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Shared by The Vikings A Reverse Harem Romance Lily Harlem Online Ebook Texxtbook Full Chapter PDF
Shared by The Vikings A Reverse Harem Romance Lily Harlem Online Ebook Texxtbook Full Chapter PDF
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Shared by the Vikings
By
Lily Harlem
www.StormyNightPublications.com
Harlem, Lily
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual
activities
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Chapter One
gnarled wooden table, rattling against each other before settling into
the
blew beneath the door, bringing with it two leaves and a long black
raven’s
feather. Rain pelted down on the turf roof, sounding as though Thor
himself
Except for Ingrid. She’d taken to the highest hill to seek providence.
She tugged her hood tighter, the rabbit fur velvety on her cheeks.
Being here
least that was what the king, her father, would say.
Not that she was afraid the seer would spread ghostly whispers
about her
men and the gods—life and death—the seer had more pressing
matters to
attend to.
her father, and trusted him, she knew it was truly the gods who
determined
everyone’s fate.
“Ah, how I suffer...” The seer grimaced and used his palms to tap
and assess
where the bones and beaks now lay. “To see such things.”
must not. The seer wasn’t known for his patience, and she did not
wish for
tempered princess.
“A bear wishes to marry the wolf, a wolf that is wild and free.” His
voice was
hoarse, as though his throat had worn out from centuries of casting
prophecies.
Ingrid bit on her bottom lip. To her right a string holding bird bones
separated
by twigs and clutches of heather hung from the roof. She stared at it
to again
“No man or animal can tame a wolf unless the wolf wishes to be
tamed.” His
Although his eyes were milky, with no center, the seer stared at
Ingrid. “I see
ocean is unhappy. Aegir wishes to rise up, then swallow, sink back
down,
“Both!” He slammed his hands onto the table; the beaks and bones
jumped,
and wax over-spilled and leaked from a candle, the ensuing drip
running tear-
“Why, why do you beg?” He paused and tilted his chin. “You are a
princess
height and retreating into his hood and the folds of his cloak so she
could
barely see his face. The small white skull pendant—a mouse most
likely—
hanging from his neck swayed with the ticking of her heart. “Many
would
say you have everything a woman could desire. A father who loves
you.
Comforts and treasures many have not. The gods have blessed you.”
“And I am grateful, really I am.” Ingrid twisted her hands together. If
Thor or
Odin were listening, she needed them to believe her. Her heart was
thankful
The seer turned and dipped his hand into a wooden box.
Ingrid ignored the wind as the seer withdrew something from the
box. He
“What is it?”
He didn’t reply, instead he turned his palm over and revealed a small
dark
rune stone. Red flecks shone from its green surface and it was the
shape of a
plump berry.
“Bloodstone,” he said as she took it. “It will help a lost soul see
change on
the horizon.”
“I give you this rune as a protective talisman. It will give you the
strength and
courage you need to brave the storm.”
Ingrid trapped it in her hand and glanced at the wooden door, which
was still
rattling as the wind beat it. Was this the storm the seer was talking
about?
The one that shook her village right now. Or were there more on her
horizon?
littered with dried herbs. “You must see the change and summon
courage.
“All of them, the bear will drive the wolf to the ocean.” He slumped
into a
chair beside a waning fire. The skull hanging from his neck settled
on his
chest. “Now go, the gods have exhausted me with their instructions
and
Ingrid poked out her tongue and dragged it over the cool, dry flesh
of his
palm. She had so many more questions for the seer but it was clear
her time
with him was over. Now she had to get back to her home, to her
father, for
were late for that, there’d be displeasure in the king’s eyes, and
since losing
her beloved mother, she hated to give him further reason for pain.
She had one last glance around the seer’s abode then slipped the
bloodstone
into a pouch attached to her belt. Once it was safely nestled beside
her strike-
Instantly the wind whipped around her and she battled to refit the
iron latch;
it seemed the angry air wanted to take the door from her and hurl it
toward
the gods. When she’d finally managed the task, she clasped her
cloak beneath
her chin and ran down the dark hillside, using her free hand to
steady herself
on passing tree trunks that were dotted with lichen. It was wet and
slippery
underfoot but Ingrid wore leather trousers beneath her cloak and
her boots
were new and made by the finest tanner in the village so she
traveled with
swift ease.
The rain pelted her face and stung her cheeks. Twice the wind
gripped her
hood and yanked it from her head, sending her dark hair flying out
behind
her. The winter seemed to penetrate her soul, invading her lungs
with its rusty
brew of storm rain, mud, and fungi. But soon she was back in
Ravndal
making her way past longhouses, stables, and pens of chickens and
goats.
Peeking inside the great hall it was apparent the banquet was about
to start.
tankards of mead on long tables that were littered with apples and
nuts. Three
more fires in cast-iron bowls hung from the ceiling on chains and
kept the
night chill at bay.
Quickly slipping into her chamber area at the west of the longhouse,
she
rag, she wiped the worst of the mud from her boots. She removed
her cloak,
She turned. Her handmaiden, Helga, stood there, face pale, long
neck peeking
Her father had asked that she wear a dress, plait her hair, and
displayed her
mother’s jewels. She’d barely given herself time to preen yet alone
be
presentable for a village feast hosting guests. One particular guest
her father
talked of Bjorn Har many times over the last few days.
She pulled on a white under-top, then her maiden assisted her with
a red yarn
neckline was low, the pale skin of her slight cleavage visible.
“Ja.”
soft orbs of her small breasts. She had yet to be with a man, but
she’d seen
and heard others in the village mating. Men planting their seed in
the hope of
especially when the mead was flowing and revelry was in full swing.
She,
however, wanted her first time with a man—her husband—to be
special.
Not for the first time her mind wandered into the future. She hoped
her
a great provider, and brave and loyal. She’d yet to marry him, but
already
loved him. For she knew she’d only settle for a Viking of the highest
quality,
and she knew her father would only hand her over to such a person.
one of the young men in the village, Raud Lothi—and set to her task
of
She smiled as she thought of Raud. He was one full moon older than
her, and
the forest and fjords. When Ingrid’s mother had passed with the
fever four
summers ago, Raud’s mother had comforted Ingrid, knowing when
to speak,
and when to stay silent as sorrow shrouded Ingrid’s life for the
longest of
winters. Raud had been the one to remind her how to smile. His
playful
nature, his quick genuine laughter, and his refusal to put her on a
pedestal
despite her father being king were a salve for her grief. She’d always
be
Soon her hair was twisted into tight plaits and piled at her crown
with several
sprigs of dark rose heather sticking from it. She added dark brown
streaks
made from crushed walnuts and soot above and beneath her eyes,
and dabbed
dried berry paste onto her lips to give them a bruised shine.
The king pushed the curtain aside and stepped into her space. He
filled it with
his wide shoulders adorned with a shimmering onyx wolf pelt. Two
large iron
buttons connected by a chain were pinned either side of his chest.
“Are you joining us?” he asked, ramming his hands onto his hips and
his
“Here. Let me.” He reached onto the table and picked up the bronze
chain;
“But you are a grown woman now. I miss the little girl who used to
sit on my
lap listening to stories of the gods even when you could hardly keep
your
eyes open. I miss our trips to the forest, where every new thing put
a shine of
“I still love to listen to your stories.” She rested her hand on his.
“And
He sighed and worked on the clasp of the necklace. “It is true what
you say,
it.”
Ingrid said naught though her mind galloped as the seer’s words
came back to
her. Did her father know she’d visited the seer? Had the words of the
gods
“Now more than ever you need your mother with you,” he said, “to
guide you
into womanhood. She is not here, but this, her favorite piece is. I am
glad you
will be wearing it tonight.”
“Ja, Father.”
“It will not be easy but it will be for the best.” He paused. “It is time
for you
“Of course I will, Father.” She rested her hand on his. “You are my
family. I
“And I you, even if it doesn’t feel like it. Please remember that.”
With the clasp fastened, Ingrid turned. This type of sentiment from
her father
—the firm but fair, and also feared King Baardsen of Ravndal—was
most
unusual. “Is there a problem?” She waited, hoping he’d take her into
his
confidence.
“No.” He shook his head though there was sadness in his blue eyes.
“This
She tipped her head. His riddles weren’t making sense. A spindle of
unease
weaved its way through her thoughts, tugging into a knot that
tightened into a
fist.
“Come.” He pressed his hand onto the small of her back. “Let’s not
keep
Chapter Two
Ingrid donned her cloak again, and with her father, made her way to
the great
hall. The rain still pelted down, and in the glow of torch flames the
puddled
“I hope Thor will soon need to rest,” the king said. “We have enough
water
“Ja. It is sodden.”
The door to the great hall was opened for them and they stepped
into the flare
of warmth.
The room quieted upon the arrival of King Baardsen and all faces
turned their
way.
Ingrid stood a pace behind her father and slipped her cloak off; it
was quickly
“In honor of the gods,” her father said, holding up his arms and
beaming at
the crowd. “Let us sup good mead and feast on fine food.”
benches set at long trestle tables. They were piled high with oxen,
goat,
freely and at the head table, wine goblets had been set for the king,
his guest,
The king spun around, his attention settling on a man Ingrid didn’t
recognize.
“Bjorn, my friend.”
Bjorn’s wiry black beard twitched as he smiled, but his mouth wasn’t
visible.
His pockmarked nose was red and wide, his cheeks a similar ruddy
texture.
His eyes were thin and dark. Bushy eyebrows curly with metallic
gray hairs
were just visible beneath a mop of hair that matched his beard and
cascaded
The two men embraced. Ingrid’s father was much bigger than his
friend,
stronger and a little younger too. Bjorn was as wide as he was tall,
his limbs
short and stubby, his torso thick and round as though the gods had
modeled
him on an apple.
“It is good to see you,” the king said. “It has been many years.”
“I don’t deny that.” Bjorn looked over the king’s shoulder at Ingrid.
“I was
The king hesitated. “More of that when we have begun to sate our
hunger.
Come, take a seat with Princess Ingrid and me.” He turned and
clicked his
fingers.
A servant rushed to fill the goblets with fruity wine. At the center of
the table
a baked pig’s head, aflame and surrounded with apples and walnuts,
was set
“Ja, Father.”
To Ingrid’s surprise she was seated between her father and Bjorn.
But she
knew better than to question it. Her father ended feasts pliant and
jovial with
mead, but to begin with he had to be handled with the usual care.
Like most
his life disobeying him. Her mother—may the gods protect and
entertain her
as far as she dared without appearing rude, then taking a sip of her
warm
wine.
“And you are every bit the beauty I have been told.”
spotted Raud entering the hall. As tall as the other warriors in the
village he
towered over the servant who handed him a pale horn filled with
mead. His
blond hair was peppered with rain that glistened in the flame light,
and his
wide shoulders were draped with a leather cloak tied at his chest
with a
crisscross of lace.
As he drank, his attention settled on Ingrid.
She had a weird sense of the room slipping away, fading into the
distance.
The muggy scent of Bjorn wilted as did the chatter of her father with
a
villager standing at their table. It was as if only she and Raud were
in the
room and her heart beat all the faster with the new heady sensation
of it.
Perhaps it was time to admit her feelings for him. Raud was a fine
warrior
and seafarer, he was quick thinking, handsome, and kind. Could she
find a
man better suited to spend this life and the next with?
No.
She smiled as he drained his horn and held it out for a refill.
“You will like the south, Ingrid. Goshard is a pleasant land in the
summer
boned man and his eyes and skin clear. His beard was neat and
lately
end. He always smelled nice too, when she was near him; soap and
leather,
He walked over to the head table, his boots leaving a damp trail of
footsteps.
each other too well. Now that closeness of minds just needed to
become
A shiver went through her and a gentle tug pulled at her belly and
between
her legs. She wanted to be naked with Raud, to feel his hot skin, his
strength,
and his pleasure. And the sooner that happened the better. She
wanted to give
him sons, many beautiful warrior sons, who would one day be kings
of
Ravndal.
“Raud, it is good to see you,” the king said gruffly. “And at a perfect
time as
He stood and Raud stepped to one side, took from his drink again.
“He has traveled for many days to be here, and it gives me great
pleasure to
The words had been spoken, but they roiled around Ingrid’s mind as
though
Live forever with the stench of his breath and clothes, the sight of
his greasy
Bjorn grinned and for the first time she saw he had very few teeth
and what
“Father,” she gasped, turning back to the king. “What are you doing?
What
“But I—”
Anger and frustration warred with disbelief. How could her father be
giving
her away to a man who was old and disgusting? He’d said not long
ago how
rest of the crowd stood and cheered and held tankards aloft in
jubilation,
Raud’s cheeks stained red and his jaw tensed. He lowered his drink;
it tipped,
“We will wed in the spring.” Bjorn took Ingrid’s hand and pressed her
The scratch of his beard sent bile into her gullet and she bit back the
burn.
Every instinct in her wanted to recoil, get away, run, but she stayed
glued to
“It will be a three-day ceremony,” the king said to Bjorn. “We will
feast like
never before.”
“And then Ingrid and I will make many sons.” Bjorn’s gaze dipped to
her
breasts. “Many, many sons.” He licked his lips and leered toward her.
“And
I can’t marry this man. I can’t lie with this man. I’d rather die.
She pushed back her chair. She had to get out of there. She’d suffer
the wrath
of her father and the gods. The thought of being married to Bjorn
sickened
her. It was a fate worse than death. Worse than not being welcomed
into the
afterlife.
keeping her seated. “Smile,” he said against her ear. “Smile and get
through
this feast.”
The heat of his palms seeped onto her shoulders, down her spine,
and into her
core.
He lifted his hands and walked to a long table and where he sat with
his back
to her.
Thanks be to the gods, Raud understood her dilemma, and his fast
brain
“We will make many sacrifices to the gods, Ingrid, to garner good
luck for
our union,” Bjorn said as he chewed on a goat shin. “And when you
bear me
sons we will make more sacrifices to ensure Thor and Odin watch
out for
them in battle.”
The spittle at the corners of Bjorn’s mouth was white and frothy and
caught
Ingrid gulped her wine. There was no way she could eat a thing, not
now—
She closed her eyes. Was this what the seer had meant when he’d
said change
would never or could ever desire? Would the bloodstone help her
weather the
Bear.
A shiver went through her. ‘Beware of the bear and the wolf. ’ Was
Bjorn the
bear? And if so, who was the wolf? Her father? He favored his wolf
cloak
and there was no doubt about it, this had been a sneaky, conniving
act. He’d
her way. “It is mid-winter, you need strength and meat on your
bones.” He
nodded past her at Bjorn, who was now devouring bread and butter
as though
he’d never seen it before. “And that man there won’t want a skinny
bride.”
“Stop.” Beneath the table he squeezed her knee. “I will not hear of
it. I cannot
flash of sadness crossed his eyes but then his jaw tensed and the
sorrow was
There was no point arguing with him, not now when he had that
look. There
Chapter Three
“I know, believe me, I know, Princess.” Raud paced along the bank
of the
river, clutching the handle of his axe. It was a crisp blue-skied day
though
still bitterly cold and his boots crunched on the frosty blades of
grass.
Ingrid struck her maiden’s sword into the air then spun, battling
against an
imaginary foe.
Ever since she’d been promised to Bjorn Har her anger had boiled
inside her.
She’d reached the point she was sure her innards were on fire, hot
coals that
were burning her guts. Soon they’d simmer right through her, and
she’d be a
“He’s a revolting old man.” She sliced her blade to the right. “And I’d
rather
die than have sex with him.” She wielded it to the left, taking off the
top of a
hawthorn bush.
“It’s the truth. He’s an ugly, smelly bear. How could my father do this
to
me?” Again she twisted, taking a right cut with her sword and this
time
She lowered her sword; she was breathing hard. “Why would it?”
She hoped
Shaking her head, she dug the tip of her blade into the hard ground,
exposing
was marrying another maiden from the village. How would you
feel?”
“I wouldn’t want you to.” The words had tumbled from her mouth.
She
“And why would you not want me to?” He took a step closer, his
wide
He smiled and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Where his skin
brushed
hers a small tremor of sensation tickled over her flesh and up to her
scalp.
“Neither of us wants the other to marry someone else, don’t you see
what that
means?”
“That we should be together?” There, she’d said it. Her heart, which
she’d
always kept safe and protected, was now vulnerable, ready for the
gods and
The next thing she knew she was in Raud’s strong embrace. His face
filled
her vision and he seemed to be looking into her soul—his blue eyes
as wild
tunic.
“It has always been you and me.” He pulled her closer, so the
lengths of their
bodies touched. “The goddess Freya mapped it out for us all those
years ago
Ingrid’s heart sped up. Raud really did feel the same way she did.
But for
another man.”
“He is a bikkja.”
“Don’t let him hear you call him that. He will slice your head clean
off.”
wrapped his big fingers around the base of her skull. “Do you forget
that I am
“Raud.” She cupped his cheek. “Do not be in a hurry to be a feast for
the
ravens.”
“If it means I can save you from Bjorn Har, I will gladly make my
way to
Valhalla.”
The wind caught his hair, sending strands over his cheek. She had
never seen
“We will be together. I promise.” He lowered his head and kissed her.
All of her life, Ingrid had known the shape of Raud’s mouth, but
never
touched it; now here it was pressing against her lips, his tongue
seeking hers.
She moaned softly and opened up for him. The kiss deepened and
she
He drew her closer and she went up onto her tiptoes, curled her
hands around
the back of his neck. Delicious warmth spread through her despite
the chilly
day. A need for more was growing—more of Raud, more of his body
against
hers... in hers.
to her ass. He gripped her buttocks in the spread of his palm and
fingers,
squeezing her through her leather pants. “I do not want to wait for a
wedding
“Ja, oh, ja.” She ran her fingers into his hair, gripped it. “Now. Here.”
“Mmm.” He was kissing her again, his erection prodding through his
“Then don’t.” She reached behind herself, grabbed his wrist, and
pulled his
hand between their bodies. She shoved it between her legs. “I want
you here,
all of you.”
“You will have me.” He rubbed her through the tight material.
She groaned and closed her eyes. If that stimulation was incredible,
how
Caw. Caw.
“Naught.” She thrust her hips forward, wanting more of his touch.
Caw. Caw.
“Why would he want to watch us?” She tore open her eyes and
studied the
Nine glossy black ravens perched on the bare branches. Each had a
plumed
beard and sooty gray beak. Their eyes glinted as they tipped their
heads
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Ingrid said, fear replacing lust and her
skin
“Odin will be happy we are following our hearts.” Raud flicked his
hand at
“We both know that’s not true.” She stepped away, frustrated
because she
knew Raud believed it as well as she did but was thinking with
something
other than his mind. “We have to find a way to be together. To get
out of
“How can we do that?” He kept his arms open, as though she was
still in
“I don’t know.” She grabbed her sword handle and plucked the blade
from
“No, it can’t be.” He picked up his axe and stood at her side.
She stared at the vast fjord, its surface reflecting the sky and a flock
of geese
small and distant. Even smaller, on the beach to the boats left, were
warriors
practicing for battle. They held shields and spun and splashed in the
shallows
Raud was quiet for a moment, then, “Ja, they are not our villager
neighbors,
that I know.”
next to them, they would not be small at all. “They are journeying to
England, my father said, there has been much talk of fertile land and
rich
pickings from the Christians. Perhaps they will stay for a long time.
The
entire summer.”
“Ja.” He’d said it slowly, as though his mind was also working, as
though he
takes to the tide as soon as Aegir rests and the sea is passable.”
“Ja, he will go in the spring,” she said.
the sun, flourishing, becoming real... “Can we?” she asked. “Could
we?”
She reached for his hand, squeezed his fingers. “Ja, we can, Raud.”
A twist
“Raud?”
Again he took a lock of her hair in his hand. “You are going to make
a
beautiful boy.”
“Boy?”
He smiled a little sadly. “If we are to make it west, start a new life
together,
Another random document with
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Ja kun tulija meni hänen luoksensa, kääntyi hän toisaalle, tehden
vähäisen, uhkamielisen liikkeen.
Vaikka hän olikin nuori, oli hän jo useita kertoja ennenkin leikitellyt
rakkaudella. Tänä aamuna hän oli arvellut leikkiä sillä jälleen, mutta
kohtalo oli tehnyt hänelle kepposen. Sillä nyt tytön läheinen kosketus
herätti hänet tuntemaan, että hänen sydämessään oli virinnyt
syvällisempi ja väkevämpi tunne kuin hän oli milloinkaan kokenut.
»Olen sellainen mies, joka rakastaa sinua. Eikö siinä ole kylliksi, oi
sinä uteliaisuuden tytär?»
Hän muisti nimensä. Hän oli Ahmed ben Hassan — ja joku oli
sanonut hänen isäänsä pahaksihengeksi. Mutta se oli typerää pilaa.
Sillä jos se olisi totta, niin miten olisi 'pikku äiti' — jonka hän varmasti
tiesi enkeliksi — olisi ikinä voinut mennä naimisiin hänen
kanssansa? Mutta sittenkin: kuka oli 'pikku äiti' — ja kuka totisesti oli
Ahmed ben Hassan?
Tunnin tai parin kuluttua hän heräsi jälleen, tällä kertaa täysin
tajuissansa.
Jos maurilainen olisi ollut yksin, olisi hän jossakin määrin saattanut
käsittää, minkä tähden hänen kimppuunsa oli karattu. Mutta
kolmikosta näytti maurilaisen mielenkiinto olevan laimein. Molemmat
muukalaiset näyttivät pitävän asiata tärkeämpänä.
Jasmin, jota hän oli rakastanut — rakastanut sillä tavoin, ettei hän,
siitä hän oli varma, enää ikinä rakastaisi ketään siten — Jasmin, jota
hän oli sen rakkauden tähden säästänyt, Jasmin oli hänet pettänyt!