Chapter 8

A firm knock on the door can be heard behind Laurin, where he stands with a handwritten letter in his hand. Outside, the libraries large oriel window glimpses the view of a calm, quiet, and sunless landscape. He doesn't want to be disturbed, not now.

"One minute!" He growls at the closed door and curses quietly to himself.

Having Indra as a guest progressively feels like a full-time job. Indra clearly wants to make life as difficult as possible for him, with her constant questioning of why she is not allowed to return to Asgard to check on her family. Why is he putting himself through this? What does he get out of protecting Indra in this way?

The night before, they got into a drawn-out discussion which ended with Indra storming out and slamming the door so hard that the hinges came loose leaving the door on a slant behind her. Sometimes he’s almost intimidated by her powers – but only almost.

"Come in then!" Laurin calls out before sighing annoyed.

Indra entered the room her face radiating imperious, she’s wearing an old-fashioned white cotton dress with green and silver embroidery. Her unruly hair frames her small face and her obvious anger makes her eyes sparkle in iridescent colors. With her head held high, she closes the heavy door behind her.

"Have you come to surrender?" He folds the letter and puts it down in his pocket and closes the distance between them in a few long strides.

Indra remains firmly in her spot; she slowly pulls out a small pistol with a pearly white handle and points it at him. She pulls back the hammer and waits for his reaction.

Laurin rubs the dark stubble on his chin and watch her with mixed emotions of irritation and admiration. Her bottomless eyes fascinate him; he sees how her eyes shifts from icy blue to lime green, with speckles of pure gold. Her eyes almost hypnotize him, they remind him of the Northern Lights seductive dance across a dark starry night. Laurin have never seen anything more beautiful. His dark eyes trail down her curvy form and lingers for a moment on her breasts that are softly bouncing with each of her nervous breaths.

She pushes her shoulders up in an attempt to correct the dress's low neckline.

"Imagine what that surrender might look like, Indra." He sees how she reacts to his words, as if they are heating up every inch of her skin. "Do you really want to miss out on my delightful company?" He leans closer and she can see the dark stubble on his clenched jaw and smell his musky scent.

Indra swallows hard and pushes the pistols mussel against his chest. "It wouldn't be any pleasure for me, Laurin," she mumbles.

"Yes, it would – and you know it, beautiful Indra." He looks down at the pistol and his full lips form into a bitter smile. "Why don't you tell me why you're turn to these drastic measures against the man who saved your life?"

Indra sneers. "You know why. I'm going to go home and this time you're not going to stop me."

He takes a step forward and pushes the pistols muzzle even harder into his chest. "You know I'm immortal and a shot from this..." He nods to the pistol. "... can't kill me."

He really doesn’t have to worry, due to the fact that the castle is enchanted and this means that Indra cannot find a way out. Whatever door she chooses, it will just lead her back to him.

"I know that, but a bullet might still knock you unconscious long enough for me to say goodbye to your companionship," she growls, as irritated with herself as she is furious with him.

"So be it. I am not a man who intends to stand in the way of the wishes of a fair young lady or what she desires in life." He utters the words with dripping irony.

His stare becomes hard and he grabs the pistol firmly and unexpectedly tears it out of her hands. "Tell me about your terms and conditions, and we'll see if they might suit the both of us."

Indra is fully aware of the anger in his voice and she finds it difficult to breathe.

"I don't just want too; I haveto go home."

"Your request is not granted." Laurin turns around with the pistol in his hand. He needs to add some distance from her, her warm and tempting scent fills his nostrils and his mind. "For heaven’s sake, Indra, what don't you understand? I can't let you go home! It's too dangerous."

Laurin throws the pistol onto his desk and pulls out the letter he received earlier in the day. "This is a warning, addressed to you," he says, placing the letter in her trembling hands.

Indra unfolds the paper. It is a letter written personally to her; a detailed account of what will happen if she does not immediately make her way to Svartheim's forge.

She looks up at Laurin with eyes haunted by sadness.

"They've taken my little brother." The letter falls out of her hand and drifts to the floor. "You have to let me go, please.I have to save Joar from the dwarves who have taken him. He's only seven years old!" Her shoulders slumps and her body start to tremble.

Laurin grabs Indra and pulls her into his arms. She sobs quietly against his hard chest.

"You have to let me go, Laurin," she begs as she pulls out of his arms her eyes are wide when they met his, he sighs and looks away.

"No matter how much I want to help you, Indra, I can't let you leave the castle. It's too dangerous for you right now."

"My life has always been dangerous, one way or the other. I'm not like some fragile porcelain doll that you need to wrap in cotton. I know how to take care of myself."

Laurin laughs softly. "I have no doubt about that for a second, but you are under my protection now, Indra."

"Damn you, Laurin. That's my little brother we're talking about! I'll never forgive you if anything happens to him. And don’t you forget that."

Laurin inhales deeply in an attempt to calm himself, now that he's so close to her and can inhale her sweet scent, instead of moving away he starts looking for reasons to bring her closer to him.

His heart hurts from her harsh, unforgiving words. The desire to protect this woman practically tears him in half. He just wants to keep her safe.

"Why won’t you let me make sure you're safe, Indra? Do you find it that difficult to receive help from others?"

"I'm not a child anymore, Laurin," she sighs tiredly. "It's not your responsibility. I should be able to decide for myself the choices I make, especially when my family is in danger."

"Sometimes you may not always understand what’s best for your own interests ..." Slowly, so to make her understand what he is referring to, he lowers his lips to hers.

With his tongue, he tastes her for the first time. She tastes of herbal tea and faint sweetness from honey. Her scent of late summer flowers envelops him and his body reacts to her soft creation. He has heard of her magical eyes, but nothing has prepared him for how the reality surpass the imagination.

Holy hell, this is actually happening. He sucks on her full bottom lip and hears her moan into his mouth.

Passionately she starts kissing him back, her mouth soft and warm. His breath hitches and he swallow in an attempt to control the rush of blood to his lower parts. He needs to make a decision. Is he going to interrupt this amazing thing that's about to happen, and bluntly back away from her? Or let himself enjoy the pleasures of heaven itself with this woman?

Laurin gathers his remaining will powers, breaks the kiss and pulls away from her.

Indra looks at him surprise. He wants her more than anything, this woman with swollen lips and blushing cheeks, but he doesn’t want to lose control and, in any way, jeopardizing her safety.

Embarrassment flickers in her eyes for a split second and her words comes out like sharp shards of ice.

"To hell with you, Laurin..." She storms across the room and disappears out the large wooden door.

That he finds her undeniably sexy there’s no question about, that she’s also intoxicating and exciting to be around is just some of the inescapable reasons behind why he had to send her away. Laurin needs to distance himself from this woman he should have never got mixed up with in the first place.

He frowns and curses out loud. This situation is going to hell and fast. He cannot allow himself to fall for Indra.

She is simply a tool, for him to make means to an end– nothing else.

A debt remains and it must be paid.