Page 60 of Vicar
Chapter Twenty-Four
VICAR HAD FELT hisSigdir side struggling to surface from the moment he repressed it. From the second he shifted in the Múspellsheimr chamber at the Keep determined to slay a memory until this very moment with Trinity at his mercy beneath him. Luscious and gorgeous and as wet for him as she’d ever been for his Sigdir half.
The Alfheim leaves that he’d consumed had made it nearly impossible not to take her. Especially when she lay beneath his dragon, so prone and vulnerable. He could have yanked her inner dragon to the surface. He knew it like he knew all the different ways she liked to be tied up. Chained down. Taken until she cried in pleasure.
It might have only been one night, but he knew her. Wanted her. Craved her again so much that when she cupped his cheeks and pleaded for him to wait, to fight the incoming warriors, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her. No stubbornness of his own that would deny her.
It seemed—dominant disposition or not—she held all the power.
So said the warmth that spread through him at her touch. The ebbing of lust that had moments before made it nearly impossible to think. Her dragon eyes flickered all the spectrums of the Alfheim cave, her magic not abhorrent as it should have been, but gentle and coaxing, leading him back to clear thinking.
Back to what charged out of the tree line moments later.
Thanks to Trinity’s Alfheim magic, he was able to break free not from his Múspellsheimr half but from his sensual stupor moments before the first line hit them. Roaring with rage, he leapt to his feet, shoved her behind him, and started whipping daggers in rapid succession. One, two, three, five, seven warriors fell to their knees before he withdrew his axe and shield and ordered her to stay behind him.
“No.” While Trinity sounded like her softer side, there was no mistaking the glimmer of battle lust in her gaze when she manifested an axe and sword out of thin air and joined him. She looked his way and nodded, still her...but not. “You didn’t just teach me Norse, Vicar.”
Equal parts intrigued, aroused, and, shockingly enough, worried for her, he nodded, eager to see what she could do while at the same time dreading it. Fearing her being put in harm’s way.
That’s when he realized.
He had without a shred of doubt fallen into the same trap as his kin. He had come to care for her. Could not imagine her getting hurt. Loathed her being put in any kind of danger. Did that mean forever with her? No. But it meant something.
“Yet I’ve got to put myself in danger,” she replied, her focus where it should be. She whipped her axe and lobbed off an opponent’s sword arm, then glanced at their kin battling vicious storm clouds. “We all do until this war is over.”
Vicar nodded, impressed by her aim. He remembered teaching her that. Recalled so much as they raced into the fray together.
“Back to back,” his younger self said as a memory manifested nearby. “When you’re outnumbered, the best way to fight so many is back to back.”
Falling into sync beside their younger selves who were merely training, Vicar and Trinity went back to back and fought in a way he’d never quite fought with a woman. Mainly because they didn’t have the talent that came so naturally to her.
“I don’t think I could ever kill anyone,” young Trinity said, shaking her head as older Trinity whipped a dagger into a warrior’s windpipe. “It’s just not in me.”
“Maybe not you,” young Vicar said as big Vicar ran his sword across the guts of three men. “But perhaps your other side.”
“I don’t like her, though,” young Trinity complained before the memory faded. “Not really.”
