Page 85 of The Viking in the Vault
Kallisto exhales, looking toward the warming station like she’s already mapping out excavation plans in her head. “It would explain why the archive records don’t have any mention of ancient Skoll pods. If they were deep in the ice from the start, buried beneath layers of seismic activity, they might have been lost long before anyone realized what they were looking at.”
Ragnar nods, slowly. “My people were built to endure. We were warriors, hunters, explorers. We did not fear death, but we did not welcome it either. We would have done everything possible to survive. If there were others…” He trails off, his fingers tightening around mine. “If thereareothers…”
“...they’d still be fighting,” I murmur.
Ragnar’s gaze sharpens. “Yes.”
Kallisto hums. “I’ll send the data up to the lab for deeper analysis. If there’s a wreck, we’ll find it.”
“But,” Davina cuts in, “not tonight. No offense, but we’re all on the verge of passing out, and you’re talking about deep-excavation recovery like we don’t need a full night’s rest first.”
Kallisto hums. “Fair point.” She pushes herself up, brushing the dust from her gloves. “I’ll finalize the report, then I’m turning in.”
The others make their way to their pods, one by one, until it’s just me and Ragnar left by the fire. Fenrik is curled up beside us, his breathing slow, content, but Ragnar…Ragnar is wound tight, like something is pressing against his ribs and has nowhere to go.
I clear my throat.
He keeps looking at me.
“Are you okay?” I finally whisper.
A low growl rumbles in his throat. “That my whole crew could be down there…” he murmurs. “It changes things, doesn’t it? They will all need help adjusting,allwill struggle. When it was just me, I believed…I thought perhaps it was better they had died and I lived. Now, I’m not so sure.”
“Why would you think it was better?” I ask. “Aren’t you—I don’t know, aren’t you happy?”
He swallows hard, pulling me just slightly closer and raising his other hand to brush his knuckles down my cheek. “I was happy that I found you, fenvarra. Eager to begin our life together. This complicates that life.”
I bite my lip, lips curving into a soft smile as I lean into his touch. “It doesn’t complicate it too much,” I say. “I mean…I always wanted a big family.”
His eyes spark at those words, and I realize he has taken a much different meaning from it than I intended.
“I long to give you what you crave, fenvarra,” he purrs.
“Oh,” I gasp, perpetually stunned by his ability to go from zero to a hundred on the horniness scale in seconds. “Um…I meant—I have a big family, I don’t mind meeting yours.”
Ragnar’s grip tightens around my waist, pulling me even closer than before—as if there wasn’t already practically no space between us. I guess I’m glad he’s distracted, but his attention is purely on me now and it’s…a lot. I can almost readhis thoughts:Big family. Mate wants big family. Give mate big family right. Now.
“You wish to bear my children,” he growls, lips finding my temple and trailing down.
I nearly choke. “Ragnar—no! I mean, not no, just…not right now.”
“So notno,” he repeats slowly. “Just…not yet.”
I open my mouth to argue—I really mean to argue—but his big hands slide down my hips to pull me into his lap, strong and possessive, and I forget how to form words. My body betrays me instantly; his scent wraps around me, and suddenly the conversation isn’t so funny anymore.
“Fenvarra,” he rumbles, lips on my throat now, fingers gliding beneath my sweater to find bare skin. He’s so warm it shocks me, makes every hair on my body stand on end. “You are all I dreamed of…all I hoped you would be.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk more?” I squeak, though I’m fully confident that I don’t want to talk anymore either. My hands find his shoulders, gripping him as he trails kisses down my throat.
“I want you to come to bed with me,” he says. “I want to lick your cunt until you scream and wake the others.”
“Ohhhh wow,” I moan, breath hitching. “Wow, that’s something.”
Ragnar chuckles, and in the back of my stupid mind I find myself happy he’s at least back to his usual self—unrepentant, blunt, and undeniably horny.
“I will take that as a yes,” he murmurs, smug.
And then I let out a yelp as gravity shifts and he’s lifting me up, my arms wrapping around his neck to cling to him. “Ragnar!”
