Bride of Grendel: A Viking Lore Erotic Tale (Viking Lore Erotic Tales Book 2) Read Online Free Page A

shadows, she gasped. It was easily eight feet tall, with huge shoulders, thick, muscled arms, and legs like tree trunks. The light was too dim to see its features clearly, but its eyes glowed green, flashing around the hall. It moved forward down the center, glaring at the sleeping warriors to either side. She was struck, strangely, by how gracefully the monster moved, swiftly and silently. It must have been dragging its claws along the exterior walls, intentionally creating that noise that had woken her before.
                  Halfway down the length of the room, Grendel’s eyes finally landed on Sigrun. The monster paused, as though appraising her. Their eyes locked. Her breath was coming quickly, but she refused to be afraid, refused to seem afraid. Grendel snorted lightly. Then he looked around the room and let out a massive roar. It was a bloodcurdling sound, and the warriors awoke in confusion. Sigrun, remarkably, found herself laughing. The monster wanted to make sure he had an audience, wanted to make sure the warriors did not sleep through his theft of their queen. It was a short laugh, though.
                  Once he had gotten everyone’s attention, Grendel bounded to the dais and swept Sigrun from her seat. His claws dug into her arms as he lifted her up and swung her over his shoulder, but they did not break flesh. From the corner of her vision, she saw Unferth charging toward Grendel, swinging his sword. He hacked at the monster’s side, but the sword bounced off without leaving a mark. Grendel knocked Unferth away. Sigrun lifted herself up, bracing herself against Grendel’s back — his one arm was wrapped firmly around her legs, holding her close against him — so that she could see. While Grendel carried her back through the hall and towards the doors, Unferth crouched by the dais, watching, not moving again.
     
                  Free of the hall, past the other buildings and away into the woods, Grendel swung Sigrun off his shoulder and carried her cradled in his arms. He moved quickly and agilely through the forest, out across an open space of moors and over a treacherous, craggy region where winding trails twisted down steep rock faces to a dark, evil-looking lake. She knew that the night’s darkness did not help the prospect, but she doubted that it looked any less forbidding in the daylight. They reached the shore of the lake, a narrow stretch of rocky shelf where cliff and water met. Grendel set her down. Dark water lapped at their feet. Now what? He wrapped one great arm around her, holding her tightly to his side, lifting her up onto her toes.
                  She looked up at his face. She could see it more clearly now in the moonlight. It was almost human, but not quite. The mouth was a little too broad, the nose too flat, almost muzzle-like, but also not quite. The skin seemed leathery, the hair — fur or hair? too hard to tell — covered more of his cheeks than any man’s beard would. The ears were pointed. When he opened his mouth slightly, she saw that the teeth were sharp. He was looking at the water. He looked down at her, then looked to the water again, and then took a breath. She realized with a slight shock that they were going to go into the lake.
                  She took a deep breath just as Grendel jumped in.
                  It was so dark, she nearly panicked. It was also very, very cold. She thought she might die, if not by drowning, then from the shock of the cold water, but she also found herself wanting very much to live. Grendel was swimming strongly and steadily toward something. She felt something brush past her in the water, and she held tighter, though Grendel’s grip on her was more than secure. She had closed her eyes, but as her lungs began to strain, she opened them again and saw, miraculously, a light glowing just ahead. The light also revealed the shapes of the sea creatures brushing past,