Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 125077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
They needed each other, I realized with sudden, perfect clarity. And I could make it happen, if I could use my power correctly.
“I’m going to give you my seed in your little bottom, now,” Leo Marmareus grunted, above me. “And then you’re going to tell me who Sven Hallstrom really is.”
CHAPTER 42
Mary
The vision shattered like ice beneath the weight of Marmareus’ words, sending me crashing back into the brutal reality of my body. I gasped, disoriented by the abrupt transition from the cosmic vastness of Yggdrasil to the confines of the cell, to the burning stretch of my anus around Marmareus’ invading cock.
“No,” I whispered, the word barely audible even to my own ears. “No, you can’t know…”
But he had said Sven’s name. He knew. Somehow, he knew.
Oh, no. It had been me. I had said Sven’s name myself.
Marmareus laughed, a dark, knowing sound that sent chills racing along my spine. His hips moved with deliberate slowness, pushing his cock deeper into my bottom, claiming that most intimate territory with ruthless efficiency. Each incremental advance sent shockwaves of sensation radiating through my trembling body.
“Your face when you climax is quite revealing, Mary,” he murmured, his breath hot against my ear as he leaned over me. “I’ve seen that same expression—that same mixture of ecstasy and revelation—on the faces of highly trained operatives of the Order of Ostia. Not Columbae—more advanced girls, nuptae, agnae, and captae as we call them.”
My heart stuttered in my chest. He knew of my training. He understood something of what I was.
“I don’t—” I began, but my protest dissolved into a strangled moan as Marmareus seated himself fully inside me, his hips flush against my punished bottom. The fullness was overwhelming, the burn transforming into a strange, insistent pleasure that made me push back against him even in my dismay.
Suddenly, a beep of a kind I hadn’t heard came from above me—from Marmareus’ handheld, I realized. I heard him curse and felt him withdraw from me, the sudden emptiness making me gasp. From behind me came the sound of him zipping up his trousers, the metallic rasp somehow louder than it should have been in the stone cell.
“What is it?” he barked into his handheld, his voice sharp with irritation. “This had better be important.”
I remained frozen in position, my body still bent and bound between the posts, my bottom throbbing from his invasion, my pussy clenching with unfulfilled need. I strained to hear the response from the device, catching only fragments: “…priority alert… surveillance… CDG to JFK…”
Charles de Gaulle to John F. Kennedy. Paris to New York. A flight. Someone was coming.
Marmareus’ tone shifted instantly, his voice dropping to a calmer, more controlled register. “I see. Thank you for the notification. Have a team ready at Terminal One. No, I’ll handle the briefing personally.”
My heart raced as I processed what I’d heard. Someone important was arriving—someone who warranted interrupting Marmareus in the middle of what he’d clearly been enjoying. Someone from Paris. Could it be…?
No, I couldn’t allow myself that hope, despite what I had felt in my journey to the tree. It was too dangerous, too painful if I was wrong.
Marmareus walked into my field of vision, his face composed once more into that mask of calm authority. He looked down at me, still bound and exposed.
“Well, whoever Sven Hallstrom is, he’s about to board a flight from Paris to New York,” he told me, as I did everything in my power to keep my face blank and impassive.
“He and his associate,” Marmareus continued in a grim tone, “did a good job with their forged identification, but we’re just a bit ahead of the encryption they used.”
I stared up at Marmareus, my mind racing frantically. My lips parted, but no sound emerged. The facts of my situation crashed over me like a wave, threatening to drown me in its implications. Sven was coming for me—my true master, my Herra, the man who had opened me to my power as a völva. And Marmareus knew it, even if he didn’t know what it truly meant.
“Tell me about Sven Hallstrom,” Marmareus demanded, his voice deceptively soft. He crouched beside me, his face level with mine, those dark eyes boring into me with an intensity that made me tremble. “Tell me about the organization he clearly belongs to—the one I’m guessing you also belong to, Columba.”
I felt balanced on a knife’s edge, teetering between two abysses. If I spoke, I might betray Sven, the Sons of Odin, everything I had been trained to protect. If I remained silent, I risked punishment that might break me anyway, that might destroy any chance of bringing these two forces together as I had seen in my vision.
“I don’t…” I began, then faltered. “I can’t…”
Marmareus’ expression hardened. He reached out, gripping my chin firmly between his thumb and forefinger, forcing me to maintain eye contact.