Page 60 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

“It is my due. My glory is their glory.”

Absolon laughed. “Is that how you see it? As service to the legend of Ragnar the Red?”

“They should be grateful for it. What other meaning would their lives hold? None of them ever actually love me, anyway. Åke never lovedme, just the idea of me.”

And my family didn’t even love that.

“And what about me?”

“What about you?”

Absolon stared at him. Waiting.

“What?”

Absolon sighed. “Nothing.” He walked away.

“Sol, what is it? If you want my thanks, you have it, but I won’t feel guilty about Åke’s death.”

“Of course not. Ragnar the Heartless never feels guilty about anything.” He entered the house, leaving Ragnar with a sick feeling bubbling inside his stomach. Could Absolon really be upset that he’d killed Åke?

Absolon reappeared.

“Why didn’t you kill Åke in the forest when you first took him?”

Absolon blinked. “I had an idea that I could use him to wring some remorse from you.”

“And are you satisfied?”

He grimaced and bade him lead on. He kept that disgruntled look, like Ragnar had missed something important. It riled him. He should be pleased there were now no rivals for his affection. Ragnar forged ahead.

They sprinted into the forest, and he forgot about the chains fastening around his chest that wanted to bind him to this shitty farm. He instead celebrated the speed bestowed upon him. He’d already had a taste of it in the speed and force with which he fucked Absolon, but this was something else.

The ground and the wind did not hamper him, and they were deep inside the forest before he realized. He hollered with joy and ran farther and faster. He used his speed and strength to jump high into the oak trees like a squirrel bounding through the canopy, and when he landed on the ground, it trembled with the force of his impact but left him untouched. He grinned.

He dug up large boulders like they were pebbles and hurled them into trees that then crashed to the ground. He lifted their trunks above his head. He had to apply his strength, but he was infinitely stronger than he had once been. There would be limits, he could feel that in the strain of his muscles, but they were beyond anything in creation would require.

Such power!

Absolon let him run, let him break things, watched and eventually laughed while he played. By the time he’d grown weary of it, the forest looked like a giant had stormed through and laid waste to the land in search of children to eat. He laughed, a harsh sound that cut out of his chest and throat and cackled into the destroyed grove. There was nothing he could not do.

“What’s so funny?” Absolon appeared at his side.

“Just how easy this all is.” He cupped Absolon’s head in his hands. “To think what we can do. Is there more? What else did Lysander tell you? What else have you learned?”

Absolon took hold of Ragnar’s wrists and pulled himself free. “I’ve learned that it gets lonely.” He kissed the palms of Ragnar’s hands. “But you’re here now.”

Absolon looked at him expectantly, but Ragnar could not utter the words he knew Absolon wanted to hear. He didn’t know why.

“Come. Tell me what else you know of our kind.” He took Absolon by the hand and led him slowly back through the forest so they could talk, and so Ragnar could learn all he had to before he left for good.

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