Hvitserk cast his gaze around the great hall. Silence clung to the room like an unfamiliar companion. Even there divine king appeared moved to speechlessness. How could he not be? They'd all witnessed what had become of Bonnie. The very same woman they'd once loved more than their next breath. She'd been diminished to nothing more than an old leather face woman with eyes stricken wide from horror. The horrendous sight flared to existence in the forefront of his mind's eye. Even now his ears bled from the cutting edge of her screams. And when she looked to him for assistance…

Hvitserk wanted nothing more than to be the man she always relied upon. The man who always wrecked himself to become what she needed. Yet something vengeful and exacting inside of him wouldn't allow him. No this time he only wished to walk away and never turn a face to her again. So he did. He walked away and if Fate remained true to his wishes he'd never turn to her again.

Hvitserk now knew for better or never he was done with Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls. Looking at Ivar however, he could tell his brother bore no such notions. The soured twist of Freydis' face heralded she'd plotted the same conclusion. A chortle burst from his mouth. He raised his cup to his lips, and then halted. A taste for ale no longer dwelled upon his tongue. Instead of searching for a deeper purpose at the bottom of his chalice, he decided to attend Ivar.

"Is this a feast or are we in mourning, brother?" Hvitserk questioned, while spearing his younger brother with a mocking eye. "Where is your cheer? You've slayed the great shieldmaiden Lagertha. The woman who murdered our mother in cold blood." He further mocked.

"That woman was not Lagertha." Ivar's upper lip curled as he attempted to dismiss him with a wave of a hand. "I was deceived into believing it to be so. One of my personal warriors thought to gain favor by presenting me with the fraudulent woman."

"Gram," Freydis added as if it had been inquired of her.

"Odin came to Kattegat himself to give me the right of it. The warrior was put to death for his error," Ivar muttered as he cast his gaze away.

"Ack!" He laughed. Ivar must've believed him a fool. "Odin came for Bonnie. He'll always come for her. Do you misremember he named her mate before our battle with Alle?"

Ivar studied him. The inner designs of his brother's mind cavorted boldly with in his stare. As his eyes flared and narrowed he appeared to be attempting to order his thoughts. After moments of keeping his own counsel he then struggled to stand. Once on his feet he crossed the hall to Hvitserk's place at the great table. As Ivar settled next to him his glare skewered guests who sat nigh. Each one moved with haste to replace themselves.

"Are you aware of what has altered Bonnie? Why she appears so…so-,"

"Old?" He supplied as the corners of his mouth traveled south.

Distress twisted Ivar's normally severe features. His head dipped once in agreement. "Thomas says she refuses to eat or receive offerings."

"These are no longer any of our concerns, Ivar," he said, shaking his head and glaring down at his platter.

"What if it's the babe she carries, Hvitserk? What if it's Halfdan's spawn that drains her?" Ivar inhaled, and then forced air from his mouth as his gaze darted about the hall, before continuing in a lowered tone. "What if it feasts upon her mystical energy just as that evil spirit feasted upon Alle and is soldiers?" Hvitserk's eyes rolled. When would Ivar learn to unhand his downfall? "Scoff if you must, hmm! But I'm not like you. Though Bonnie has betrayed my heart my own refuses to do the same in turn. She is still my love!"

Hvitserk tossed his eating dagger on his platter. He no longer had the stomach for the fare. "Boneless, if you're truly minded to search out the evil which infected North Umbria then you need cast your gaze no further than your base wife."

No longer at ease to remain within Ivar's company Hvitserk sought his leave of the hall. Outside, Freyja tossed water from the heavens and Thor beat his hammer. Yet he cared not. He began to walk without a clear path. After several nonspecific turns and hundreds of unordered steps he discovered himself back at the harbor standing in front of the remains of the false Lagertha. Though, the charred leavings isn't what consumed his sight or mind. No Bonnie did, or perhaps it was the brokenness which resided in her murky verdant stare. If she returned from the brink she now lingered upon, she'd never again be who he and his brothers knew her to be. She'd forever be altered. The thought saddened him.

"Lord Hvitserk?" A breathy voice slightly high in pitch met his ears and resonated through him. The honied tone stroked vacant parts of him that had never known the benefit of a spiritual connection. He blinked and the most unassumingly beautiful face he'd ever seen devoured his sight and pilfered his focus. "Come, you'll meet your end in this down pour. The gods' no doubt mourn for our Supreme."

He noticed the crimson and gold swipe over her right brow. A trusted. Despite her being one of Bonnie's faithful's he allowed her to escort him out of the rain to her keep. Once inside her small one room lodging she relieved him of his drenched attire. She then dried him with strips of cloth. When his body no longer held dampness, she placed him next to the hearth to wrench the chill away from his skin. Her keep of his welfare honored him. She'd refused to have a care for herself until she had secured his comfort. This act on her part moved him. No one had ever placed his needs before their own wellbeing.

After she removed her clothing, she wrapped a fur about her bare frame and then settled down with him next to the hearth. She entwined her hand with his and he couldn't help but hope her touch became familiar to him. She began to trace the raised vessels upon the back of his hand. He couldn't help but study her in a state of silent fascination.

"Why didn't you sail back to England with King Harald?" She questioned as her gaze rose to imprison his.

"What is your name?" He reached out to stroke her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"Thora, Lord Hvitserk."

"Thora." He allowed the name to roll across his tongue to savor the sweetness of it within his mouth. "Fate has tied my path to Ivar's and our Supreme's. It matters not that I want nothing more than to have leave of these shores."

The skin between her brows wrinkled. "Perhaps, Fate will reconsider this path she's placed you upon concerning King Ivar. For the king dishonors the gods each rising he attempts to place his Saxon whore over our Supreme or name himself God."

"You speak without knowledge, faithful one." He lifted their joined hands and pressed a kiss to the back of hers. "Our Supreme isn't without fault. She's committed her share of transgressions as well."

Though her lips remained unmoving pleasure radiated from her face and eyes. "Whatever the right of it may be, it is not for me to judge my gods or my most high. My only purpose is to remain devoted and unquestioning."

Amusement tugged at the corners of his lips. "And what do you know of remaining faithful to the gods?"

"Perhaps, more than most. I've walked the path of the high priestess since my sixth summer until this eve," she said, casting her gaze to the fires blazing within the hearth.

With a gentle hand he grasp her chin to guide her eyes back to his. "And what happened this eve to tear you from your path?"

"You stepped upon my path. I've since discovered myself no longer content to walk the steps of a priestess." She allowed the furs which covered her to slip from her shoulders. "Not when the only path I now want to know is yours."

Unable to resist, he leaned forward and lifted her body upon his.


Silas opened his neck by thought alone. He cuddled Bonnie close, and then placed the open wound over her mouth. Seconds later she latched on and suckled. As always she drunk for a moment and released. He allowed her to do so. The last time he attempted to force her to take more she projectile vomited it all back at him like the demon possessed. One would've thought he'd been named prom king to be made the ass end of a joke at the senior dance.

Silas rested her on the pillow. He stroked her cheek as his gaze crept over her face. She still remained the most indisputable exquisite vision he'd ever sighted. Now if she'd only open her eyes. Incinerate his ass with nothing more than her emerald fire glare. It had been ages since she'd done so. Days even since she'd been aware. Whenever he attempted to touch her mind the visions moved in her head as if someone had pressed fast forward on a movie reel. He could barely distinguish where one ended and another began.

From what little of her visions he recognized, he determined she wrestled with monsters from her past. She suffered through battles she'd long since fought and won. She whimpered and his heart nearly shattered his chest to get next to her. He rested his head at her breasts. If only he could slay the enemies she battled in her head he'd bring about their end so thoroughly it would make a concluding period look like a damn…To Be Continued.

"Come back to me, My Tomorrow," he whispered into the hollow of her chest.

"All-Father?" The warrior charged with guarding her called out to him from the other side of the wooden divider.

He inhaled to gather his strength and wits, before exhaling a slow sigh. "Yes?"

"I have the seer as you requested."

Silas pressed a kiss to Bonnie's forehead, and then pulled himself in an upright position. He raked his fingers through his hair to pull himself together. "Lead him in."

Moments later Kattegat's seeker, but better known to him as Asgard's anchor shuffled into the room. As always just the sight of the self-aggrandizing bastard put him in a smiting mood. He opened his mouth to speak, but the seer beat him to it.

The cloaked termite waved a grimey cracked hand at him. "I cannot help her and I have no knowledge that will aid you in doing what I'm not capable."

"Oh just stop the cap! Surely, there's something you can do." Silas slid from the mattress to engage with Qetsiyah's pet on equal footing. "Do you mean to tell me, the all-knowing and powerful, Markos can't wake a sleeping girl from a nap?"

"Hmm." Markos sneered, glowering at him not giving a damn that he didn't even have one eye to claim. "And what of you All-Father? I've long since loss my sorcery save my foresight. Perhaps, were I still in possession of my mystical energy as you now are I'd be able to attain what your sorcery is wont to achieve. Alas, as I said before I cannot!"

"Useless!" Silas growled.

"Maybe if you summon her mate-," Markos began.

He spun on the Seer as white hot heat seared his sockets. "I am her mate!"

Markos tossed up his hands. "Then I'm really not sure what you want me to tell you, Si—Odin! The Divine One's mind is likened to that of a ten thousand piece jigsaw puzzle. Only when she assembles the bits and fragments will she awaken."

His back teeth clenched as he rubbed a palm over his face. "And there's nothing I can do to help her through this?"

"No." Markos drifted closer to the bed to gaze down at Bonnie. "It's up to her to pull herself back from the brink of insanity. She carries within her everything she needs to save herself."


"Perhaps, we can call the babe Arthur. I believe this is a fitting name for our son, the future king of England."

Ivar heard Freydis speaking of some mundane topic or other. As of late he'd discovered it difficult to plot one notion to the other. It had been nigh a moon cycle since he'd cast his gaze upon Bonnie. Thomas assured him that though she suffered a bit from carrying sickness she appeared no more out of sorts than any other woman with child. Yet he found this account from his personal warrior difficult to accept. For his prior sight of his former betrothed still harried his thoughts. The way her wrinkled skin drooped about her face and her cloudy dull eyes sunk into her head ran his heart cold. Spies had also informed him Bonnie's trusted had taken to lying prostrate before her keep in vigil for she and her babe.

"Ivar!" Freydis brought the flat of her hand to his chest. "Are you attending me?"

He twisted his head about as he attempted to bridle his anger. "Freydis, my son will not be burdened with the name of a Saxon! He will have a name fit for the son of a god."

"Then what would you call him, My King?" She scooted closer to him on the bed, and then wrapped her arms about his neck.

"I'm not minded at the moment, Freydis." Distracted he snatched her arms from about his neck and slid from the mattress. "Baldur, maybe? It is as fine a name as any." When he discovered his footing, he waved a hand at her. "See to your own amusements for a few turns of the hour glass. I'm minded to sit upon my throne and perhaps hear a few grievances." With his iron crutch firmly in hand he then hobbled about and sought his leave of his personal quarters.

Once he made it to his throne he sat. His mind then strayed to the one love his heart refused to relinquish. Even old and haggard he still professed no one to be more beautiful within his sight. And it enraged him to know the All-Father meted out offerings to her when he'd forbidden anyone to do so. In verity, he'd ordered this because he expected Bonnie to buckle under necessity and come to him. To plead with him to make her an offering. Though he would've made an obscene row about her appeal for sustenance he would've eventually given in to her. Then an innocent offering would've led to something more and before she realized his plots she would've been back in his bed furs once more. Yet the All-Father had to ruin his plans with his unwanted offerings!

Of course those plots subsisted long before he realized in what peril his former mate dwelled. The evil spirit she now carried feasted upon her divinity and sorcery. He'd seen the right of it the eve they'd sacrificed the false Lagertha. He even attempted to broach the subject with Hvitserk the same eve. Yet he no longer had a care for Bonnie or her well-being. Not since he'd pilfered away a priestess initiate from Kattegat's shrine. An initiate who was only risings away from giving her vow to Freyja. Now they cohabitated together and his brother appeared to be thoroughly besotted with the girl. He still didn't understand how Hvitserk was able to turn away from Bonnie so completely and be happy with another.

Bo, his personal warrior, approached his throne. "One of the spies have sent word. Odin's sought his leave of the Supre—uh dark witch's keep. The spy also overheard the All-Father tell Thomas he'll be away all eve."

"Tell my wife I've gone to the hunting cabin and I won't return until next rising."

Ivar hoisted himself to his feet and hobbled from the hall. He limped down the corridor which led out to Kattegat's stores Halfway to their he halted. Glancing left, then right he tapped the wall. A section swung inwards. Quickly, he secreted himself within and allowed the wall to swing closed after him. Darkness blanketed the den. Had the strings of his heart not guided him, he would've tumbled to his death many times over.

Once he descended the steps, he set off at a steady limp to Bonnie's keep. A half turn of the hour glass later delivered him to the wall of her sleeping quarters. As expected the wooden structure slid open with ease. In the confines of the room Bonnie rested in bed upon her back. Candlelight cast her much fuller form in a glow. The small bump she'd carried before now swelled from her body like a mountainous rolling hill upon flat land. The huge bulge shifted about even as she lay as still as the dead.

Ivar wrapped his hand around the handle of his blade. He crept towards the bed careful not to disturb Bonnie. If he could he meant to spare her the anticipation of the deed. His grip tightened around the dagger as he prepared to liberate his once and only love from her demon. He withdrew the blade from his trousers. The closer to Bonnie he drew the more of her filled his sight. It pleased him to see her beauty and youth had returned. He even sensed a bit of her sorcery. Not to discount the undeniable draw of her divinity. Yet if she were to keep her essence intact then the spawn had to be ripped from her body. Their bargain be damned! He raised the dagger high and placed his hand on her belly. The moment his palm made contact a blend of sorcery unique to he and Bonnie wrapped about his wrist…

A vision of Hvitserk and Bonnie greeted his sight. They lingered upon the edge of an end. His prick swelled in his pants. Witnessing them together as such always forced him to misplace his seed. He palmed his manstand and squeezed.

"I love you more than you can ever understand, Hjarta." He rasped as the golden glow in his eyes bled to an ultramarine blue.

Blinding gilded light engulfed them both. A deep husky voice not entirely Bonnie's clawed its way from her throat and tumbled from her mouth. "Show me, Sentinel. Give unto me a living testament of your affections."

Hvitserk grabbed her cheeks and glared into her eyes. He stroked the curls from her forehead as he studied her face. "Bonnie?"

"I love you, Hvits," she whispered as tears trickled free of her eyes.

The flat of his hand moved to lay on her stomach. Not so dormant mystical energy surged from his palm into her abdomen. Her belly flipped several times before resettling. "Now I look to the rising when you're the one heavy with my babe. Our son will be born in York. In the kingdom he shall inherit." His words seduced her arms into slipping themselves around his neck. "You had the right of it, My Love. We should've never departed from our kingdom's shores."

Tears trickled from his eyes as the blade slipped from his grasp. Why didn't she tell them? Why did she lead them to believe she carried the babe for Halfdan? He'd almost…he'd plotted to—Why would she allow him to enter into marriage with Freydis?!

"Babe…" A soft warm palm covered his hand that rested on her belly.

His gaze hurtled to his former mate's face to discover she gazed at him through half opened lids, while an enchanting smile lingered upon her lips. His mind moved about different questions to pose, but before he could settle upon one a soft snuffle of air greeted his ears. Bonnie had drifted off to slumber once more. Unsure of himself or his own affections he sought out his leave.


Hvitserk couldn't help the smile which adorned his mouth at any given moment of the rising. Even as he did something as mundane as browse the trading tables of Kattegat's marketplace his face nigh ripped in half from his joy. People gawked at him as if he'd misplaced his wits. Yet he cared not what anyone pondered of him. Not if they weren't the wonderous woman who'd pilfered his heart straightaway from his chest. And in such a pitiable amount of time as a single moon cycle. Thora had become everything he didn't know to long for in a woman. She loved him in an unselfish way. A way in which his former mate had never been so inclined to do.

Too distracted with his own good fortune, he slammed in to someone. The soft bulging frame bounded off of him. Before the person could greet the ground, he reached out to grab their arms to steady them.

"My apologies-," he began.

The figure misplaced themselves from his grasp. "No worries, it was my fault. I should've been watching-,"

"B-Bonnie, I did not…" His words staggered to a halt.

She rolled her gaze away, dismissing him to continue looking about the market place. His disbelieving stare roamed over her. Her appearance took him unawares. She wore her hair knotted at the back of her head in the likes of a spinster. The material of her clothing was worn and better suited for the coinless. Although she no longer had the look of a crone, she no longer held the look of the divine deity who'd once plagued his thoughts from rising to eve. For the first time since he'd cast his gaze upon her, she appeared…normal. Like any other woman about Kattegat heavy with child. The look of her didn't pilfer one breath from him nor falter one of his heartbeats. In verity, his heart remained steady in its pound. Not once quickening nor stalling though she stood near.

"Lord Hvitserk." Thomas beheld him with a wary eye as he dipped a head to him in a careless bow. He then moved to Bonnie's side and placed a hand at the small of her back. Again Hvitserk felt not even a flickering flame of jealousy by the warrior's act of familiarity. "Supreme, we shouldn't linger. You promised the All-Father you'd be gone no longer than the turn of an hour glass."

"I know," she looked about the trading area, "but I'd hoped to see Wilbur before I returned back to the keep."

Without even a fare thee well she parted from him to search out her swine. He turned away. For he felt no pressing need to watch her go. His reaction to Bonnie confirmed his affections for Thora. It also served to reaffirm the next step he'd planned to plot with her. He had no further cares for Ivar and Bonnie. For nigh a moon cycle his brother had attempted to seek him out. He'd sent word by way of his personal warrior he had a matter of import to discuss with him. Yet Ivar no longer stood for anything of import. So he doubted any discussions with him would warrant such level of urgency. Instead of attending his younger brother, Hvitserk avoided him. He'd continue to do so until he freed himself of his Boneless burden.

All too soon his walk led him to the keep of the Seer. Never before had Hvitserk ever held an urge to seek him out. Yet that rising he felt compelled to visit the one whose foresight had been ordained and blessed by the gods. He raised a fist to knock.

"Enter, Hvitserk! Third eldest son of Ragnar!" An annoyed voice seethed before he had the opportunity to set his fist against the door. Lowering his hand, he pushed his way into the keep. The seer rested upon a pile of earth. He appeared to suffer, yet managed to demand, "Why have you come here?"

Hvitserk cleared his throat. "I met a woman. I believe her to have been sent to me by the gods as a sign of sorts."

"The gods? Hmph, ha!" The Seer chortled a bit to himself. "A sign?"

"Yes." His head bobbed as he moved to claim the bench across from the Seer's pile of soil. "A sign to tell me my path has changed. That my steps no longer lies with Ivar's and Bonnie's. My walk now entwines with Thora."

"Oh." The word crawled from the Seer's crusty lips not attached to one emotion or trek of thought.

So Hvitserk continued. For he was unlearned in the ways of receiving divination from a Seer. "What I want to know is will Thora and I have a happy life together? A life filled with babes and affection…a life of which we can both be proud?"

The Seer stared at him with an eyeless gaze. His shoulders hoisted and fell. "Who can tell? I cannot see you, Lord Hvitserk! Darkness swirls about you, shifting and clearing at your will!"

Frustration forced an exhale from the depths of his chest. This Seer was sightless! Why would his family allow him to maintain the position of Kattegat's Oracle? "Well answer me this, will the gods be angered if I take Thora and seek my leave of Kattegat?"

"I do not KNOW!" The Seer bellowed, rising to his elbows in his show of annoyance. "Will you be angered if you seek your leave of Kattegat? For only you can answer this question!" He slumped back into the earth. "Divine or not you're still as witless as ever." Hvitserk heard the cloak figure mutter.

Weary of the circles he'd turned about by speaking with one such as the Seer, Hvitserk believed it wise he sought his leave. For if he lingered even a moment longer Kattegat would have to endure impending risings without the benefit of their worthless Seer's foresight. Asides, his mind was set. He'd take Thora and depart from Kattegat's shores. Together they'd discover a place where they could build a life and a family.


"Why would you still prepare this tonic?" The Seer wailed as he tossed about on the pile of earth which sat for whatever reason in the center of his house. "Any spell spent on your behalf may very well lead to your desiccation!"

Bonnie placed the pink straw to his lips and allowed him to sip. "You're suffering and I'll not have it! Especially, if there's something I can do to help. Besides, Odin allowed me to channel him so very little magic was spent on my part."

"Ouk, I can tell." A grimace wrinkled his face and snatched his tongue from his mouth. He pushed the hot pink tumbler back at her. "His sorcery is bargain basement when likened to yours. Now it's truly as if I ingest medicine."

Bonnie smiled a bit even as her mind dwelled elsewhere. Since she'd awakened from her month long nap she had a foreboding all was not well with her daughter. A doom stalked her baby and there she sat powerless to block the outcome.

"What burdens your mind, Divine One?" The Seer questioned in a sober tone she'd never heard him use before.

His rare moment of seriousness swept her gaze back to his puckered face. "Everything is not as it should be with my babe." Voicing her fears snatched the liquid evidence of her pain from her eyes. "I sense something unspeakable is gonna happen to her. Something I'm not powerful enough to stop."

"I want nothing more than to lay your concerns to rest," The Seer grunted as he took hold of her hand. "Yet we enter into morns without risings. Darkness sabotages Fate's path and obscures my sight."

She took the seat next to his pile of earth, while still clasping his hand in hers. "Darkness is doing more than that, she's winning. Not only has she had her Emissary create a covenant with my fated mate, but she also has that bitch taking shots at me like my smoke don't choke. Coming for me, my child and the future king of Norway like we're nothing more than fading fingerprints upon the aesthetic of Inadu's new supernatural world order." Frustration threatened to snatch more water from her glare. She closed her eyes and shook her head. "It's gotten so bad, Odin has taken to spelling me with a Banal incantation to cloak my divinity. Just so I can blend enough to leave my keep."

"A Banal incantation, uck! That's what that is." The Seer retched a bit as he snatched his hand from hers. "Figures that would be the spell in which he'd excel."

She settled back on the bench, while clasping her hands together. One of the visions from her month long coma drifted to her mind. "The sense of danger has even manifested itself into a vision. An image so terrible it snatched me from the throes of a coma." Her gaze darted to a sight which dwelled beyond the confines of confirmed reality. "Ivar stood over me. Dagger in hand, only seconds from plunging the blade into my belly."

Rough cracked to hell hands grabbed hers, he struggled to an upright position to bring his face closer to hers. "Bonnie Bennett, that was no dream! You must-," His head snatched about to regard the door. "No…not now!" The Seer growled in a familiar voice which was unfamiliar to him. He then turned back to pin her with an eyeless glare. "You must hide yourself away, Divine One. And no matter what you hear for the sake of your babe, you're to remain hidden. Do you understand?" Speechless, because she was more than sure in that moment the Seer, her dear friend, was Markos the Traveler who literally stole her hometown. Stunned, all she could manage was a nod. "Vow it, Bonnie Bennett! Vow it now!" He placed his hand on her belly as a fist slammed against the door of his keep.

"I v-vow it!" She stuttered.

With more strength than she believed him capable of, he lifted her from the bench. He then pushed her in the direction of a cupboard not far from his pile of earth. She climbed inside and partially close the door. The entrance of the Seer's keep burst open. Ivar limped in surrounded by an air of entitlement, donning a black cloak which covered him from head to ankles. He dressed as if he intended to go unnoticed while he called on the Seer.

"Ivar without bones or pit-,"

"You knew the babe Bonnie carried was for me and Hvitserk!" Ivar snatched a dagger from his trousers and pointed the blade at Markos. "Why would you allow me to enter into matrimony with Freydis, hmm? Raise her before the sight of my people and discredit Bonnie?"

"Allow you?" Laughter rattled from Markos chest. "No one allows Ivar the Boneless anything! You thought to punish our Supreme," Ivar's eyes and nostrils flared because Markos dared call her by the title he'd attempted to pilfer from her, "For choosing the many under her dominion over you and your brothers! Yet you should know, you will never discredit the Supreme before those who are truly her trusted. Especially, if you're minded to replace her with your Saxon whore."

Ivar snorted to himself as he shook his head a bit. "Oh, Freydis is more than a Saxon whore. Whether you believe or not, she is the true Supreme." Markos threw his head back and laughed. Rage snatched the muscles in Ivar's face taut. "It was she who delivered me Kattegat, who laid Bonnie at my feet, and she also made me a god! Even now she carries my divine son!"

"She carries a divine lie which feeds on the makings of your mind from one rising to the next!" Markos hissed as he deposited fistfuls of dirt upon his chest. Almost as if he attempted to bury himself. "For you are as brainless now as you are boneless. You've not lain with her in nigh a solstice cycle yet she carries a babe she claims to be yours and you." He patted the small piles of dirt into his chest, all while snickering to himself, "accept said child without question. Yet the babe whose conception cavorts under a sea of uncertainties you're never even minded to consider. That viper has seduced your ambitions and pandered to your vanity until you're no longer bothered to regard reason!"

Markos no! Why would he incite Ivar? Did he want a fucking ax to the skull?

"This matters not! I've not lain with Bonnie in many moon cycles. Yet, you and I both know that is my babe she carries within her womb."

"Well…yes, that's how it tends to work! You do get that, right?" Markos halted in patting dirt into his chest to peer at Ivar as if he truly believed him to be brainless instead of boneless.

"I am a god and gods do not begat children in the way of mortals!" Ivar closed the distance between them. "And well you know, Seer."

Her heart leaped in her throat and imitated a Ferrari. She couldn't catch her breath, and the baby was bouncing on her damn bladder like a trampoline.

"You're no god, and if you persist upon the path you now travel," Markos eyeless gaze held his, "you'll never be. Not while you still allow the void's emissary to plant seeds of lunacy within your skull! Cast the Saxon slave aside or you'll be filched of your fate the same as your father."

"No! I'll be greater than my father. My name shall go farther than his has ever gone!" Ivar grabbed Markos' face and place the blade to his throat. "Freydis, assured me my divinity will pass on to our child. He and his children will go on to birth nations into existence! Just as Odin did when he begot his descendants!"

Markos regarded him for a long moment. So long it bordered on awkward. Then his face crumpled. "Your mind is not poisoned by the toxins she slips in your ale each eve. You've consciously made the decision to choose that redundancy in human form over the rightful path Fate has chosen for you."

"Fate can no more order the path of a god than a peasant can dictate the steps of a king!" Ivar roared.

Spittle flew from his mouth and sprayed Markos' face. Yet Markos appeared undisturbed by the slight. No he looked downright bereft as he angled his face toward her hiding place in the cupboard. "I'm sorry, Divine One. He's chosen a broken path burdened by the Emissary's influence. Your babe's walk is set. Forgive me."

"You will speak to the people of my ascension into divinity, Seer," Ivar said, slapping a palm to Markos cheek.

He turned back to Ivar. "What of Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls? What of the babe, you, she, and your brother created together?" The way the question fell from Markos lips she could tell he already knew the answer. He'd only asked for her benefit. He meant to show her where she stood.

"Bonnie?" Ivar's brows buckled as if the subject of her posed too trivial in topic. "She's just a witch and her babe nothing more than a demigod. Of course I shall show them favor, but she and that babe shall never compare to my divine wife and son."

An ocean of sorrow ran unchecked from her eyes…

"Ivar," She covered his hand with hers and gazed into his supernaturally blue stare. "Would you still love me if I wasn't the Supreme of supernature, if I didn't have any mystical energy to brag of, and I was nothing more than another foreign slave to cross the shores of Kattegat?"

He maneuvered himself so he hovered over her. "My Love, I would still place value upon your heart even if the beauty you possessed couldn't be beheld by the eye. Though I am ever faithful to you as my Supreme, your place in the supernatural procession could alter this rising and I'd still select you to journey at my side from this life to the next."

The lies!

"I'll tell one and all the whole of this sordid affair. Their king's mind is broken. A barbed tongue viper has emptied out your coffers and left you with dust. She's crowned you the king of fools among the witless and senseless. Can you not here the citizens of Kattegat's laughter?" Markos hissed. "For they no longer refer to you as Ivar the Boneless, but Ivar the Foolish!" He then through his head back and laughed, hysterically.

Ivar plunged the blade into his throat fifty-eleven times. Each blow swift and more punishing than the last. Bonnie's hands flew to her mouth to smother her screams. Without warning her bladder gave out. She pissed all over herself. Fear snatched her mind and had her shaking harder than a down on her luck stripper twerking for a military bag. The only thought she clung to was a prayer to the goddess of all…save my daughter, please!