Page 10 of Alien Viking's Passion

Or maybe it was just her, Aretha reflected. The sleepless night she’d spent at Kjornar’s farm had turned into endless feverishreplays of the way Craxon had hacked through the swarm of vettir, brought the light back into her desperate struggle for life, and chased the monsters away.

She’d had her life saved before, when Gornt kidnapped her. Back then, Craxon had been a vital part of rescuing her and getting rid of Gornt.

And now, having had her life saved by Craxon again, just him and in the nick of time, was much more intense than she’d ever expected. From that first moment, she’d wanted to give her rescuer anything he wanted. She wanted to cling to that big, invincible warrior, to feel his warmth, to feel him inside her, hard and deep, like he deserved.

If he hurt her, fine. A man eight feet tall had to hurt when he took her. Shewantedit to hurt. Shewantedto take it for him. He deserved it. He deserved to have her. He deserved it a thousand times over. He had brought her back from certain death. Surely that meant he shouldpossessher…

The sheer fantasy made her breath catch in her throat as she squeezed her thighs together. Oh sweet Earth, what amanhe was… she could come just thinking about him… why the fuck wasn’t herhere?Maybe she should go look for him…

No.

She shook her head and forced her feet further apart. She couldnotget involved with anyone here. She wouldnotmake Josie’s mistake. She was going home to Earth. That was it.

A flirt or two with a Viking warrior might be fun. But with Craxon, no innocent flirt was possible. With him, it could only be everything. Because of that, she had to choose nothing. And he hadn’t just savedher. He’d saved Chen, too. To him, there wasnothing special about her—

“Not in the mood?” a voice said beside her.

It was a Viking man, young and lean, muscular and tall. His beard was short and sparse, his tattoo-like marks glowed across his bare torso, and his proud horns curved backwards in an arrogant arc. Those marks had to be new, Aretha judged, recently burned into him by the magic arclight in the terrible Ice Caves. He was probably younger than her by a good four or five years, a mere kid. But he was a cocky kid, because he was now a full warrior.

“I’m fine,” she said curtly, not interested in entertaining a youngster like this. “Why don’t you go dance with the shieldmaidens? They’re looking at you.”

“There will be a time for shieldmaidens,” the boy said. “Now, I’m curious about the alien females who were captured and brought here for us to enjoy.”

“I think you’ll find it was a mistake,” Aretha said, wanting the boy gone. “Your earl has apologized for it.”

“And yet Earl Bragr married one of you,” the kid went on as he got in front of her, towering over her and obscuring her view of the dance. “We all wonder why. What is it about these aliens that could ensnare our legendary chief? Some of us want to experience it for ourselves.”

“Some of youshould try to kiss one of your own girls first, before you start looking at aliens,” Aretha coldly suggested, the alcohol in her blood making her impatient. “I think that’s a good mission for you right now. Could you step to the side, please?”

The Viking boy reached out and stroked cold fingers up along Aretha’s cheek. “Like I shaid, there will be a time for that.” The scent of myod washed over her. He had clearly had too much than was good for him.

Aretha grabbed his wrist and pushed it away, painfully conscious that he was much stronger than her. “Warrior, you are about to act with dishonor. Your chief is not going to like it.”

“If it’sh dishonorable to touch an alien female, then he’s the mosht dishonorable of all,” the youth managed, one clumsy hand reaching for Aretha’s chest.

She tried to slap the hand away, but finally she had to grab his wrist with both of her hands. “One breath from now, I’m going to scream. You will be surprised at how angry your chief will be.”

The boy’s other hand shot out to grab her throat. “Can you shcream now, alien? Come on. Scream for Heningr!”

Aretha gripped his wrist with both her hands, trying to pull it away, but he was strong and it was like touching steel. Panic started to tug at her as she fought for air.

“You’ll scream so well in a moment,” Heningr chuckled, his pale blue eyes swimming in an alcoholic mist, “when we have our fun. Now come along—”

Suddenly the hand was gone and the boy was hovering in the air, arms flailing.

“The aliens are not for boys,” a deep voice growled. “They’re far too dangerous to deal with. Be on your way now, little warrior.”

Heningr flew through the air and landed on the ground ten yards away with a loud ‘oof’, forcing the dancing couples to step over and around him. Nobody took much notice.

“Are you all right, Aretha?” a voice rumbled.

She looked up. Piercing blue-gray eyes looked down at her, marks of silvery frost outlining a big body. Suddenly her world was in perfect order again.

“I’m fine,” she croaked, checking her throat with one hand. “He just had too much to drink.”

“That is a common excuse,” the huge warrior said. “But I think he would have done this anyway.” He came in close and checked her neck, being careful not to touch.

Typical,Aretha thought.The one guy you really want to touch is too decent to take any liberties.

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