Page 19 of Ragnar

Now that I have accepted my weakness, now that I have looked my mortality in the face, I am able to see the beauty in Ragnar’s form. He isn’t even remotely human, and I love it. The men that huddle away from Ragnar in fear are considered attractive by our standards. They are the norm and yet they hide blackened souls.

Ragnar may not look like a GQ model, he may have scales and spikes, sails and fangs but he is infinitely more beautiful to me. His snarls affect me like the finest violin might, music to my soul as he confronts the threat. As he protects and cares for me. A balm to the broken. A song that haunts my soul.

“You will let us leave. If we hear so much as a peep from behind us, I will lead him straight into your lair and slaughter each and every one of you. If you even think you see us, no you didn’t. From this moment forward, we do not exist to you.” I shout, making my words clear even to those beyond the doors.

“You know I can’t make that promise.” Sam says, his voice giving away some of his exhaustion. Guilt flashes through me but I tamp it down. He doesn’t deserve my pity. We were friends once. Now we stand on two different sides of justice.

“Regreee will be safe.” Ragnar snarls, his monstrous voice booming through the space. Eyes widen and curses ring out.

“It can fucking talk?” A few ask, their agitation growing with their shock. Our time to escape is growing short and I do not bother answering them. Quickly I back up until I can feel one of his giant legs. Turning as fast as I can, I motion for Ragnar to kneel. When he does, I climb back to my spot.

Men shout and the boom of a gun is deafening. We must escape, the drive to get away blocking all sound, all thought from my muddled mind. No sooner than my ass hits his back, Ragnar takes off. Shouts echo around us, followed by more booming shots. Dust and debris kick up all around us as he runs full tilt towards a wall. My scream of warning is drowned out as we crash through it. Brick and stone fall in a rush but Ragnar doesn’t even stumble as the building gives way, running as fast as he can from the chaos.

My breaths come in panicked, painful bursts as I cling to his massive back. Garnering courage I look behind us, watching the store shrink away as we weave between broken down apartments and abandoned cars.

A small squeak has my gaze flickering down to the ground. Joy fills my heart when Floofy’s small body comes into view, his little face scrunched up in concentration, not wanting to be left behind. With a big leap he latches his teeth into Ragnar’s tail, holding on for dear life. To his credit my mate doesn’t even flinch, toting us both to safety.

For long, agonizing moments I wait for pursuit. When none comes, I try to stem the panic attack that I can feel building. A by-product of the jumbled mass of emotions. Shivers skitter down my skin and I feel a flash of cold and hot that alternates. My harsh breathing gains speed as the tornado of panic, fear, sadness and upset begin to spiral out of control. When our lives were on the line, I could control the effect of my trauma. Now that we are semi-safe? It comes crashing down.

“Ragnar!” I gasp out, holding a hand to my chest as if that will keep me from splintering apart. As if it can keep this storm at bay with my own strength. HIs big body jolts at the tone in my voice, one he has never heard before. A whine escapes him as he slows, throwing his massive head back and forth to assess the danger level. The distant roar of a vehicle has him shifting nervously.

“Regreee hurt?” He questions, his snout lifted to the air as if scenting for blood. My rapidly beating heart squeezes with adoration for this massive male who is injured beyond belief, dark green blood leaking from his own wounds, and yet he is only worried for me. Though my body feels like it is turning to ice from the inside out, and panic thumps through my veins I reassure him as best I can.

“Panic attack. Get us to safety.” I gasp out, holding my chest once more, unsure if the words will translate right, but willing to take the chance. Floofy, who has crawled his way to Ragnar’s back, whines worriedly, his little eyes flashing behind us with anxiety. Grabbing him up tight, I hold him to my chest. His little body thaws the ice gripping me marginally.

Despite the growing sounds of pursuit, Ragnar keeps his head tilted, one of his beautiful eyes trained on me as if he doesn’t trust my words. We both flinch when another booming shot can be heard.

“Please. Safe then help.” I gasp out, closing my eyes to shut out the fading sunlight. It feels like daggers to my brain as my vision begins to tunnel and I can only focus on breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Another whine vibrates beneath me before we are off once more. I want to comfort him, I want to be strong like I have every other time our world fell apart, but I can’t. My demons have their hooks in me, and they aren’t letting go.

Chapter Fourteen

*Ragnar*

Something is wrong. Regreee is panting, her breathing shallow as she slides from my back and stumbles through the doors of a mostly intact house. Its front door was still on the hinges, and I gave a sigh of relief when it swung inward. Beyond the door is cast in shadows. Fear for my mate pushes me to shift so that I can follow her.

My shoulders barely clear the door frame while the ceiling feels like it is closing in upon me, but my comfort doesn’t matter. Regreee’s does. While keeping her in my sight, I scent the home. To my relief the only other alien I can smell is Floofy. The damned nuisance is hot on my mate’s heels, rubbing his fur along her legs. Aggression swells in me that he is scenting her, my inner beast rearing its head. With a soft growl I shut him back into the recesses of my mind. Floofy is doing nothing more than offering comfort to my mate, something I should be doing.

Eating up the distance between us, I push through the weird layout just as my mate is entering another room. This room isn’t like the others, this one has a nest in the center. It is dusty from disuse, but Regreee ignores it, plopping onto the soft surface with another gasping breath.

Forcing my way through the door once more, I barely register the cracking of the wooden frame or the crash of the door as it falls. My focus is solely on her. Bending down, I crouch to make myself as small as possible and force my way into her line of sight. Panic seizes me when I realize she isn’t truly seeing me. Her eyes are glassy, and her hand is pressed tight to her sternum.

“Regreee? Are you alright?” I ask, thankful my voice isn’t as harsh as it is in my other form. I do not wish to scare her, especially not in this state. Frustration builds, the need to fight her unseen foes is like a pain inside of me.

Her hand shoots out, gripping my shoulder tight as she breathes. She doesn’t answer in words, her glassy stare unfocused upon the dirty wall behind me. Gently I shake her, unsure what to do. Unsure how to help, it makes my skin itch and crawl to be unable to do anything. To be rendered useless.

Moving closer, I shove her legs apart until I can get close to her. Slowly, so as not to scare her, I wrap my arms around her. She feels slight in my embrace, her trembling terribly harsh for her small body. She remains stiff for a moment, until I am afraid she will refuse my comfort. Like a dam breaking, she gives a small cry and launches against my chest.

Wrapping her up tight, I turn us so that I can sit back on the comfortable bed, the human word for a nest. She curls tighter into me, her head shoved beneath my chin. I am careful to keep my spikes and sails from her delicate flesh while squeezing her as close as I can. Words threaten to tumble from my throat, but I am not confident I can convey what I am feeling or what I want to know.

My own aches and pains are forgotten in the face of this unknown battle that she is waging. Her breathing hasn’t slowed, and her trembling is only getting worse. Floofy gives a whining huff before joining us on the bed. I want to slap him into the floor, but I fight the reaction, letting him snuggle close to her thigh where it drapes over my own.

Silence stretches between us and soon I feel my own breathing threaten to match her frantic pace. It feels like forever before I notice a subtle change in her. Long agonizing minutes of holding her in my arms, keeping her pieces from falling apart. The first sign of improvement is imperceptible at first. Her trembling lessens little by little, the warmth seeping from my scales to her pinkening flesh.

As her trembling subsides, her breathing slowly follows suit. I hardly breath myself, afraid that the changes will revert, and she will be back to the silent battle. A battle I cannot fight for her. The feeling of helplessness leaves my chest burning, a yawning chasm of unspoken need, yet it means nothing at all in the face of her pain.

“Ragnar!” She gasps, tightening her grasp on my neck, returning the ferocity of my embrace.

“I am here. I am here.” I chant, hoping it conveys what I want to say. I am here. Till the breath leaves our lungs and doesn’t return. Even then, I will follow her into the afterlife. Where she goes, I go. Her battles are my own. Her pain is my own. She defines me and for the first time the weight of that feeling is crippling.

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