade. My pulse roared in my ears as I struggled to process her confession. It felt like trying to breathe under a waterfall, the torrent forever pushing me down, down, down.

“Where were you when we tore through this village looking for you?” Ivar demanded. “I do not believe you could have remained hidden, for we left no stone unturned.”

“I was gone. I went deep into the mountains. I only came down when Runa fell ill, she was nearly a year old but on death’s door.” Her gaze floated to me, and her features softened with love and pride. “But as you can see, she survived. Your lost heir is alive.”

Chapter 9—Tyr

My sweet Runa trembled in my arms as her mother’s words brought her world crashing down. I clutched her to me as I too tried to reconcile this new discovery.

At the time of Chief Sven’s death, I was just a boy, but my father told me how he came to lead our clan. Without the heir, Ivar was the natural successor being Sven’s brother, but he was young and wild, and the clan did not think him fit, so they voted for my father, a young but brave and skilled warrior to take the mantel.

If only my father was back from his trading visit to the eastern clans. He would be able to identify Runa’s mother as the woman she said she was. Though I was inclined to believe her, especially as Ivar himself seemed to recognize her.

“Ivar, let her go,” I ordered, and he bristled.

“She killed my brother!” He pushed her down onto her knees, and Runa screamed and tried to go to her, but I kept her clutched tight to me. I wasn’t letting her out of my arms until this was resolved, not when her life was already threatened once today. Once was too many.

“Who was an abusive son of a bitch by the sounds of it, why else would she risk raising her child alone in the mountains, if not to escape him?” My hand twitched to punch any man who thought it acceptable to strike a woman.

Ivar turned his attention to me, red coloring his cheeks. “How dare you speak ill of your chief! Your father and you are nothing but impostors.”

I pushed Runa behind me and stood eye to eye with him, forcing him to look up at me as I was taller and stronger than him. “My father is our one and only chief, and it is traitorous to suggest anything else.” My voice was steady but firm, and his nostrils flared.

That’s when I noticed the loop on his belt that always, always, held his slain brother’s dagger was empty. Fire pumped through my veins as I turned to Revna. “Go to Runa’s and bring me the knife that was pulled from my chest.” As if she knew my train of thought, she took off running as Runa shouted specifics to her.

I swung the ax in my hand until stopping abruptly at the side of Ivar’s neck. With just a downward flick of my eyes, I had him kneeling before me, my hand itching to hack into his neck. “Tell me, Ivar, when she returns with the blade that tried to kill me, will it be yours?”

His jaw clenched, his lips pressed firmly closed, and my patience snapped as I bellowed, “Answer me!”

“It should have been me at the head of the clan, not some peasant soldier. With you gone, I could have killed him and regained my rightful seat.” Spit flew from his mouth as he seethed the words that would seal his fate.

The crowd parted for Revna as she rushed back to me, dagger in hand. All it took was one look at the knife for me to swing the ax with a mighty yell. In one wicked swoop, his head came clean off.

I dropped the ax and turned to my Runa. I grabbed her hand and turned in a circle, looking every one of my warriors in the eyes. I raised her hand, wrapped securely in my own and spoke in Svensung, “This woman is the lost heir of Sven Svensung. Fate would have it that she is the one that found and saved me, when the coward, Ivar, tried to end me. Tried and failed. She won my heart, and she won my soul. She will lead this clan beside me as my equal and as my wife. She will save and unite our clans as she saved and united my broken pieces.” Pride swelled in my chest as all around us, my men kneeled before my woman.

Runa’s big doe eyes looked up to me, full of questions and full of love. “What did you say to them?”

“That I am yours and you are mine.” The smile that spread hesitantly across her face and the trust in her eyes was so precious that I too kneeled before her. “Will you be my wife, Runa of Svensung?”

Tears welled in her eyes as she bit her lip and nodded excitedly. Heat swirled in my stomach as I stood to claim my bride in front of everyone, sweeping her mouth to mine. I teased her lip out with a tug of my teeth and growled against her mouth. “What did I say about biting that lip?”

Dear reader,

I hope you enjoyed this short and spicy story!

Join my best friend and I weekly on The HEA Book Club Podcast as we chat, laugh, and swoon over fictional men with often questionable morals.

Instagram—@SummerOtoole

TikTok—@SummerOtoole