Chapter 8: Why Did You Reject Me?

Valkyrie

His touch sent a wave of warmth through my body, my breath catching in my throat.

The sensation of his lips against my skin made my pulse race, and despite my best efforts to maintain control, my body betrayed me, responding to him in ways I couldn’t ignore.

"Ragnor..." I whispered, my voice barely a breath.

He lifted his head, his gaze locking with mine, and for a moment, the world around us seemed to disappear.

I closed my eyes, bracing myself for his next move, but instead, he chuckled softly.

"Do you want to continue this?" he asked, his voice teasing yet tinged with something darker beneath the surface.

Heat flooded my cheeks, and I bit my lip nervously. "So... wh—what do you want?" My voice trembled, betraying my uncertainty.

Before I could process his words, Ragnor captured my lips in a kiss.

I gasped in pain as his kiss brushed against the cut on my lip, still bleeding, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he gently sucked the blood from my lip, his eyes locking onto mine with a look that was both sensual and hungry.

"My Valkyrie..." he murmured, his hands warm and strong as they cradled my face.

He leaned down again, brushing his lips against mine in a slow, lingering kiss that held more than just desire—it held a promise.

This kiss was different—more urgent, more possessive—as if he could no longer hold back.

I responded instinctively, my hands reaching up to touch his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath the fabric of his shirt.

Every movement, every touch, sent shockwaves through me, making it harder to think clearly, harder to resist.

The kiss deepened, and I felt his fingers threading through my hair, pulling me closer, as if he never wanted to let go.

His intoxicating scent filled my senses, heightening the desire that had been simmering inside me since our last encounter.

When we finally broke apart, both of us breathing heavily, our foreheads resting together, the tension between us was thick, electric.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice low and concerned.

I shook my head, my breath shaky. "Just a little..."

His expression darkened, his hand gently cupping my cheek. "Don’t let this happen again, Val. I won’t let it."

The intensity of his words, the promise in his voice, sent a jolt through my veins, mixing with the raw desire still coursing through me.

"I won’t..." I whispered, my voice full of obedience.

A small, satisfied smile played at the corner of his lips.

Ragnor’s gaze was intense, his eyes dark and stormy, pulling me deeper into his spell. His sharp features—a strong jawline, defined cheekbones—gave him a rugged, aristocratic appeal, while the light stubble on his chin added a raw, masculine touch that only enhanced his allure.

"Why did you reject me when you wanted me this much?" I blurted out, my curiosity overtaking me.

Ragnor’s lips, full and slightly parted, trembled as he struggled to answer.

"I... we..." He hesitated, the pause making me ache with unanswered questions.

"Why, Ragnor? Why?" My voice faltered, and before I could stop myself, the words spilled out, "Don't you love me like I do?"

The question lingered in the air, and I immediately regretted asking.

Ragnor’s expression darkened, and for a moment, the air between us crackled with tension. His jaw clenched as he struggled to find the right words, his eyes flickering with something—guilt? Regret? It was hard to tell.

"I…" He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "It’s not that simple, Val."

I swallowed, feeling a tight knot form in my chest. The vulnerability I had shown him now seemed like a mistake.

Maybe I had pushed too hard, asked too much. But I couldn’t stop myself. "Then explain it to me," I whispered, my voice shaking despite myself. "Tell me why you keep pulling away if you feel this way too."

Ragnor’s eyes softened, but the storm in them didn’t clear. He took a step back, his hand falling from my face, leaving a coldness in its wake.

"I’m not the man you think I am," he said quietly, his voice rough. "I never wanted to hurt you, but I have things—" He stopped, his gaze hardening again. "Things I can’t share, not yet. I’m not ready to let you in."

My heart ached with every word, but I forced myself to stay calm. "So you’ll just keep pushing me away?"

His eyes darkened again, as if my question had struck too close to a hidden truth. "I’m trying to protect you, Val. From me, from everything. You deserve more than I can give you right now."

My breath caught in my throat.

He was trying to protect me? But from what? And why didn’t he trust me enough to let me help?

"I don’t need protection from you, Ragnor," I said softly, but firmly. "I just need you to be honest with me."

The silence stretched between us. Ragnor looked at me, his face torn, before he slowly stepped forward again.

"One day, I’ll tell you everything. But not now. I’m not ready." His voice was barely above a whisper.

I nodded, even though my heart ached with the weight of his words.

But deep down, I couldn’t help wondering—how much longer could I wait for him to be ready?

How long could I hold onto something that felt so uncertain?