I growl low in my throat. "Woman, you know damn well what I mean."
"What's really bothering you?" Her fingers trail up my chest, deceptively gentle. "Pissed that I left you high and dry last night or that you're keeping secrets from me?"
Christ, this fucking woman. My cock throbs against the confines of my leathers, her defiance only stoking the flames. "I'm not keeping secrets fromyou," I grit out, my nose brushing hers. "It's Erik's shit to deal with, not mine to spill." The words come out rougher than intended, breathing in her frustrated arousal.
Her fingers fist in my tunic, yanking me even closer. "Secrets are secrets, Rhyland." Her honey-gold eyes flash with anger and something darker. "You promised—wepromised—no more of that shit. Erik isn't just your brother anymore. He's my family, too. I wish you'd get that through your thick arrogant skull."
The hurt in her voice cuts deeper than any blade. I press my forehead to hers, breathing in her scent like it's the only air I need. "I do. I get it, baby. But I also know my brother. He's not ready to face this, and pushing him will only make it worse."
She sighs, her breath mingling with mine. "Since when are you the level-headed one?"
A chuckle rumbles through my chest. "Since you decided to be a stubborn ass about this."
Shepinches my side hard enough to make me grunt, her eyes, like freshly harvested honey dripping from the comb blaze with challenge. "Fine. While you boys keep your little secret club going, let's stay focused on the mission." Her lips curve into a dangerous smile. "Can't let ourselves get distracted by... basic instincts. Or desires."
No fucking way. She can't be serious.
I grind my leather-clad cock against her stomach, making damn sure she feels exactly what she's threatening to deny. "Not happening, Angel. You're not putting me on ice because my brother has his head up his ass."
She arches against me, her body a sinful curve of heat and temptation. "Oh, I'm sorry," she purrs, her lips brushing the shell of my ear. "Did you think you had a choice in the matter?"
A shudder rips through me, my control fraying at the edges. "Dani, I swear to God, if you cut me off—"
She nips at my earlobe, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin. "You'll what? Throw a tantrum?"
I tangle my hand in her hair, tugging just hard enough to bare her throat. "More like remind you why denying me is a very,verybad idea, Little Angel."
Her fingers trail down my chest, teasing, and she rolls her hips against mine, the friction making my vision blur. "Maybe some solidarity with your suffering brother would do you good."
I capture her wandering hands, pinning them above her head. "Listen here, you beautiful little minx," I growl against her lips. "I'm not Erik. I don't do sexual frustration as a lifestyle choice."
"—Ahem—"
I jerk back from Dani like I've been electrocuted. A whole damn audience of Valkyries is staring at us, their expressions ranging from amused to murderous.
"Oh, don't let us interrupt," a blonde warrior drawls. "It's not like this is a sacred training ground or anything. Please, continue dry humping against our walls."
Fuck me. Nothing kills a hard-on faster than getting caught by a bunch of divine warrior women who could probably castrate me with their minds.
I grab Dani's hand, trying to salvage what's left of our dignity—not that I had much to begin with. She's fighting back a laugh, the little minx clearly enjoying my discomfort. We make our way back to the compound's center, where I spot Baldr's golden ass approaching with Heimdall and Bryn in tow.
"Rhyland." Heimdall's voice booms, his massive frame decked out in armor that makes my leather getup look like peasant rags. Golden bastard probably polishes that shit in his sleep.
I give him a curt nod because what else do you say to an all-seeing god who probably watched me almost bang my mate against a wall five minutes ago?
"Well then!" Baldr chirps like we're planning a fucking picnic, not a potentially lethal quest. "I'll take our friend here on Sleipnir—" He gestures to Heimdall. "—and you three can cozy up on Gullfax. As for our fierce Valkyrie..."
Bryn's smirk could cut glass as she straps her sword across her back with practiced ease. The shield slides onto her forearm like it was forged to be there. "Aye, while you lot play Pony Express, I'll take the warrior's path. Meet you at Valhalla's Veil in three hours—if you can keep up." She throws a challenging look our way, every inch the Norse warrior princess with an attitude that could make Thor himself think twice.
Dani's eyes scan the courtyard, her brow furrowing. "Where's Erik?"
For fuck's sake. I can feel a headache building behind my eyes. Through the longhouse's open door, I spot my brother's silver head bent over what has to be his tenth horn of mead.
"I'll get him," I grunt, already stomping across the frozen ground.
The longhouse door slams against the wall as I storm inside, reeking of smoke and alcohol. Erik slouches over the table like it's the only thing keeping him upright. His silver hair's a mess, and Grave Warden lies forgotten beside him like a jilted lover.
I grab a fistful of his tunic, yanking him up with enough force to make the bench scrape against the floor. The sword goes into his hands whether he wants it or not. "Move your ass, brother. We've got a stone to find, and your pity party's over."
