Valhalla Wolf by Constantine De Bohon by Constantine De Bohon - Read Online

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Summary

Have you ever wished your knight in shining armor would ride in from the mist under a cloak of protected shield and save you? Vicki had wished for the same thing...but her knight turned into a massive, gorgeous, Viking warrior, wielding a sword of such magnitude it dropped her to her hands and knees, literally! Ulfr the barbarian comes at her hard and fast. He is determined to brand her body and make her his own with his sizzling touch. Flames of desire ignite Vicki's deep yearning for naughty, wanton passion turned to love. Add another Hott Viking to the duo and turn up the heat. When the three are together there is fire in the furs. Hott is a blond powerhouse of steely muscle. Ulfr is a dark animalistic predator hungering to be satisfied. It is his desire to bend Vicki to his every wish. Vicki in turn, has some cravings of her own. But she soon comes to realize Ulfr isn't just some predatory myth, he's a Valhalla Wolf!
Published: Torrid Books on
ISBN: 9781611601473
List price: $3.99
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Valhalla Wolf - Constantine De Bohon

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life.

Prologue

She looked every inch the Viking warrior princess. Vicki gazed at herself, front and back, in the full-length mirror. Her hair was silky black with flowing ringlets to her mid-back, full and thick. Vicki had been told her hair was her most stunning feature, unfortunately that was the only quality she felt she possessed. She had struggled with this part of her costume—her hair. Her friends insisted she should dye her hair blond, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. Secretly she had a foreboding feeling she might end up looking like Miss Piggy—charming. A giant Viking warrior Muppet! Just what the world needed. Instead, Vicki had dyed one long streak near her bangs a stunning golden color.

Her bright blue eyes gazed back at herself critically. She scowled at her reflection. In olden days she would have been considered voluptuous, which, in her opinion, was just a kind word for ‘fat’. The fake fur she wore did nothing but emphasize her somewhat chunky ass. Her thighs were white as the snow—well what did you expect for October? And there was no way she would be caught in a bathing suit in the summer. She frowned, thinking her boobs looked fuzzy. Courtesy of her fake rabbit, bra-like top. She put her bare arms in the air and shook them; thank God they didn’t wave back. Gravity was still on her side, at least for the most part.

She stood a good five foot nine in the leather, knee-high moccasins she had made and knew she would still feel huge when she stood near all of her petite thin friends. Especially Trisha, a good friend all her life, but Vicki battled jealousy towards her ever since they turned thirteen. Trisha was like a doll, five feet, maybe one hundred pounds soaking wet and fully clothed. Her stunning hair was a white-blond. The ultimate green-eyed beauty. And so popular. To make matters worse she was incredibly sweet and generous. It was impossible not to love her. Just once Vicki wanted to be the petite one, the pretty one, the popular one. It would be wonderful to be the girl all the guys wanted to be around and pant after.

Well that ain’t happening! she said aloud and sighed.

Vicki leaned over to pick up the sword from her bed. She tested the weight. It felt so right in her hands. She loved this battered old Viking sword. It was an ancient family heirloom passed down from generation to generation. Welded together in certain places, mixing old with new. Vicki didn’t really believe it was authentic, though her father swore it was. She was nevertheless fascinated with the story that came with it. It had been crafted by one great warrior and given to another. The warrior who owned the weapon was a legend of a man who had tamed a she-wolf to be his mate in the ninth century. A creature of deep sexual desire and need. A Viking who matched her animalistic wants equally. The pair had been destined for each other.

Vicki loved the story that had been spoonfed to her over the years, a part of her ancient history. A great Viking warrior had overcome his fears and risen from adversity to quash his opponents and claim his mate from near disaster and certain death. She hefted the sword feeling thoughtful. True story or not she envied the woman her broad, stunning man, wishing she could find a warrior. She had fantasized so often about a strong-willed man who would fulfill her every yearning.

The men on campus at school didn’t interest her. Having grown up with images of huge powerful men had left the boys she dated lacking. None of them ever measured up. Vicki was beginning to wonder if any ever would. Vicki went to bed dreaming of warriors wielding massive swords. Warriors with bulging muscles and skills that would tantalize in bed as well as out of it. She fantasized about heated romps on soft mounds of furs. Her imagery was so vivid she could almost taste and smell the smoke from a crackling hearth as her lover fulfilled her every desire. She would wake with her heart pounding in her breast, covered in sweat and her legs trembling. She yearned for something. Each time her phantom lover came, the feelings grew stronger, until she thought she would go crazy.

When her father had taught her to duel she had mistakenly thought a few guys would get a kick out of her skill. Especially the ones where she practiced. They didn’t. Most brushed her off. On reflection, she surmised that perhaps a woman skillfully slinging a sharp object might be less than attractive. More so to the men whom she bested.

What she wouldn’t give to meet a man who could not only admire her skill, but test her limits. A man who wasn’t afraid of a little competition. Except in the bedroom. Though inexperienced, she already knew the man for her had to be a tiger in bed. He would have to be to match up to the mental image in her mind of her hero. She wanted nothing short of a man who could tame a she-wolf.

Well that ain’t happening either, she said aloud. Well, Vicki, you can either stand here not admiring yourself, or, go to the frat party, have a few drinks and have a good time.

Vicki slipped the sword into a long sheath and slung it over her shoulder. She cocked her head to the side, gave herself one last critical look, shrugged and left her room. Her parents were watching TV in the living room and she paused to say goodnight.

Don’t lose that sword! her dad managed to yell after her as she left.

I’ll hold it like an extension of myself, she promised and rolled her eyes.

Vicki shivered when she walked onto the sidewalk. She pulled her fake fur cloak tightly around her shoulders. It was a dark night. Every other light on the street was out, but a full moon shone high in the sky. The evening was sprinkled with thousands of stars. It was nearing nine o’clock and almost all the little trick-or-treaters were home with a sugar high about this time. Vicki walked into the forest near her home. She took a shortcut to the party being held at a friend’s house. She didn’t walk the well-traveled path for long before remembering she had forgotten her camera.

Damn, she swore aloud. Trisha had begged her to bring it; she said she had a special surprise for her.

Should she go back for it? Taking a deep breath and grumbling with annoyance she thought yes, she had better go and get it; Trisha’s surprises were always over the top. She turned and frowned at the heavy fog that had crept up behind her like some type of seedy character.

Where the hell did this come from? she muttered.

Vicki walked slowly as the mist swirled in heavier. Before long it was impossible to see in the direction before her and she lost the trail she had been on. She turned, thinking it best to just forget the camera and try and make it to the party. But turning did no good. The thick vapors hung and twirled in the air all around her and she choked on the enveloping dampness. The rolling billows slipped around her body. Vapors slid into her nose and she puffed and coughed. Cool mist caressed her back where her sword hung.

The fog was everywhere at once. Even the full moon became elusive. Her feet tripped on the slick roots and wet leaves beneath her. Her hands clutched at the many gnarled trees that looked like something out of a Grimm’s fairytale. She never remembered these woods looking so spooky. She shivered with the thought. It was Halloween after all; what was in the mist, Ichabod Crane? The headless horseman? The tooth fairy? The moment the thought OF vampires and werewolves popped into her head she broke out in a cold sweat.

Vicki gave herself a shake and scowled at her thoughts. She was a strong woman; she had nothing to be afraid of. Peering intently before her she spotted what appeared to be an opening in the fog and with relief she walked towards it. She stumbled through to the clearing and breathed a sigh of grateful air when she noticed she wasn’t alone; a form was a small distance away. She thought it must be someone else taking a shortcut to the party. The form grew larger as it approached until it became a huge shadow moving towards her from the mist in the opposite direction. She tensed in apprehension, none of her and Trisha’s friends were this large. Goose bumps dotted her arms and the hairs tingled at the nape of her neck. Without thinking, her sword found its way into both her unsteady hands. She waved it back and forth, wanting whoever this was to understand she meant business.

When the mist cleared, Vicki’s mouth dropped open. A mountain of a man stood before her. She was amazed. The huge brute had to be at least six foot four or maybe even taller. He was solid muscle, bare-chested and had tree trunk-sized arms for limbs. For the first time in many years Vicki felt dainty. She also felt afraid. The man held his own massive sword and it was pointed in her direction, the silver tip gleamed ominously. The scowl he wore on his face made her want to run shrieking in terror.

You are mine, Valkyrie, he declared in a deep triumphant voice.

He then threw back his head and howled a blood-curdling sound to the now semi-visible half-shielded moon. Terrified, Vicki screamed.

Chapter 1

If you want to try and frighten me, you had best use another battle cry, the man stated, his position relaxed and he suddenly burst out laughing.

Vicki’s arms and legs were dotted with fresh goose bumps. The fine hairs on the back of her neck that had tingled were now standing at attention like soldiers. The man before her was grinning and Vicki grew angry.

Very funny, she snapped.

How do you expect to best me with that wee little sword? he said, his amusement obviously growing.

Did Trisha put you up to this? she demanded. She was furious as hell with her friend’s joke. The creep before her had actually scared her. The guy in front of her was obviously the ‘something special’ her friend had cooked up. There was a door prize for the best costumed couple. The man was dressed in fur and leather hide and looked every inch a powerhouse Viking warrior, no doubt to match her costume. He had black as night shoulder-length hair and was beyond gorgeous. No doubt he was her date for the evening. Trisha was always saying she needed to get laid by a delicious, huge, hunky barbarian type, who would make her feel all womanly.

I know of no Trisha, he replied. You will come with me, now.

His voice was rough and deep, a commanding, and very dominating and Vicki had to admit he played his character well. She wondered if he was an actor Trisha had paid. Trisha certainly had the money, so it was a feasible assumption. Vicki relaxed knowing she was in no danger.

All right, funny man, how do we get out of here? she asked and peered through the mist that seemed to be flanking them.

You yield then? he asked.

Vicki centered her direct gaze back onto him. She stood there shivering with cold and very much in need of a drink after almost having the wits scared out of her.

Yes, fine, I yield. But only if you have something for me to drink. She haughtily eyed the bulging primitive leather. It was a good touch to his costume.

I will not bargain with a captive.

Captive? I don’t know what you have in mind, but I’m guessing Trisha didn’t pay you that much. Buddy, you need to get out more.

I am not Buddy, my name is Ulfr.

Well, Wolf, I’m Vicki Valhalla, as you must know.

He frowned. Little Valkyrie from Valhalla, do you or do you not yield? he demanded.

Little.

She frowned back. Vicki hadn’t been called ‘little’ in ages. She wondered for a second if he was teasing her. She wondered if Trisha had said something. But she supposed compared to this walking mountain she was in fact small. What an interesting concept. Her sword rose. He wants to role-play, does he? Fine!

Hand over the flask or die, weak barbarian male.

The man’s sword lifted to meet hers immediately. You should rethink this, he cautioned.

Why? she said saucily. I’m a Valkyrie from Valhalla, after all, you puny warrior. Feel my wrath.

She laughed when her sword clashed with his and he stumbled back a small step in surprise.

This is not supposed to happen, he declared, looking genuinely concerned.

Oh relax, I’m not really going to hurt you, she chided with some disgust. Why are all the biggest men the biggest sucks?

Her sword again struck his playfully. She moved forward as he continued to retreat. The look on his face was priceless. This is fun. Maybe Trisha knew what she needed after all. He parlayed each of her hits. He wasn’t bad. She was by no means an expert swordswoman, but she could hold her own in duels. Her father had taught her. She laughed, thinking all her other friends took ballet, while she went dueling with Daddy. But she hadn’t minded. It was part of her Viking heritage after all and something she was proud of.

The man before her was very good. She could tell each rise and fall of his huge blade was only in defense of himself, since he had yet to return any hit. He really was a good actor. He seemed to be studying her.

You should not have taken up arms against me. When I win this fight you will give yourself to me willingly and come back as my captive. Yield to me now and I will go easier on you, he said.

His deep voice made her smile with his hint of a threat. She might actually let this guy have her he was so damned hot and sexy.

If you want me you’re gonna have to take me, she taunted and waved her sword in his face.

He looked at her grimly. So be it, little Valkyrie. One warning was enough, he said. He then yelled that blood-curdling howl of his again.

Vicki winced at the roar he made and shivered. She actually felt hot between her legs; this was such a turn-on. This was the most Halloween fun she had ever had. She smiled widely as the gorgeous