Grinning, he nodded sheepishly. “Stupid, I know, but yes. Yes, I did. I couldn’t think with your voice pounding in my head. That was the quickest way I could get off the island and start after you. Our islands only have one airport, not that I have a passport anyway.”
His brown eyes warmed me like a hug. I closed my fingers over his hands restlessly tearing at his hat. He stilled immediately, eyes locked to mine.
I tipped my head slightly, turning my attention inward to the wellspring of Hel’s power that flowed through me. Waters bubbled up inside me, eager to be used. I didn’t sense any warning from the goddess at all. Where Lokken had been a frosty blue ice, I sensed something more like fur with Gunnarr, though what manner of beast, I wasn’t sure yet.
Lifting his hand toward my mouth, I hesitated when he made a choked sound, lifting my gaze to his. “Oh. Should I have asked first?”
“No, not at all, Your Majesty,” he babbled. “Goddess, I’m an idiot. I’m sorry. Do as you will. I just always thought queens preferred their Bloods’ throats…?”
I huffed out a laugh. “I do. But yours is rather covered up at the moment.”
His eyes flared wide, and then he started to jerk and shrug out of the heavy fur coat.
Myrk shared a disgusted look with Svar.:Another reason not to wear human clothing.:
Gunnarr’s coat dropped to the floor. Underneath, he wore a red-and-black plaid long-sleeved shirt. It was already open at the throat, but evidently not open enough. He ripped the shirt open to his waist, sending buttons flying.
His upper body was broad with a deep, barreled chest and muscular arms. Thick chest hair tickled my face as I leaned closer to inhale his scent. His hands came up toward me, but floated around my head like restless, frantic birds, not sure where to land, or if his touch would be welcome.
“I never thought this would happen to me,” he whispered reverently. “A queen of my very own. Impossible. Queens don’t Call men like me. I’m not a trained warrior, or educated, or eloquent. I don’t have much to offer. Even my House is practically non-existent, our queen’s line nearly gone. I’ve got nothing to offer you, but?—”
“Gunnarr,” I interrupted, rubbing my nose faintly back and forth against his skin.
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
He reminded me of a giant bear. Furry on the outside, maybe even soft and cuddly. With the kind of strength that could rip off the head of his prey without even thinking about it.
“Please, just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. I swear it. Goddess?—”
“Shut up,” my other four Blood growled in unison, making me smile against his skin.
I sank my fangs into his throat and filled my mouth with his blood. Thick fur against the bitter cold, with the kind of muscled strength and determination that would send a polar bear swimming across the ocean. His beast rippled inside him, exploding outward with the same eager haste as the man, desperate to be of use.
Lifting my head, I gazed up—way up—at a giant polar bear reared up on its hind legs. Giant black paws clawed at the air as he let out a triumphant roar. Then he wrapped those powerful legs around me and squeezed me tightly against his chest. Enveloping me in luxurious white fur, thick with the salty tang of the ocean.
Myrk snorted. “Let’s hope he doesn’t come so quickly in your bed, my queen.”
In Gunnarr’s fledgling bond, I sensed bashful exuberance, as if he was a little embarrassed at how quickly he’d embraced his beast, but also too delighted to care. I lifted my wrist to his mouth. “I’d give you my throat, but in this form, I think my wrist might be easier for you. I trust you, but I’d rather not have my head in your mouth.”
Indeed, he carefully wrapped those crushing jaws around my entire forearm, though he bit down with delicate care.
“At least in this form, he’s forced to stop talking,” Lokken said.
:Not for long,:Gunnarr said in my head.:This is incredible, Your Majesty. You are incredible. I can’t possibly thank you enough.:
:Thank you for answering my Call.:
His rough tongue licked over my skin and then he released my wrist. Backing up, he dropped to all fours, though I could still lean my head against his massive shoulder and hug his neck. I stroked my fingers through his fur, marveling at how soft he was.
:What’s for dinner?:
At least I’d never have to worry about my dark alfar starving because they weren’t familiar with human food. Laughing, I lifted my head and found Clara. “He wants to know what’s for dinner.”
Her mouth quirked and she lifted the phone back to ear. “We have a plus-one for dinner, Pàtair, and by the looks of him, I sure hope you cooked enough for an army.”
3
HELAYNA
