Losing It: A Collection of VCards (21 page)

The Ultimate Prize

by S.T. Bende

An extended scene from
ELSKER
(The Elsker Saga #1)

In ELSKER, eighteen-year-old Kristia Tostenson moves from her one-stoplight Oregon town to Cardiff University in Wales. She falls in love with Ull Myhr, but her new boyfriend isn’t exactly what she was expecting. His cashmere sweaters and old-world charm mask the warrior who has spent an eternity fighting just to exist. Ull is an honest-to-goodness Norse god—an immortal assassin, tasked with protecting the realms as the God of Winter. He’s marked for death, and Asgardian law prohibits him from dating a mortal. And his antiquated sense of decency is keeping him from doing anything before marriage that he considers inappropriate, and Kristia considers . . . well . . . fun. Here, a frustrated Kristia finally gets exactly what she wants out of her Norse god boyfriend . . . even if it is only in her dreams. 

***

Once my roommates were asleep, I closed the door to my room and booted up my laptop. I’d left Ull’s country house, Ýdalir, with more questions than answers, thanks to the discovery that my boyfriend was an actual god
—
an Asgardian assassin no less. I knew he’d given me all the information he was willing to share for now, so I felt only a little guilty turning to the Internet for answers.

Google did not disappoint. I typed in “Norse gods” and came up with a slew of websites relaying the stories Mormor told me as a child. There was Sif, the Warrior Goddess of Beauty. And Thor, all-powerful with his mighty Mjölnir. Odin was there in his eye patch and even Balder was represented, bearing a masculine resemblance to our own Lady Justice. Each god had a story to tell, and for an hour, I lost myself in their journeys. How different this studying was, knowing these myths were about real people.

Next, I entered “Ull Myhr” and came up with nothing, so I dropped the Myhr and got a whole range of pages. I found everything from some ski festival in Breckenridge honoring the snow god, to a runic drawing of a man on old-fashioned skis
—
or were they skates?
—
crossing a river. There were academic papers detailing Ull’s parentage, and even a blurb about his rumored assassination by Danes after taking over for Odin. According to the Internet everything Ull had told me about himself was true. But I’d known that much. What I didn’t know was how he fared at Ragnarok.

I switched gears, searching for Ragnarok. Everything I found about the Norse apocalypse was pretty consistent with what Mormor and Professor Carnicke had preached. The realms would turn on Asgard, with serpents and wolves and every imaginable beast attacking the gods and destroying the earth. Nearly all the gods would die horrible deaths, with an unnamed handful either surviving or being reborn.

Well that was no help. I wanted names. I wanted to see that Ull was going to live. I clicked the next link, then the next, but nothing could tell me who might survive. Ull wasn’t even mentioned in the Ragnarok articles. For the first time in my life, the Internet had failed to provide me with the information I needed.

I closed the computer and lay my cheek against its casing. None of this made any sense. According to Google, my highly accredited University course, and every story I’d ever been told, Ragnarok already happened. The earth was reborn from the aftermath, and descendents of the survivors repopulated the planet. So why was Ull talking like the apocalypse was some looming threat, a to-be-determined gala of destruction? Wasn’t it in the past? Obviously, I didn’t know everything about the End of the World. And neither did the Internet. Problem was, I didn’t have anyone else to ask. Ull was the only god I knew, and I wasn’t about to question him on what I knew was a very sensitive issue. I crawled into bed and hoped some rest would slow the fears gnawing at my brain.

***

My night was quiet, but my sleep was fitful. Usually, my dreams were filled with visions of Ragnarok or creepy Elf Man or other scary things, but tonight I replayed my last night at Ýdalir. The first part of my dream played out the way it had in real life; Ull sat beside me on the couch and held my hands as he told me about his job as the Norse God of Winter. And even though I could have listened to him talk forever, it was late and I was exhausted. I stifled a yawn as Ull gave a knowing glance.

“I am sorry Kristia, I forget myself. You must sleep.”

“You, uh, mustn’t sleep?” I asked, my dream-voice echoing the formality of his words. I should have guessed that he was more than mortal. His language gave him away
—
nobody in their twenties in
this
century was so proper.

“Well, yes I must sleep sometimes. I just need far less than you do to function. Immortal bodies are exceptionally efficient.” He didn’t say anything else on the subject, just walked me to my room and took my face in his hands. “
God natt
, Kristia Tostenson,” he murmured. I eyed him warily, both hopeful and anxious to repeat
that kiss—
the one that had nearly been the end of me. But Ull declined my romantic overture, just as he had in real life, instead bending to kiss me chastely with the softest lips imaginable.

“Soon enough.” He touched my cheek as he leaned in to whisper in my ear. I caught a hint of the faintly woodsy smell that was so delicious I leaned in, involuntarily. “I hope you have beautiful dreams,” he murmured as he started to walk down the hallway with one last glance over his broad shoulder.

In reality, I’d stood in my bedroom doorway as he walked away. Heat had flooded my cheeks and I’d snapped my jaw shut before Ull could notice my gawking. But in my dream, I grabbed Ull’s arm and pulled him back. I tilted my head and stuck out my lower lip.

“Ull.” My pout was seriously unladylike. “It’s just one more kiss. What’s the big deal?”

“No, Kristia,” Ull demurred. “You have to understand.”

“Oh, I understand all right.” I took a step closer, and inhaled the woodsy scent of the man whose stubbornness was no match for my hormones. I’d behaved myself for eighteen years, but no amount of etiquette training could hold a candle to my feelings for Ull. I wanted him. Now. And propriety be darned; I was going to have him. “I understand that you kissed me, and now you’re afraid you’ll lose control and do something crazy. Is that right?” I trailed a finger through his thick hair, down his jaw, and along the line of his torso, resting my palm flat against his abs.

Oh hot bejeebus, his abs were hard.

“That is correct.” Ull spoke softly. His eyes positively burned with longing.

“Good,” I whispered into his ear. “I want you to do something crazy.” I took another step, and he wrapped an arm around my waist. “Please, Ull. Just another minute. Then I swear I’ll leave you alone. I’ll be good, I promise.”

“
Dritt
,” Ull swore. He lowered his face to mine, kissing me with such determination I lost all sense of time and space. “I cannot do this anymore,” he moaned, locking his arms around me so my hands were pinned to my sides. He pressed his chest against mine, backing me into the guest room so quickly I would have tripped without the massive deity holding me tight.

“Ull!” I gasped as his teeth raked my neck. I hadn’t expected my inexperienced seduction to actually
work
. Ull was so stubborn, so adorably archaic
—
I’d expected him to cling to his outdated principles like moss to a sequoia in rainy season.

Apparently I didn’t know the God of Winter as well as I’d thought I did.

“I am tired of doing the right thing,” Ull growled, not slowing from his determined trajectory toward the bed. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Yes. Oh God, yes.

“Mmm-hmm,” I murmured, turning my head to give Ull better access. His lips moved downward, kissing a fiery trail along the neckline of my sweater. As he neared the deep
V
of my top, I shivered.

“You positive?” Ull raised his head to look me in the eye. The break in contact was almost painful.

“Ull. If you don’t make love to me right this minute, I might actually die.”

The corner of Ull’s mouth turned up in a half smile. “Die?”

“Die,” I confirmed.

Ull raised one eyebrow. “A little dramatic, would you say?”

“Die,” I repeated.

Ull released my arms and traced a light line along my ribcage, sweeping inward so his knuckles grazed my chest. The tremor that wracked my body made my knees give out, and Ull caught me as I fell. “Well, sweetheart. We cannot have you dying on me, now can we?”

I shook my head. Ull set me on my feet and stared me down.

“You are absolutely positive you
—
”

“Just kiss me already.” I twined my fingers in Ull’s hair and pulled his face to mine. He let out a growl and wrapped his fingers around my hips, hiking me up so I was pressed against him. I wrapped my legs around his waist and held on tight. I had to. Ull was moving with inhuman speed, racing right past the bed. He wrapped his arms around my body, cradling me as we crashed into the wall. I moaned as the impact pressed him against me, the full weight of his six-foot, five-inch frame melding against my considerably smaller one. His chest was hard against mine, and his arms held me close as he kissed me with desperation, as if his very existence depended on consuming me at that very moment.

Finally
.

“Ull.” I sighed as he pressed his hips against me, bracing me between his body and the wall. He tugged at the bottom of my sweater, and I raised my arms, letting him pull the fabric over my head. He crushed his mouth against mine as he threw my top over his shoulder. His hands moved over my stomach in a frenzy, pausing just before he reached the lace of my bra.

“May I?” He didn’t break our kiss as he spoke. The words vibrated against my lips, his deep baritone resonating through me.

“Yes,” I panted, clawing at his sweater. I didn’t want anything separating us
—
not even cashmere.

Ull withdrew his hands and wrenched his mouth away from mine just long enough to remove his sweater. My jaw fell slack as I took in the expanse of bare skin. Taut muscles stretched across his torso, dipping where his chest met his shoulder. I didn’t have to look down to know he had a veritable washboard surrounding his belly button; his abs felt rock hard against the skin of my stomach. And his arms . . . I’d never seen anything look so formidable and so enticing at the same time.

Except for Ull’s eyes. Right then he was staring me down with a hunger that would have made Red Riding Hood nervous. In that moment he was every bit the predatory assassin I knew him to be.

And I was about to become his prey.

“Kristia,” Ull growled again. His hands returned to their determined trajectory. He stroked the lace of my bra with the backs of his fingers, sending another tremor through my torso. At the movement, his eyes rolled closed and he turned his hands over, placing his palms over my bra. He squeezed lightly and a moan escaped his lips, the vibration of his voice making me shiver.

“Please,” I begged, watching as his eyes flew open.

“Please what?” He assessed me through hooded lids.

I kept my voice to a whisper. “Make me yours.”

Ull’s eyes slowly focused, and he cupped my behind as he wrenched our bodies away from the wall. He dove for the bed, cradling my body to shield me from the impact. He rolled to his side and undid the button of my jeans, removing them, and his own, before I had a chance to catch my breath. Then he rolled so he was on top of me, framing me between two positively massive forearms.

“You are mine, Kristia Tostenson. Every last inch of you.” The words were commanding, possessive, and left absolutely no room for argument. I should have been intimidated, lying practically naked, about to give my virginity to a living, breathing, Nordic deity. But as intense as this moment was, I couldn’t think of anything but Ull’s skin on mine, his hands caressing my cheeks, and the absolute adoration in his eyes as he claimed me as his own.