“I asked where Eira is.
I want to know.
” Hall had never, ever, raised his voice to Freya before.
She frowned—she didn’t seem to like it.
“You know, I’ve changed my mind. Hel, use them as you see fit. Work them hard, but not too hard. I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Sure thing. Thanks. We have a few walls needing building.” Hel turned to them. “Now are you sure you don’t want to see Fenris first?”
Eira shivered in the cold mountaintop on which she sat. Granted, she’d been through ice and snow before, but in this place, wherever Freya had sent her, she
felt
the cold. Poor Hall and Avarr. They’d been too stiff, too quiet not to have come to her defense. Freya must have frozen them during that mockery of a trial. Hall hadn’t blinked or moved at all, nor had Avarr made a peep.
Though she hadn’t killed as many as she’d been accused of killing, no way would she let her new lovers take the hit. Not after seeing their bravery, their skill, their power. Even now, she felt them with her. It made no sense, but knowing they were alive and well gave her a sense of peace.
Freya suddenly appeared right next to her and startled her into almost toppling off the mountain.
The goddess grabbed her by the edge of her tunic and hauled her back onto her feet.
“Freya…”
“Eira. How fitting. Little Snow sits on top of a little snow.” Freya laughed, and a warm wind washed over them both.
“Where are we?”
“Midgard. In the Cascade Mountains, as a matter of fact. Lovely, isn’t it?”
Eira nodded. After a moment, she asked what she’d been afraid to know. “Avarr and Hall? They are well?”
“Fit to be tied, those two.” Freya narrowed her eyes. “Just what do you think you’re doing cavorting with my personal guard? Don’t think I didn’t know you’ve been mooning over those two for years.”
“Not mooning, exactly.” Her face felt hot.
“Oh? So you don’t care about them?’
“Not at all.” Realizing how that sounded, Eira quickly amended, “I mean, that’s not right. I care about them deeply.”
“Enough to take their punishment? Yes, I know who did all the killing. And I know you were doing your best
not
to kill until Hall and Avarr stumbled into battle rage.”
Eira didn’t want to lie to her goddess, but she couldn’t let anything happen to her lovers. “No. It was all my idea.”
“Oh? You wanted the centaurs and fauns to fuck you?”
“Crude, but no. I hate fauns.”
Freya screwed up her nose. “Me, too. And horses that talk? Centaurs are too full of themselves. But I do like scarabs. Pity my pets had to mess with that one. I bet that was something to see. Aren’t they beautiful in action?” Freya sighed.
“Yes. They are.”
“You love them, don’t you?”
“I do. Wait. What?”
“No takebacks.” Freya laughed. “If you could see your face. For years I’ve watched the lot of you dance around one another. First Avarr and Hall, then you. Yet you, my proud warrior, would rather sacrifice your happiness than take away my finest guardians. Is that right?”
Eira thought about it. Freya needed Avarr and Hall by her side. They loved Asgard. They deserved to be there, with the best. Freya had other valkyries. None so strong as Eira, but she would make do. “That’s right. Send me away, but don’t punish Avarr or Hall for serving you, goddess. Please.” She lowered her head, though it bothered her to do so.
“Would you really beg me to save them?”
Valkyrie didn’t beg. They didn’t surrender. But for her battle-cats, Eira made an exception. “Yes. Please, Freya. Save them.” Eira got down on her knees.
“That is just beautiful.” Freya clapped, and mounds of snow fell from the mountains, starting an avalanche below them. “You know the pair mated you.”
Eira snapped her head up. “What?”
“Didn’t you wonder why your scars have yet to heal? When a battle-cat takes a mate, the scars signal a claiming. Didn’t you feel the power exchange?”
“I thought that was just great sex.” Mated? Her heart raced in gladness and exasperation.
“It was, I imagine.” Freya grinned. “My pets have been in heat for you for way too long. It was high time you fell in lust and in love, my dear.”
Eira couldn’t believe it, but she felt tears in her eyes. “Tell them I’ll miss them.”
“Yes. You have been banished, haven’t you?” Freya nodded. “Mars, that ass. He arranged for the whole fiasco by the lake. You didn’t think the Greeks, Romans, and Egyptians would willingly fight for a valkyrie, did you? No offense, dear, but half of the centaurs are gay.”
“Oh.” What did that mean?
“What it means is that I’m not nearly as obtuse as Mars thinks. We can’t interfere in the games. Our mortal pawns control the win, with little help from us. But there are many ways around those rules. You had mortal parents, thus you’re part mortal. A pawn I’m more than willing to use. Granted, those beasts of yours sitting in Muspell are far from mortal, but a mate bond is a mate bond. Nothing I can do to prevent them from following you to your banishment.”
“I don’t understand. You want me to play the game for you?”
“You don’t really think I’d banish my finest warrior for a few meaningless deaths, do you? Honey, you were born to kill. No. I need you here, in Midgard, keeping an eye out for me. While the games play, you’ll run my headquarters, be part of my network. You’ll have to fit in with the humans, but that shouldn’t be too difficult for you. You were born here a few hundred years ago, after all.
“You’ll need to get up to speed on the times as well as the new technology available. We’ll find you a house near the location of the game board. And when my pieces need help, you’ll give aid.”
“Yes, Freya.” She wasn’t banished. Wasn’t going to lose Hall or Avarr.
Her mates.
Excited yet irritated they’d managed to mate her without her approval, she wondered how best to get even with them. But the notion they’d outflanked her only made her admire them more. As she’d told them, valkyries were hardwired to respect challenge and strength, both of which her mates had in abundance.
“Go, my dear. Be on the lookout for the beginning of the games. I can’t wait to see how this plays out. Oh, and when you have babies, they’ll be part battle-cat. Imagine. The first battle-cat valkyrie. As unique as our elfin warrior.”
“Good old Lowe.” Eira couldn’t stop smiling.
She had her mates, a new adventure, and the beginning of a life she couldn’t wait to lead. Now she and her battle-cats needed to dig in to defend her goddess’s side in the coming challenge. With any luck, she’d get to sever centaur limbs and knock around a few humans who might stupidly side with someone against them. Gods, she couldn’t wait.
She gave her goddess a huge hug. Freya let out an
oomph
, but she’d always been a tactile goddess, and she hugged Eira right back.
Eira withdrew from the embrace, her heart racing in her chest. “Now where are those sneaky cats who mated me? I have a few bones to pick with them.”
****
A week later, as her mates tended to her in their brand new mansion on the outskirts of the human city of Portland, she wore a wide grin.
They did their best to show her how much they treasured her for her bravery and sacrifice. The love flowed freely, but it was the chance to do more battle that stirred their blood. That and the big-ass bed Freya had gifted them with as a mating present.
She smiled at her naked mates, loving when they kissed and touched in front of her. Then Hall dropped between her legs and showed her the value of having a battle-cat for a mate. Gods, that tongue.
Avarr moved behind her and angled so that he entered her slowly while Hall continued to lick her.
A Thank you from Fated Desires
Thank you so much for reading
Beast of Burden
! We’re so happy that you had a chance to look into the paranormal world of
Ludos Deorum
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If you are looking for more stories like these, you don’t have to wait much longer! Marie is cooking up new works in this series and a few others. Also, we have a few new authors coming that will be sure to whet your appetite.
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About the Author
I’ve been writing as far back as I can remember. Interest in the written word, no doubt spawned by my English teacher father, continues to this day. I’m a voracious reader, gobbling everything from romance to horror to fantasy and more. I’m in love with the art of putting pen to paper…so to speak.
I majored in English from Penn State University, earning a B.A. in Liberal Arts, as well as a commission in the United States Marine Corps. Five years later, after serving as a communications officer, I left the service to focus more on family. After going through an assortment of jobs–the Marine Corps Reserve, a government contracted agency as an IT representative, a middle manager for a Fortune 500 transportation company–I stopped working to raise two new additions to the family–my youngest sons. During this period, I decided to stop dreaming and start seriously writing.
Did you enjoy this selection? Why not try another romance from Fated Desires?
From the Ashwood Falls series by Lia Davis
A Rebel’s Heart
Chapter One
Sarah Matthews was tired. Life had become lonely and less exciting. Sure she had her kids, but they had their own lives, their own families. It just wasn’t the same, and considering she’d lost a part of her soul it had become an effort to just get out of bed some days. Her mate had died a little over five years ago in a car accident that, until today, she’d believed just that.
An accident
.
A case of being in the wrong place and all that.
However, today she received a package that made her wonder if her mate was indeed murdered. She opened the mailbox and frowned at the small box inside. Pulling it out, she studied it, suspicion twirling inside or mind. She put the thing to her ear and listened. She didn’t know what she’d expect to hear. A ticking from a bomb? Now she was being ridiculous. She rolled her eyes. “Ever so suspicious,” she muttered to herself.
There was no return address, nor was there a receiving one. That was odd. It was like someone had placed it in the mailbox. She didn’t hear any vehicles stop or even slow down in front of her house last night or this morning except for the mailman a few minutes ago. With her supernatural hearing, she’d hear a car pull up. Even her puma would had sensed another shifter in the area. Yet her senses didn’t go off.
Another mystery about the box in her hand.
The only writing on the top of the box was her name, hand-written.
Curiosity crept in, and after a quick sniff to make sure there weren’t any non-ticking explosives inside, she opened the box. Cold sensation went up her spine, and a hot fear burned her belly as she peered at the contents. Tears blurred her visions, and each heartbeat hurt as the wound that had slowly healed over the years was ripped back open. Inside the box was a gold wedding band with the words
my love, my soul
engraved on the inside. It was identical to Walt’s.
The ring he’d said he lost while working.
Underneath the ring was a slip of paper that read:
You’re next
.
Unable to go back into the house she and Walt had bought together, lived in, raised Nevan, and filled with their love, she ran into the woods, seeking some kind of peace. The tears fell in fat drops, soaking her cheeks and making it even harder to breathe.
She came to a stop at a large oak tree and dropped to her knees while she cradled the ring to her chest. The raw pain transformed into anger toward the sick bastards that could have done it. Whoever they were.
She peered back at the note. The two ugly words blurred as a tear dropped on them. Did this mean that Walt had been killed? If so, why? What would be the point of killing her? She didn’t have any enemies that she knew of anyway. And Walt…he was the most gentle and caring male she knew.
The sound of footsteps running in her direction made her stand and shove the note and ring into her pocket as her cat instantly went on alert. She scented the air and was relieved when she didn’t smell the acidy sweet smell of the Onyx Pack’s mutants. The half-animal, half-human creatures were not only gross; they were more powerful than she was.
The scent she did pick up belonged to a human, but there was another scent she couldn’t place, though it seemed familiar. The pounding of shoes hitting the earth grew closer, and she ducked behind the tree, unsure of what the human was doing in this part of the Smoky Mountains.
A human male ran past the tree, turned to look right at her as if he knew all along she was there, and pointed a gun right at her. Sarah gasped and fell to the ground a split second before he fired. Scrambling on hands and knees, she crawled around the tree and froze as another man barreled past her toward the human. The new man wasn’t a man, but a male puma shifter.