Page 38 of Blood Red Rage

Draugr nodded once. “Bryn.” His greeting wasn’t warm, or cold, just fact.

Then Viking’s eyes shifted to two men standing slightly behind Draugr. Except… men didn’t cover it. They looked human, but wrong somehow. They were too still, too perfectly controlled, like they were wearing humanity rather than living it.

One was tall and clean-cut, dressed like he belonged in an office with a dark coat, neat hair and a polite expression. The other leaned against the wall like he had nowhere else to be, hands in his pockets, head slightly tilted, eyes too sharp, too alert.

Predators playing human. My spine prickled which in turn had Viking tighten his grip on my hand, sensing the shift in me.

“These are your guards,” he introduces.

My mouth fell open. “Now?”

“Yes.”

I glared at him. “You couldn’t ease me into it?”

Viking’s mouth curled. “No.”

The office-looking one inclined his head politely. “Lady Bryn.”

I stiffened. “Lady?”

The second one smirked. “She’s going to bite you for that.”

My eyes snapped to him. “Excuse me?”

His grin widened. “I like her.”

Viking’s voice dropped, dangerous. “Focus.”

The smirking one instantly sobered. “Yes, boss.”

Draugr looked faintly entertained, which was unsettling in itself.

Viking leaned down to my ear, voice low so only I could hear. “They will be shadows. You won’t notice them unless you need them.”

“And if I don’t want them?” I whispered fiercely.

Viking kissed the side of my head, calm as death. “You don’t get to want that.” Then louder, to all of them, his voice turning into command.

“If anyone touches her,” he said, “they die.” The room went colder, even the changelings stilled. Draugr didn’t blink. Like it was the most normal thing in the world, and I stupidly felt heat crawl up my spine at the brutality of it. Viking looked down at me, eyes dark, expression fierce.

“Now,” he said, “we go.” And as he led me forward, hand locked around mine like a promise and a threat, I realized with a strange, dizzy certainty that this wasn’t just protection, it was possession. And Viking Dragic was making sure the world knew exactly who I belonged to.

We didn’t just leave the mansion, we descended on the city. The night air outside felt sharper, colder, as if London itself sensed the kind of violence walking its streets. Viking moved like he owned the pavement under his feet. Like the dark was his, like the world was a thing that could be bent around his will.

And me? I was attached to him. Literally. His hand didn’t loosen around mine once, not when we reached the car, not when he opened the door for me or when Draugr got in the driver’s seat and one of the changelings slid into the passenger side like he belonged there.

I stared at the men in the car, and it still didn’t feel real. We drove through the city, the lights streaking past the windows. The deeper into my neighbourhood we got, the more my stomach clenched, anxiety creeping in.

Because here… I was normal. Here, no one knew what Viking was, no one knew what I was to him. The car stopped outside my building. My building looked the same as always with old bricks, buzzing hallway light and that familiar, slightly musty scent that had always meant home.

Viking’s hand tightened around mine as we stepped out. I noticed the other SUV had parked behind us and the changelings ghosted behind us, invisible in the way they moved. Draugr followed like a shadow.

I unlocked the door with shaking fingers. The moment we stepped into my flat, Viking’s gaze swept the space like he was assessing a crime scene. Like he could smell my life, my routines.

His eyes landed on my sofa, on my coffee table. The throw blanket Steph had mocked me for buying because it made my living room look “like an old woman lived here.”

Then his gaze cut to my bedroom door, possessive heat rolled off him. “This is where you slept,” he stated.