I clutched my spear behind the shield wall, heart pounding as fog swallowed the screams of my kin.
Axes splintered wood. Blood slicked my arms.
Then he broke through - the Viking raider with eyes like shattered ice, pinning me in the crush of bodies before I could swing.
I spat curses, clawed at his chest. Victory gleamed in his savage grin.
But gods, hatred twisted into something sharper that night.
Chained in the dim longhouse, sweat-glistened skin sliding against mine amid the dying echoes of battle.
His hands - brutal from the fray, yet tracing paths that unraveled my vows of vengeance.
I craved control, the steel spine I'd forged from loss. Instead, I arched into him, body betraying soul with every ragged breath.
He is destruction wrapped in unexpected mercy, growling commands that pull hidden pleas from my throat.
Fog-veiled fields witness our clashes now - fists to fury, lips to lightning.
Yielding to this enemy feels like violation turned rapture, each thrust a velvet lash against my pride.
I fight him still, sharp words my only weapon left. Yet in the frenzy's hush, those blue eyes hold me captive deeper than iron.
Freedom slips with every stolen gasp. My homeland bleeds under his boot. Self-respect frays at the edges of surrender.
What if this brute has already seized the heart I swore untouchable?
One more dawn, and I might beg him to shatter me completely.
