Bjorn cast his gaze around the great hall. The feast had begun, but Bonnie had yet to arrive. He'd visited her keep earlier to no avail. She wasn't there. No one knew where she was, and this worried him to no end. What if some horrible fate had befell her while he spent nearly half the day imagining doing her harm? How would he ever live with himself? Better yet, how would he ever live without her?
The door to the great hall opened. Shock halted his steps when his mother and Astrid walked through the door. Especially Astrid! She looked so attractive dressed as a woman should. "Mother, and Astrid! What are you doing here?"
"Did you think I'd allow my son to sail away to meet his fate without bidding him a farewell?" His mother smiled up at him as he pulled her into an embrace.
His gaze swept to Astrid over his mother's shoulder. "Well, I'm glad you've come. Please, enjoy the feast." He released his mother, and then moved to position himself next to her favored shieldmaiden. "You look beautiful this eve, Astrid. This attire suits you well."
She cut her eyes at him, which he'd never noticed was a matching hue of the Fjord. "Thank you, Bjorn."
The great hall door opened again, pilfering his attention away from Astrid. King Harald, Halfdan, and their warriors entered. "Halfdan, King Harald." He clasped each of their forearms. "How fare your rest? I trust your lodgings afforded you both comfort."
Halfdan and King Harald exchanged glances. The Black gave a slight shake of the head. Anger darkened King Harald's expression. His eyes narrowed as he lifted his chin. "We must speak."
"Of course," Bjorn said, guiding him over to the great table where his brothers and Queen Aslaug sat.
"Earlier, my brother and I went exploring in the forest," King Harald began, barely offering Aslaug a nod.
"You didn't rest?" Bjorn questioned, slightly offended. They prepared this feast for him, and now he'd be too exhausted from his journey to partake in the revelry. How wasteful to Kattegat's stores!
"No, as I said, we went exploring in the forest," King Harald growled, agitation clear and present in his tone.
"Harald," Halfdan interjected.
"I don't understand. Why would you want to explore the forest after such a long journey?" Bjorn questioned, attempting to make sense of the senseless.
King Harald's eyes rolled as an exhale left his mouth long in its leave. "That matters not! What matters is while out in the forest I came across an insolent slave girl."
"Harald over exaggerates. The girl was not insolent…over much," Halfdan said coming to the girl's defense.
Bjorn gave his head a mental shake. It must've been the deranged slave Margrethe attempting to flee Kattegat after her change in stations. "What was this slave girl's offense? Did she try to deceive you into drinking her woman's blood?"
Halfdan and King Harald stared at him as if he'd just told them he was Fenrir the demon wolf. King Harald, the first to recover, shook his head. "N-no, she said I looked like," he cleared his throat and cast his gaze about, only to discover he had his brothers and Aslaug attention. He cleared his throat and attempt to lower his voice. "She said I looked like a tattered treasured dwarf."
Aslaug released an uncharacteristic snort. "What?"
"That's not what she said," Halfdan stated with his gaze trained on the floor.
King Harald puffed up. "I know what she said. I heard as I hear you now and she said that word for word."
"She did not!" Halfdan's glare shot up to capture his brother's. "She said you looked like a tatted up treasure troll and that was only after you said her skin looked as if she'd been kicked into the sun, and her hair appeared to be a product of Thor's anger."
Aslaug gasped. Sigurd rose, while placing the hand on the hilt of his sword. Ivar's battle ax made a loud clank as he dropped it on the great table. Ubbe's and Hvitserk's expression changed from one of cheer to predacious in nature. A knotted up sickness took root deep in his gut. For he knew to what supposed slave girl King Harald referred.
"King Harald, you remember my stepmother Queen Aslaug," he said, giving the king a hard shove over to Aslaug who seamlessly engaged Harald without a misstep. Once King Harald was momentarily distracted he looked to Sigurd. "Locate Bonnie and tell her to come now are I'll happily come collect her by force."
Sigurd gave him a hard stare but nodded and marched off to do his bidding.
"Sigurd, oi!"
Sigurd slowed in his march to Bonnie's when he heard his name being called from the shadows between two lodgings. Pulling his ax from his belt, he crept over to the darkened pathway. As soon as he lingered on the threshold of light and dark, Margrethe stepped from the blackness. His grip tightened on his ax. An awful dung stench greeted him, before her lips had a chance to split.
He placed the back of his hand over his mouth and nose, stepping out of her grasp when she tried to reach for him. "For the love of Odin's eye Margrethe! Have you been rolling around in the horses' muck instead of shoveling it?"
"You have to help me, Sigurd!" She peered over her shoulder as if she were being followed. "Did he see you leave?"
Gods! He had no moments to spare for this. "Who?"
"Ivar!" Margrethe snapped as terror mingled with the tears in her eyes. "He's going to kill me."
Now he was thoroughly confused. "Why does he want to kill you? Did you refuse to wash yourself before laying with him? I've told you before, Margrethe. Not all are like Ubbe and Hvitserk. Some men prefer their woman's muff to be bare and have the scent of-,"
"That's not the reason he wants to kill me," she sobbed, her shoulders shaking from the force of her cries.
He exhaled, knowing he'd already lingered too long with her. "Then speak woman. I have no time for delays." That eve may very well be the eve he'd have to slaughter a king.
"He wants to kill me for what I almost revealed to you and your brothers," she lowered her voice and glanced around once more. "About him being unable to satisfy a woman."
"What?" He questioned, sure he'd misheard.
"It's true, his prick wouldn't work. Had it not been for the gods he would've killed me the night you and your brothers brought him to me," Margrethe said, attempting to grab his hand again, which he easily avoided. "Sigurd, please don't spurn me. You have to protect me."
In a single swift move he placed the blade of the ax he held to her neck. He then backed her into one of the walls. She whimpered. "I don't have to do anything, Margrethe. You are not my responsibility. If you're searching for a champion, then you need gaze no further than Ubbe and Hvitserk. The blade of my sword is already spoken for. Do not approach me again."
Bonnie had just finished wrapping the cloak of her dress around her when she heard a knock at the door. Her sorcery had only completed her hair minutes before, and she was late. Bjorn was gonna kill her. Even Sigurd wouldn't be able to save her from the rage of that Viking. She answered the door. Sigurd stood on the other side with his fist raised about to knock again. When he saw her, his mouth fell open. She wore her hair pulled around to the side in loose wavy curls. A thick gold jewel encrusted side laurel held it in place.
This was the first time she'd veered from her natural curl pattern, but the Gold Grecian Goddess dress she wore called for something different. The Zuhair Murad masterpiece fit her like a second layer of skin, and thanks to the beautiful but fragile hand embroidered tulle you could see most of it. Yet, the mantilla which shined from the faded golden silk snatched the entire show. She felt divine when she'd only just become eternal.
"Well, what'd you think, Sigurd? Am I doing too much?" She questioned, not daring to unwrap the cloak to give him the full effect of the dress.
"Uh, w-well-," he cleared his throat.
"Perfect! Let's go," She said, brushing pass him on her way out.
Several minutes later they stood just outside the doors of the great hall. She could hear King Harald lead the revelers in a toast. The raspy edge of his voice raked over her nerves. Ooh, she loathed that man! She lifted her hands and aloud her sorcery to burst open the doors. When Sigurd and she strolled in, every eye fell upon them. She allowed her gaze to sweep the hall. There were many faces she didn't recognize, while others she knew well enough to think of as family.
Bonnie caught sight of Bjorn leading Astrid towards the queen's quarters. Her forehead wrinkled. That situation appeared to be starting earlier than canon. Ivar sat across the room at the great table. He attempted to burn her alive with his methane blaze of a stare. Ubbe stood, then sat, then stood again. He looked as if he were debating with himself on whether to come over. She hoped common sense won out and he stayed his ass far away from her. Hvitserk, however, stared at her with a sad but tortured longing, she felt no obligation to ease. She was done with those two, whether they chose to side with her or not. Hell it wouldn't be the first time she went up against an all-star team with a squad that was the equivalent of the Bad News Bears.
She swung her gaze away from the Lothbrok brothers to Halfdan who stood with his brother King Harald the Dick. Harald was just completing his bluster of a toast when his eyes met hers. The curved horn he held mid raise, slipped from his hand. Halfdan who noticed his brother's reaction, turned to locate the cause. When his whiskey brown gaze landed on her genuine joy flooded his features. His response not only pleased her, but it also soothed her fucked over pride. The unadulterated pleasure she felt manifested into a genuine smile which settled itself upon her lips. All too soon though, she lost sight of him as the people of Kattegat began to vie her attention and favor.
Floki appeared next to her. He ran interference with the revelers determined to interact with their Goddess. "Is there peril in removing your cloak?" He questioned giving her an affectionate side hug.
"It unwraps," she said, distracted by all the unfamiliar faces which gawked at her from various positions around the hall.
Slowly, she spun to assist Floki in undoing the one shoulder cape. Once the sea of gold flowed down her back, the provocative merger between sheer tulle and gilded silk revealed itself. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the hall.
"Bonnie!" Floki scolded, disapproval threaded within his tone. "Will it harm you to don era appropriate fashion?"
"Floki is wise in many things yet this isn't one of them. For you are beautiful as always, Bonnie," Helga said stepping around Floki to give her a hug.
"Thank you, Helga," Bonnie smiled at the sweet natured blonde who'd probably be a hippie in another life. "You look lovely as well. My mentor is blessed to have one such as you who's willing to stay at his side."
Helga beamed as she glanced up and offered Floki a closed lip smile. "No, it is I who is blessed. Floki is the love which fills my heart. Without him, each beat would be meaningless."
"One day I wish to have what you two share," she said, darting her gaze between the both of them.
"Bonnie," Torvi's voice floated from behind her. She turned, before she could have a good look at her the pale blonde was in her arms. "I've missed you during my time away. Now I'm back, I'll be losing you in a few risings time to the Mediterranean. I believe I shall remain inconsolable until your return."
Bonnie leaned back to meet her gaze. She saw a sliver of sadness glimmer in the depths of Torvi's eyes. Her friend wasn't doing well, and her pain had nothing to do with their lack of contact. Something was amiss. "Torvi, I sense something is-,"
"Bonnie, come," Queen Aslaug, entwined her arms with Bonnie and guided her toward the elevated podium where a single throne sat. "I've had a seat placed here so you may greet all of those under your dominion without becoming overwhelmed." Her voice sounded as strained as the smile on her face.
"You've heard the words we spoke of," Bonnie stated, knowing by now Lagertha would've made her intentions known in the form of deceptively nonthreatening words.
The queen nodded once. "We're to make a sacrifice the eve on the morrow. We'll slaughter a pig so you all may receive favor from the god during your voyage." She held Bonnie's cape out of the way as she assisted on the throne. "I'd also like to make an offer to my Most High and in turn receive her favor."
"You already have the favor of your Supreme, Queen Aslaug," Bonnie said, reaching out to take her hand. The tremble in the queen's hands provoked a liquid salty burn to sting her tear ducts. Aslaug was afraid, yet despite her fear she was still determined to see her decision through to its conclusion. "More so, you've earned my loyalty and love."
Queen Aslaug bowed to her, and then placed a kiss on her hand. The Queen then turned to address the festers who'd begun to gather around the throne. "Many of you already have come to know our sacred guest, Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls. Some of you may even sense a connection to her you're unable to explain." A few murmurs of agreement swept through the crowd.
At this point Bjorn reentered the hall with a pleased expression on his face. A very guilty rumpled looking Astrid followed. Disgust bloomed in the center of Bonnie's gut. Well wasn't this some Fernand Mondego type shit! Her sworn protector fucking her literal assassin. When he realized the festers had congregated to one place he glanced in her direction. Upon sighting her, his eyes and bottom lip nearly met the wooden planked floor. Her glare narrowed. Bjorn Ironside the womanizer had finally revealed himself.
Bonnie swung her gaze to Torvi who too also watched Bjorn. Indifference owned her features. Yet it did nothing to disguise the flood rising in her eyes. Nor did it obscure the slight tremble of her bottom lip. Though she faked disregard over her husband's wandering affections, his actions were clearly tearing her heart to shreds one indiscretion at a time. Goddess, she'd almost fed into Bjorn's vacation cheat fest. She gave her head a mental shake. Never a-fucking-gin!
Bjorn claimed the vacant place next to Sigurd. They were positioned off to the side, but still in close proximity of where Bonnie sat on a throne. "What is happening?"
"I know not," Sigurd said with a rise and fall of his shoulders, "My mother had a few whispered words with Bonnie, and then she turned to attend the hall." His younger brother peered at him from the cut of his eye. "If you care for Bonnie as you claim, then why would you make a bed mate of her enemy?"
"Her enemy?" He questioned. Sigurd cast a meaningful glance at Astrid who had now rejoined his mother's side. "Astrid?"
"She would never dishonor you or your vow in such a way. Perhaps, you're no better than Ubbe. Perhaps, you're only a man who's summers have honed him in the art of deception and taught him the value of discretion," Sigurd cast his gaze back toward the throne. "She's too good for you. She's too good for you all."
Bjorn's back teeth clenched. "That includes you as well, little brother."
"Oh, I'm more than aware," he said, amusement lingering in his tone. "And that's the difference between you and me. For you still have yet to conceive that such a thought could hold true for you."
"Why's Astrid Bonnie's enemy?" Bjorn clasped his hands behind his back.
"Brother, I suggest you have that conversation with Bonnie, or better yet your mother," Sigurd said.
A sense of foreboding stalked his peace of mind. Sigurd's words disturbed him beyond his barrier of comfort. What would his mother be able to tell him of the animosity brewing between Bonnie and Astrid? His gaze moved over Bonnie. Gods she made his existence spin like no other! Everything about her rivaled why perfection should be renamed Bonnie. For she was the living breathing manifestation for the very definition of the word.
"I'm not speaking to the guests of Kattegat. Though, they too are welcomed if proven faithful," Queen Aslaug droned on. Her voice no more than a hum of persistent noise to him.
"Look at them," Harald's disbelieving glare traveled over the intrigued citizens and visitors of Kattegat, "how they worship her. They all believe her to be more than she truly is."
Halfdan barely spared his brother a glance. For he'd been unable to tear his stare away from the woman he now knew to be Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls. She'd held his attention captive since the moment she arrived. And although Harald would never admit it, he too was enthralled by the sheer force of her presence. From the strange but alluring fashion of her dress to the golden bronze glow which adorned her skin, every bit of her made him ache with an unfamiliar need he'd never felt for a woman or the stray man who'd found themselves face down in his bed.
"Can you not sense she is more?" He asked, attempting to discern what exact shade of green the pigment of her eyes were. "Can you not feel the power of the gods in the air?"
"Brother, your lust leads you to believe in the absurd. She's just a woman. Like any other woman here. Besides, she's a foreigner. Our gods are not hers." Harald waved for their seer to come join them.
The oracle appeared reluctant to relinquish his place near the throne, yet he shuffled through the horde to join his brother.
"Asta, Godric, and Toke, come," Queen Aslaug said, beckoning to servants who lingered at the edge of the hall.
"Queen Aslaug, this is unnecessary," Bonnie began, the smile on her face strained.
"Most High," the queen bowed before her once more, and this set off a collection of sharp intakes of breaths, gasps, and whispers. "If you will allow me to continue, then the necessity for all of this will soon be revealed."
Agitation presented itself in her delicate features yet she nodded. "Of course."
"Asta retell what took place here two eves ago during second meal," the queen demanded as her gaze drifted over the festers.
"What do you think of the blasphemy taking place within these walls?" Harald questioned when the seer stood among them.
The seer cast a fearful glance back towards the throne as if Bonnie could've heard Harald. "I'm not certain what is taking place within these walls, but I suggest we cease in speaking without care until we do," he said before giving his attention over to the serving girl who was spinning a fanciful saga of a mad slave, a screeching mandrake root, woman's blood, poisoned ale and a love potion.
"Did she just say it had the stench of rotted fish and decayed flower petals?" Someone to the left of them muttered between wretches.
They listened for a moment longer, and then Harald snapped his fingers as excitement livened his face. "And there you see, the serving girl just confirmed my suspicions! Now we have the right of it! The thrall confessed this foreign woman is the one who forced her to poison the ale and she stole her witchery for professing the plot to Queen Aslaug."
"King Harald, there is only one sovereign entity who can call for a witches magic, and then renounce her place in the supernatural procession along with her future descendants," There seer explained as the color drained from his face. "And it is not a mere witch, warlock, mage, god, or goddess. Only the Supreme, the Most High, the Mother of super nature has that manner of authority. Hmm, and the poor fools of Kattegat calls her Goddess." The seer laughed. "Now that, King Harald, is Blasphemy. Please excuse me. I must offer my sight and allegiance to my Supreme."
Harald and he exchanged looks, before moving closer to the elevated platform.
"Lagertha!" Astrid wheezed, after the serving girl concluded her tale. "What goddess has the power to alter someone else's fate? What if she denies me entrance to Valhalla, in favor of dispatching me to Helheim?"
"Shh," Lagertha face scrunched as she raised her hand to beckon her into silence.
"Godric and Toke, can you confirm what Asta speaks?" Queen Aslaug questioned, not bothering to meet the gazes of either of the men.
The shorter more robust man head bobbed. "I swear it upon my sacred arm ring, Queen Aslaug. Asta speaks without deceptions or untruths tainting her words."
"And you, Godric?" Queen Aslaug moved across the stage.
"I swear it upon my right to dwell within the halls of Valhalla," The taller man said in a quieter voice which lent strength to his words. Gasps was met with such an admission.
"The morrow's eve there will be a sacrifice to aid King Harald and Bjorn in their journey to the Mediterranean Sea. Yet, while we are making a sacrifices to our Njord and the All Father" Queen Aslaug paused to meet many of their gazes before continuing, "who among you will make an offer to our Most High by bleeding for her and in turn receiving her favor? This eve you must decide. Venture forth by faith alone. For if you volunteer and are chosen, you'll be marked forever more as her trusted. So, for those who want to make an offer to the Most High come forth and kneel."
Bonnie could've strangled Queen Aslaug for putting her on blast with so many non-Kattegat citizens in attendance that eve. What if those people got in their mind to burn both of their asses as witches? Only one of them was coming back. The crowd before her parted. Sigurd stepped up. He was about to take a knee, but Guthrum and Hali rushed forward. Both beating him to doing so. The revelers laughed.
Bonnie grinned and snapped her fingers, "Yo, Jedi and Yoda," she held out her hands to them. "Come sit with me."
They both climbed to their feet. Guthrum sulkily so, "We want to bleed for you too, Bonsie!"
"Not until you have more summers behind you than before you," she said pulling them both on her lap, and then kissing each of their cheeks.
When she looked up, Sigurd had finally made it to his knee. His sword driven deep in to the plank floor next to him. To her surprise, Ansel kneeled next to him. She didn't even know he'd come to the feast. Halfdan was next to join the procession, and then a stranger with a haircut like Floki's. Yet nothing could've stunned her more when Lagertha kneeled. Only to be followed by Astrid, Blida, and Hilda. Then Ubbe, Hvitserk, Ivar, Torvi and Queen Aslaug. After that, most of the volunteers were citizens of Kattegat.
When the time came for her choose the most loyal among the bunch to bleed, she looked to Floki. "I'd like my sage and his wife to join me on the platform, please."
Floki's eyes flared in surprise. He then released one of his high pitch giggles. After he and Helga joined her she descended the steps of the platform. The first kneeling body she halted in front of was Sigurd. A smiled curved her lips. Her enforcer/confessor.
She palmed his cheek until he stared up at her with so much fire blazing in his eyes, she was shocked her dress wasn't a pile of ashes. "Will you do the honors, My Devoted Savage?"
She lifted the pad of her thumb until it was eye level with him. Without removing his gaze from her, he yanked a dagger from his trousers. He then cut a jagged line down the length of her thumb. The sight of her metallic candy apple red blood, with shimmering iridescent golden threads interwoven throughout the thick liquid, motivated several more of Harald's men to join the kneeling procession. Mentally rolling her eyes, she whispered a spell into the cut to keep the wound open, before pressing a kiss to the pad of her thumb.
Once the wound was spelled and blessed, she swiped her bloody digit over Sigurd's right brow. Leaning down, she placed a lingering kiss on his lips. Slowly, she pulled away. His eyes opened, and his irises flashed solid gold for several seconds before returning to their normal sapphire hue. She then turned to mark the forehead's of Floki, Helga, Guthrum, and Hali. Though, neither of them would be making an offering, she still considered them her trusted.
Next she stopped at Ansel. The mystical energy wafting from him communed well with hers. She sensed there was nothing he wouldn't do to protect and defend her. Without further deliberation, she swiped her thumb over his right brow. Her sorcery compelled her to press a kiss to his lips.
When she attempted to pull away, he whispered, "we must speak."
"I'm aware. Meet me at Ayanna's on the morrow after first meal," she said, before moving on.
Halfdan stared up at her with eyes that damn near penetrated the center of her brain. The wild sorcery wafting off of him was chaotic and vicious in nature. Yet consistently loyal and constant without fault. Oh what a beautiful puzzle he made. She reached down and palmed the side of his face before swiping her thumb over his right brow. Like with Sigurd, her sorcery compelled her to kiss him. She placed her mouth on his. Inhaling, she prepared herself for only a brisk exchange. To say Halfdan ran her more oral play than she bargained for would've been severely fraudulent in its understating. Once he had possession of her lips, his tongue made quick work of invading her mouth. Visions of her riding him in slow motion tagged the walls of her mind like live graffiti art.
"Halfdan!" A scandalized voice chastised from next to them.
Halfdan tore his mouth away from hers to suck in huge gulps of air, while she bit her bottom lip to desensitize the vision of that porn hot kiss.
When she tried to rise to move on, he grabbed her wrist to hold her in place. She cocked a brow in question. "Will it happen this eve?"
Too shook to flirt and play dumb, she shook her head. "N-no."
"When?" His whiskey browns bore into her.
"S-soon," she said, but when his grip on her wrist didn't loosened she continued, "While in the Mediterranean…I think."
Satisfied he released her, and she moved on to Lagertha. It didn't surprise her when she discovered the Earl's sorcery to be honorable. With pride, she happily ran her thumb over the former shieldmaiden's right brow. Astrid came next, her magic didn't even direct her to pause. Everything about Lagertha's pet repelled her at the moment. Hopefully, when she did some more living, she'd outgrow all the parts of herself which made her selfish, entitled, and untrustworthy. Look how phenomenal her best friend Caroline turned out.
Barely stopping, she marked Blida and Hilda, before quickly pecking each of their lips. After them, Ubbe and Hvitserk was next in the procession. She wanted nothing more than to walk right pass them, but her sorcery refused to permit her. So, she stopped and glared down at them. The anger in Ubbe's eyes popped her neck and snatched her head back.
"I have not betrayed you, and even when it appeared to have been so, it has since been revealed as a plot by a mad thrall to coerce my affections with a love spell," he rose and so did Hvitserk. "You gave me your word two risings passed, you'd marry me if I forgave my father. And for you, I forgave my father, Ragnar Lothbrok! A truth which the people of Kattegat can attest. So, my bewitching Valkyrie, will you honor your word and become my wife once you return from the Mediterranean Sea?"
The manipulative bastard! He waited until they were in front of damn near every tongue wagging tea sipper in Kattegat to pull some mess like this on her. He knew damn well how he and Hvitserk tried the hell out of her. Though their trying of her couldn't technically be considered as a betrayal. Disrespectful? Hell to the yeah, but betrayal? A mental sigh…not so much.
"I'd never break my word," she forced through the slitted teeth of a frozen smile. "If you don't betray me by the time I return from the Mediterranean then I'll marry you."
"And," A grin dimpled his cheek as he place his mouth next to her ear to whisper, "you'll allow Hvitserk to join us on our marriage night, and any night of my choosing." She was about to pull away and tell him where to stick his ultimatums, but he tightened the grip on her forearm. "Appear pleased and agree, or I'll inform everyone here including my mother, how you allowed my father to plow you earlier this rising at the cove."
"I can't wait to bind you," Hvitserk said, reminding her of the Hvits she'd met when she first arrived. Something twisted and…hot? Yeah, definitely hot, flashed in his eyes. "It gladdens me to know that soon it shall be you who bleeds for me, Hjarta."
She swept her gaze between the both of them and laughed the laugh of the truly villainous and diabolical. Did they really believe two man babies barely out of puberty would intimidate her? Please! Try facing down a hybrid and his bad ass original brother during quickening season, now that's the fuckery that'll make a thorough chick soak her La Perla's.
"Oh, Hvitserk and Ubbe! Don't go raiding England. You boys should both stick to the farms and the homesteads your use to," she swiped them over each of their right brows. Then leaned forward and pressed lingering kisses to both of their lips. As she did so, she allowed memories to slip through. Memories of the love making sessions when she got the best of Klaus and had him screaming like a victim from the Spanish inquisition. When she heard the hitch in their breathing, she pulled back the memory, and leaned forward between them to whisper, "and he's an immortal hybrid who is a direct descendant of Fenrir. So, yes, it's okay for Hvits to join us, Ubbe. Doubt you can handle me on your own."
Bonnie moved on from Ubbe and Hvitserk feeling a little more burned than pissed. She couldn't believe they had the nerve to try and blackmail her. Her! Someone who jumped off the boat riding for them. If she wasn't through before then, this utterly placed a period at the end of whatever she and Ubbe called themselves doing. She squatted to be eye to eye with Ivar. Her magic pooled in her palm and began making a steady escape from the open wound on her thumb. Yet, instead of moving about the hall to wreak havoc it swirled about Ivar. Flirting with him like the word shame had never been invented. A smirk quirked the corner of his mouth as the sorcery nipped at his ears and neck.
Bonnie marked him over his right brow. Then she dragged her thumb over the pulse point at his right carotid without considering why. The man next to Halfdan gasped. Confusion and disapproval moved as one within the depths of his eyes, while joy radiated from both Floki's and Queen Aslaug's faces. When she attempted to pull her hand away, Ivar held fast to the bleeding digit. He rubbed the oozing pad across her bottom lip. Once it was saturated in her blood, he leaned forward and captured the meaty flesh between his teeth. Soon after he began to suck, provoking a major spill between aisle one and two. Oh hell! If the night stayed the course she was gonna need a pipe check in her candy shop. And Mr. We Lay Pipes better be able to handle a flood!