The Beast of Salt (Saga of the Gods #1)

28. Sigvid

28

SIGVID

November 7th, Year 100, 9th Era

Blackwood Inn, Salt Province

S igvid tosses his belt on the bed with a satisfied upturn of his lips. He nurses a raging hard-on from watching her squirm against the rope.

Those little wrists fighting against the restraint are everything he has ever wanted to see. Her bright orbs begging him to end the torment on her most sensitive parts only serve to stir his loins to take her earlier than he planned.

But he has more in store.

“How many strikes is that, Avina?”

A sinister splash of black and blue bruises blanket her backside.

Look at those gorgeous marks of ownership. I am just getting started. You will think twice before questioning me.

Sobs and incoherent muttering are her breathy reply. She is congested with tears, having sustained far more than he thought her capable.

“Three hundred and fifteen, Avina.”

To think I only expected her to take one hundred lashes .

His cock strains against his pants from the power her whimpers have over his impulse. He groans heavily, imagining sliding between her warm cheeks and taking her ass. His dominance over her builds in him a power stronger than controlling all his Drengr and the Salt Army combined.

“Good girl,” he reaches between her legs, feeling her wetness and arousing a needy moan. “I believe you enjoy the leather on your skin.” His fingers tangle in her damp hair.

Tilting her head back, he looks down into her hazy blues, roving around the room. “Do you want more?”

“Y-yes.” She mutters.

“Fucking beg for it, whore.”

“Please, hurt me, Sigvid!”

He removes a second belt from his dresser and wraps the leather around the delicate column of her neck until her breath hitches. While stealing the very air she breathes, his dominant hand resumes the assault on her behind. The sound of his hand spanking her backside and her garbling gasps as she loses her air supply is the only music he could ever desire.

When he releases the belt around her neck, she sputters, and her chest heaves the life he held just out of her grasp.

“That is my good girl.” His praise earns him a faint smile. “Who is your master?” He growls into her ear.

He continues choking her, ever careful to watch her expression.

Unable to stave off the yearning anymore, he plunges two fingers inside her pussy, abandoning the onslaught of her gorgeous, bruising cheeks. He cinches the other belt around her neck as he thrusts his fingers so roughly her eyes roll back into her head.

“I asked, who is your master?”

Abandon yourself to me, Timber Queen! Tell me who fucking owns your godsdamn holes!

“You are! Sigvid!” Her strained groans draw out a primal urge to ravage her.

“Fuck!” He growls low in her ear while he removes his fingers and withdrawals his member, rubbing it between the softness of her legs .

“Please!” She begs, her voice strangled through the belt he left constricted around her neck.

He discards the leather, leaving her gasping.

“Not yet.” He growls.

He rubs his cock between her slick lips, enjoying the feeling of her wetness. His fingers roam along her shivering side until he meets her neck. Wrapping his rough hand around her column, he squeezes until she inhales sharply. His other hand fondles her breasts before dipping down to her swollen sweet spot.

He slides his member into her wetness from behind while he rubs her plump clit. His hold on her neck tightens until he begins to steal her breath again.

“Oh, fuck!” Her screaming groan rings in his ears and is vicious enough to be heard back in Toftlund.

Tears roll down her cheeks as she sobs his name through her convulsing orgasm.

Her voice wavers over his name as if it pains her to call out for him.

Although he can discern her words, she loses much of her diction. He notices her legs quivering. Soon, she will no longer be able to stand on her own.

“You got off quickly, little one.” He licks the tears from her cheeks. “But I am not done with you yet. We are going to play a game. I am going to continue pleasuring you until you cum for me again and again until you succumb to the darkness.”

He grabs her chin, leaning her head back to tower over her short form. Her gaze meets his with a mixture of fear and arousal.

I did not think this little vixen could arouse me anymore. I did not believe owning her would wreck me like this.

He grunts as the head of his cock strokes along her soft lips before sliding inside her fucking tight cunt. As he pounds against the soft tissue that will push her over the edge, he tickles her clit.

“I want you to finish again, my little Queen.” He nibbles her ear lobe. “Milk my cock with that tight fucking pussy.”

It's not long before her walls collapse around him, melding with her sobs of release. Unintelligible words ramble from her mouth .

Sigvid does not stop his rhythm against the luscious spot up inside. Her sobs hold a cadence of begging, even if her words are nonsensical.

“No, we are not stopping yet.”

He pulls the rope tighter, forcing Avina on her tiptoes. “That is my good whore, I want you screaming.”

He continues to wreck her as hard as he can. His hand constricts on her beautiful neck while his throbbing cock is buried deep at the hilt.

This time, his fingers barely reach her engorged clit before she is trembling against him, crying out as she surrenders to his machinations.

“I am proud of you, my little Queen. Taking everything I can give you. Such a delicious fucking slut.”

She babbles into his chest, leaving tear stains on his black tunic. His lips respond, pressing gently to her sweaty forehead.

“Up, Avina!” His cock resumes the unrelenting thrusts inside her.

He positions himself to watch her expressions shift. Her features scrunch together as sweat trickles over her forehead.

Yes, little one, control the pain.

He dips down, commanding his tongue over her mouth. She gives herself over to the firm possession of his lips. Her feral grunts fill his mouth as she shudders around him again.

That is the loss of all his self-control.

The feeling of this woman falling apart is enough to confound his senses!

He pumps his seed into her, unsure if he will ever stop.

Only when their combined cum drips out her pussy does he remove himself. Stepping away, he sees her eyes are closed, having lost consciousness. Her body leans to the side, losing the ability to hold herself upright.

Immediately, he loosens the rope. His arms cradle Avina’s limp body against his chest as he lays her on the bed. Once he cleans the stickiness between her thighs and returns the rope to his dresser, he sits at her side.

Sigvid watches the slow rise and fall of her chest. Although his drafty home does not disturb him, he still drapes a thick fur blanket over her naked form.

He leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to her lips.

In the quiet of the night, he can appreciate her light snores and the slight imperfections in her features.

Why has it taken him so long to realize she holds his mind, body, and soul in her grasp?

There is no deal.

You are staying with me until the moment you embrace your Goddess. I cannot bear the thought of another man touching you. Of you whimpering under someone else’s dominance. Everything about you is intoxicating. You are a godsdamn drug invading my senses.

It is all of you. I need your gorgeous smile and your heavy tits, your beautiful mind, and your tight cunt.

You are mine.

November 8th, Year 100, 9th Era

Toftlund City, Salt Province

T he sun has barely crested the horizon when Hest’s hooves clack upon the cobblestone. Sigvid lays a hand against Avina’s stomach to keep her secure on the horse as they enter Toftlund.

Waking up to his marks on her body has been the best start to his morning in months.

Owning her has already become intoxicating.

Throughout their morning, he does not attempt to conceal his obvious enjoyment at her strains to lift even the lightest objects. Thora grew murderous when Avina dropped and shattered the jar of apple butter that Thora passed. She must have startled herself, twisting on the chair when she rubbed one of the nastier bruises. For that, he owed Thora a new jar of her favorite treat.

Worth it.

He is pleased in his search through the Blackwood storage room to find a long-sleeved jet-black gown adorned with gold-inlaid runic designs along the seams. Knowing the Queen of Timber bore bruises from his hand underneath a dress in the Salt style has him straining his trousers.

“Where are we headed?” she asks for the third time since they left home. It is not that their destination is a secret, but he thoroughly enjoys not instantly indulging her.

“It is the house of one of my Drengr,” he admits. “I want confirmation of what happened to Sven before we journey to the aqueducts.”

One of the larger homes built from solid timber and bearing the weather of age rises along the main street. He helps her dismount. The sudden shift in her seat paints a gruesome wince on her face.

“Still hurting?”

It brings me much pleasure to know you suffer for me.

Avina’s head twists to glower at him silently.

His smile widens.

They climb the worn, wooden steps to a yellow front door. Before Sigvid can pull on the knocker, it creaks open, revealing a disheveled Kar draped in a gray robe and ragged brown trousers.

“My Prince? Is there something I can assist with?” Kar opens the door to reveal his wife, Ingirid, bustling around a large hearth where no less than half a dozen children argue over benign topics with plates stacked with bacon and eggs.

“Good morning, Kar,” Sigvid cringes as he watches the children running about uncontrolled, failing to keep a straight face at the scene. He motions for them to move to a side room.

“I wanted to ask you about Sven. I know he has been missing. What happened?”

Kar’s gaze narrows when Avina follows them into the quieter room. Judging by the discarded toys, it is a bedroom shared by two of his children.

“You may want to have a seat.” Kar moves to a rickety rocking chair and settles in.

Sigvid perches on one of the two beds while Avina sinks onto the other bed, whimpering with soft “oohs” as her bum settles onto the mattress.

For a moment, Kar’s brow furrows at her discomfort, and then he shakes his head and begins. “After the Timber Queen,” he shoots a look of discontent at Avina, who, to her credit, does not flinch, “forced you to the Arena. Many fought tooth and nail to comprehend how someone could sell you into the fighting ring. Sven should have been training to be a Drengr, not roughing up couriers seeking answers.”

The chair creaks under Kar’s weight. “Eventually, he came home with a letter clutched in his hand. Refused to tell me what he found. He was furious. I confronted, and we fought.” He hangs his head. “He broke my nose, and I busted his lip. Sven left and never came home.”

“You must not blame yourself. Sven made his choices, but we will find him.” Avina leans toward Kar, compassion dancing in her bright eyes.

Kar grinds his teeth even if her words reach his softening gaze.

“Do you know where he was heading? That could give us a place to start.” Sigvid stands.

Kar does not answer immediately. If anything, he shifts uncomfortably. “To see King Thrain.”

Fucking Thrain.

“Did anyone have a reason to harm Sven?”

Kar shakes his head. “You knew the boy. A damned ray of sunshine to anyone who met him. We were shocked to hear he was torturing messengers, but he was determined to prove himself.”

Sven, what did you get yourself into?

“Thank you for the information, Kar.” Sigvid slides his hand along Avina’s lower back and guides her to the door. He pauses before reaching the entry, eyeing the long grainy table beside the hearth full of mead bottles.

“Kar? Are you hosting a gathering?” He plucks a full bottle and inspects the familiar shape. “At least you are serving good Salt mead.”

Kar seizes the bottle and sets it back down. “These are filled with water for our elderly neighbors. They lack the stamina to climb Fjell for freshwater like my boys.”

Oh shit.

“Well, that explains why everyone has been drunk since I arrived. How bad is this water situation? ”

“Completely undrinkable. We lost a couple of people due to the contamination.”

“Thanks, old friend, I will handle this.” Sigvid leads Avina out the door.

He pauses on the street, staring at the men and women passed out in everything from flower beds to household steps.

It is barely morning.

“Alright, we need to deal with the water problem immediately. Everyone is drunk.”

“And Sven?” She tugs the wool cloak around her chest.

“If he has been missing for a couple of weeks after confronting my brother,” Sigvid shakes his head, “it is unlikely he is still alive.” He watches a man fall drunkenly into a pile of snow. “Priority is solving the corrupted water supply.”

“Where is the source?”

He points up the craggy slope to a snow-capped peak where the runoff from the ice and snow flows into a river. It is not a long walk up the mountainside, but it will take them all the available sunlight to make it up and back down.

“A jaunt up Fjell Mountain,” he gestures to the distant looming mountain. “We constructed a dam that filters the mountain water and disburses into the aqueducts.”

“I don’t suppose Hest wants to make the journey with us.” She laughs, but there is a nervous edge.

“The path twists too hard for him. We will go on foot. Besides, I want to examine the water’s path as we walk.” He looks up the mountain and lets out a sigh. “We should start moving.”

November 8th, Year 100, 9th Era

Fjell Mountain, Salt Province

“ Y ou’re not answering me.” Avina’s impatience is evident.

Sigvid looks up at the trees .

Why did I bring her? She wants to bog us down with all these questions I do not wish to answer.

“Ask again.”

She huffs. “Did you know it was me? At my engagement party to Rendel?” She stumbles as her boot snags on a rock again.

“How did you manage to trip again? That is the fourth time in ten strides.” Sigvid grumbles as he snaps a branch under his boot.

They trudge alongside a cliff face with the river running at the bottom of a shallow canyon. Eventually, the geography will shift, and the river will level out with the path.

“How could I have known you were the princess about to marry Rendel?” He finally answers. “I was investigating Ceowald’s study when someone interrupted me.”

If only you had shared your name and the type of man Rendel was.

“But why were you in there to begin with?” Her tone suggests she will not relinquish this line of questioning. “You once said my father took something irreplaceable from you. Did you mean your father? About his murder?” She pauses, bent over with her hands resting on her thighs.

The frigid air and higher altitude are getting to him, too. He pauses on a stump to regain his breath before speaking. “Yes, I searched his desk to find information about what transpired that evening when my father fell from the high garden.”

She leans against a boulder with beads of sweat forming along her forehead. “Did you find anything interesting that night?”

“I did not have enough time to look. Again, I was interrupted by a princess.” He undresses her with his eyes, their heated touch still burning in his mind after all this time. “I should have taken you on that desk.”

“You mean, had my cousin not been such a prick?” Her rhetorical question holds a sharp edge—a warning for him to tread carefully.

“If he had not disrupted us, yes.” A crooked smile forms on his lips as she meets his gaze.

“Even knowing who I am?” She turns her head away as if scorched by his stare. “Your enemy. The Timber Queen. The one who would send you to the Arena. The daughter of your Thord’s killer. ”

“Especially knowing who you are.” Sigvid grabs her chin and forces her to meet his eyes.

What is causing her anger? She has been irate with me since we left Blackwood this morning.

“To claim me as your plaything earlier in our lives?”

“You are the most delicious plaything I could have ever discovered naked outside my cell.”

And I will never share you with anyone .

Her nostrils flare as she scrambles away from under his touch. With her whole body quivering, she jabs a finger at him. Even with the vicious timbre to her voice, he finds the flash of her eyes and scrunch of her nose adorable.

“What am I to you?” Her tone is pained as her choked words pour out. “I cannot take this anymore!” Her voice breaks, and she sobs into her hands.

“You almost stole my womanhood that night. Why? A conquest to tick off somewhere on your body like all of those you’ve slaughtered?” Her fingers grasp at her curls as if they will offer some form of comfort. “You and everyone else threw me to Rendel. He forced me into terrible things I may never be able to talk about!” She is now shrieking.

“Why can’t you let me go, Sigvid? Am I your whore, your trophy, or your little Queen? Ever since I found that marriage contract as a child, I dreamed for so long you would be the one to save me from the horrors that stalk me.” Her head hangs onto her chest.

Marriage contract?

“You have no idea how long I have clung to the notion that you may be my hero, but you’ve only ever been my villain.”

Before he can respond, the ground-shaking rumbling of rocks draws them both to the ledge above, where a landslide of rocks and mud rushes in their direction.

“Move!” Sigvid yells as he charges her.

He tackles Avina, his arms wrap securely around her body as they roll to safety. Her screaming has him more unnerved than the actual rockslide.

Their bodies hardly skid to a halt when Avina slides out of his embrace to the cliff’s edge.

“Hold on tight!” He orders over her screams.

He clutches her forearm as her legs dangle over the side. Sigvid manages to catch hold of a thin tree trunk before he almost joins her on the precipice.

“Avina, listen to me! Do not look down! I will pull you up!”

She nods, her eyes wide in terror.

He grunts as he anchors his legs against the tree and tugs her into his grasp. At last, her body curls over the cliff face, landing safely beside him, shaken but alive.

I almost lost her. For a second godsdamn time!

He is speechless while they catch their breath, and the remaining debris tumbles down the path. He hugs Avina tightly to his chest, savoring the beating of her heart.

“Do not ever fall off a cliff again. Do you hear me?”

“Sigvid-” Her voice is strangled from his hold.

He releases Avina and searches her eyes. “I am…”

Is this relief? Or just a miserable squeeze of his heart to the point of bursting?

“All that matters is that you did not fall into the canyon.”

Sigvid grumps and is about to turn away from her when he notices her bottom lip quivering.

“Avina, if I would have known what that bastard was going to do to you… I would never have left you in that study.”

Fuck, I would have brought her straight to Blackwood. I wonder if I can dig up Rendel and stab him twenty more times.

“When my guards brought you into Scarwood,” she interrupts his rationalization of re-murdering a corpse, “I knew the only way you would give me the information was through torture.” She licks her lips before continuing, “I insisted on being in the room so you were not alone with Lenzo, the torturer. As Queen, I brought you in, and you deserved my presence. Even if it was difficult.”

“You are right. That was the only way you would get information from me.” He chuckles.

And here, he had believed she was there to gloat. Those nights of fantasizing about squeezing the breath out of her lungs were unfounded .

Dammit, why the fuck does he feel so wrong? What can he blame this woman for?

“I healed you the first night because I feared Lenzo would be rougher with you after the fire extract.”

Fuck, why is she telling him this? He can accuse her of very little from the war onward. Every action this woman has taken has been justifiable.

Am I the asshole?

“Why tell me this? Why now?” he demands.

“Because-” She throws up her hands in defeat. “Because I am sorry, Sigvid! I know you hate me for the wretched Azure Blooms trick after that battle. For having you tortured. And, of course, the Arena.”

Why does he wish to comfort her? After everything, he imagined this apology going quite differently. His favorite had her bound naked before his Drengr as he hacked her to pieces. But, now fuck it all to the Abyss. He somehow feels unfit to receive her words.

“I am such a stupid fucking girl.” Tears fill her eyes.

He is under the impression that there is more she intended to say. Much of what she says holds a deeper meaning he knows he will need to unpack later.

“You have many reasons to keep me as your prisoner, to torture me for the next two months. And they’re all my fault. Everything I subjected you to is not your fault.” She hugs her chest and whispers under her breath.

Sigvid catches a blip of her mutterings: “Goddess, will I ever be worth more than a source for his revenge?”

Until then, Sigvid has cherished her as his prize for conquering the Arena, seeking vengeance on her for putting him there in the first place and in the war.

“By now, you should know I will do anything to keep you safe and at my side. Let us move on. Fjell Mountain will not climb itself.” Sigvid urges her onward.

He grapples with his reception to these foreign emotions budding within his chest. Avina’s active power may be invisibility, but whatever she wields against him is more potent than any physical damage he can deal upon an enemy. The gnawing emotion pulsating at the back of his mind is that he almost lost her.

Again.

There is no going back. I will never allow Avina to leave my side. Gods help the poor fucker who may try and take her from me.

If it means she remains mine, I will burn down the heavens and gift her a crown of ashes.