All Chapters of The Viking's Mate Hunt : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Great. I groaned down in my pull before I jumped up. Wrapping the blanket around me, I did the awkward penguin walk to the bathroom-like area with my clothes under one arm. I muttered all the animal-related curses I could think of as I heard People walk by, chuckling down the hall. This scenario would once have been my dirty little dream, a fantasy enough to make my cheeks heat up at any moment. It's a dream scene where I’m trapped on a ship with only incredibly handsome and well-trained men. But I felt more like a version of Wendy from Peter Pan. An. It was an imaginary story where I had been tasked with the impossible mission of babysitting a handful of kids with a beard, bad humor, and over 2 meters tall. All that was missing was that I would be tasked to wash their dirty underwear and their stiff and sticky single socks. The only reason for it must be that these overgrown kids don't have socks. A doomed Wendy figure that has to walk around model-like giants, alluring, dark, and wi

Tew's POV Of course, my lose-mouthed brother had spilled the beans. However, she didn’t seem to know too much or any details. Not that it mattered, but I wanted to be the one who told her. First, I was irritated when she so obviously avoided telling me about her mother; I thought she was one of those spoiled little brats still stuck in her teenage mentality. Her files didn't tell me everything, but more than enough to understand she might have a strained relationship with her parental figure. I had been so eager to hear about her because I didn't remember much. But the woman I remembered was nothing like the woman who raised her. In my memories, she was kind and smiling. She loved to bake; the smell of bread with honey could still make my mouth fill with water. I remember the morning all the Kids gathered around the fire she had started and watched as she made her incredible food on flat stones. Indeed, our ancestors cooked their meat like this, if not hanging over the open flames,

Eir´s POV. My head was a hot mess as I lay down on the soft grass, watching the start. Tew´s voice was carnal and deep, chanting words I’d never heard before in a language I could not understand. But that’s not where my thoughts were. Brother, Tew was my older brother! The sound of the drums increased in intensity, working through my body and finding my heart. It matched its rhythm before slowly working it up. Up and up, to the point it felt like my chest would explode, but I still struggled to focus on it. The sizzling sound of the open fire, the smell of burning flesh and blood sacrificed to their old gods. The drums I heard earlier felt like dancing to it; it all felt more like a distanced raucous creating a wall around me. It was locking me up in my own head. There never was a claim on me as a mate; there never was a promise forged in blood. It had all been an excuse for Tew´s pack to drag the Viking’s pack to the moonstone with the council's help. They wanted justice for what

Toke´s POV. “Is that necessary? “ “Yes, she is strong. I can feel it.” “But she will want to hear what we know; you said so yourself!” “Yes, but we also need her calm enough to listen to us. Just a drop, it will be enough to keep her calm without slipping into a deep sleep.” He croaked in my mind and peeked at her from behind the three. She looked different; her skin had a new glow to it. Warm sunbathed skin with a soft spread of freckles over her tiny nose. Her hair looked thicker and shinier. Even her smell was more pungent, spreading out with the wind, seeping in between trees, dancing with the wind, and brushing past me like a taunting seduction from Mother Earth herself. “We are stronger. You are more robust now. It makes it easier for us to stay calm, even when her beast so clearly calls for us. You see, even if her human is stubborn and scared, her wolf knows what she wants. Know what she needs to be whole and feel good.” I nodded; he was right. The bond between beasts is

Eir´s POV. “He is hiding something.” Drifta muttered in my head, and I agreed. Something was off about Toke; he didn’t seem like himself. Hearing my mother’s story was heartbreaking and admirable at the same time. A part of me that died long ago, that voice inside my head that made up excuses for her to make myself feel better, stirred in the back of my mind. It told me she had a valid reason for trying to avoid reality, that it could be understood that she drowned herself in liquor and eventually became unable to stop. But her story also made me angry. I wanted to shake my mom and yell at her. I demand she get a grip. How could she go through so much to save me and still treat me like I meant nothing more than the dog shit she stepped in? She left her friends, her new family, and my family and chose a life all alone. She decided for me to be all alone. I would have been okay with that; I would have no problem with that whatsoever. I would have accepted having only one parent, a ti