Trusted: The Fenrir Series, #2

By Karla Rose

Peta isn't normal. She's not even human all of the time. Of course no Fenrir is human ALL of the time. Not when they have the option of shifting into a wolf. Too bad she hasn't had the option to shift in ages. Not since she hit her first heat and all the males started losing their minds. Her Dad's refusing to let her leave the den and she's going stir crazy. Luckily Peta's Mum and brother have found a way to sneak her out so she can have the freedom she so desperately needs.

 

Ryder's alone. Rejected by his people. Outliving every human he's ever met by thousands of years. Then there are the Fenrir, they hate the Aesir, and in particular they hate Ryder. He would never have anything to do with them, except for the fact that he just hit one of their females with his motorcycle. He knows he can't leave her injured on the side of the road, but helping a Fenrir isn't easy, and he has the bite to prove it.

 

With Ryder's help Peta is quickly back on her feet, but now the Aesir is sick and he's following her around like a love sick puppy. Peta is unnaturally protective of Ryder, her family is freaking out, and the only solution to their problem is to get him to the Dwarves, a race of people Peta didn't even believe actually existed.

Can a Fenrir and an Aesir be anything other than enemies? Is Ryder simply sick, or is something else going on? Can the pain of the past be erased by love, or are some pains too dark and too deep to heal?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Karla Rose
• Release date: Nov 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9780473544850

Karla Rose

Karla Rose is a wife and mother of two,  living in the Waikato, New Zealand.  She spends her time, helping where she can, loving her husband, and supporting her children as they learn and grow.  She has a love of food, movies, music, TV series, the beach, friends  and family. You can find her on her website karlamrose.weebly.com, or her Facebook page Karla Rose - Author.

Book preview

Prelude - a new world

The salty sea waters had consumed all land masses on Asgard, Midgard and Jotunheim. The war between Giants, Humans and Aesir was over, and none of the worlds would ever be what they were before. First fire had consumed the worlds, now the sea ravaged what remained. The sea, as always, was uncaring of wealth, power, or position. It washed away the corpses of gods, Dwarves, men, beasts, and all other manner of creature alike. As the water drained away, the eye-watering, noxious smoke from the fires and the repugnant coppery stench of blood and death abated. The lives of those lost, along with their stories, were absorbed into the unwritten history of the worlds. Ragnarok had ended, and this was the beginning of a new age.

On earth the only human man and woman left alive crawled from their hiding place in the heart of the world tree. On Asgard, the Aesir god Vali, or Ali as he was known to his friends, and his half brother Vidar took their first steps on their newly reborn world. They waded through the thick blue and golden flowers, in the field that had once been their home, Valaskiaf, to meet with the other survivors of Ragnarok.

Ali's feet touched the ground and he felt his heart shatter into a thousand pieces. The sorrow was piercing. There was truly no other way to describe it. Inside, he shed a tear for each and every life lost in what had been the final battle. His face, however, was void of all emotion. It was so blank in fact that his brother Vidar, who could see many things, was not aware of the emotional turmoil that surged through him.

Ali was known as a staunch warrior. But that didn't mean he felt nothing, though he knew that was the popular belief among the people. It had always amused him how blind people could be. Ali was the god of vengeance and re-birth, but he was also the god of light and love. His vengeful spirit and skills in battle were born of a need to protect those he considered his. The people he loved.

Closing his eyes, he lay down next to Vidar who was staring intently at the crystal clear sky.

Vidar suddenly laughed out loud. Finally. It is over and my life is my own. he said, smiling with a joy uncommon to him.

Ali’s eyes shot open in shock as he realised the one and only thing that would bring his brother such unique joy.

You no longer see the future brother? He asked.

Vidar nodded his head in affirmation. This is truly a new beginning brother. One where my only sight is the one before my eyes.

I am glad for you. Ali said, and he was.

Ali knew where the black shadows that bruised the undersides of his brother’s eyes had come from. They had nothing to do with the war between the worlds, and everything to do with the knowledge he had been given. A gift that was a curse. Vidar had been born to avenge their Father, Odin. He had grown from birth to adulthood in only five years, and throughout that time Ali had woken each night to the distressed moaning and screams of his beloved younger brother. He had listened as Vidar had shared the horror of his vision. The elderly and the young. Men, women and children. Gods and mortals. Few were immune to the rending, tearing, burning, bloody future Vidar was forced to endure, to witness night after night from the day he was born. He was a child born with a deep caring for those around him. A gentle soul, and yet Vidar lived through nights of horror. Forced to see the futures of anyone and everyone he came in contact with. Often seeing the futures of individuals he had no knowledge of at all. Everyone knew of Vidar’s gift, few realised what it cost him. Many tried to have him share his knowledge. But no matter what he was offered, Vidar never spoke of an individual’s future. Not ever. In truth, it was hard for even Ali to garner a single word from his lips, except on those nights when he held his brother as he cried. Ali was one of the only ones Vidar trusted with his vision. For all others, their Father included, he stayed silent. Not that Odin seemed to care. To him, Vidar wasn’t a child, he was a weapon, born exclusively to exact revenge upon Odin’s enemies. Vidar was rarely around people. He trained alone. He spent most of his day alone. Many questioned whether his quick growth to maturity had robbed him of his ability to speak, or if perhaps he had never learnt language, and so he became the silent god. Known as such because so few had heard him utter a single word.

Ali was happy for Vidar. Among other things, Vidar was the god of inspired thought and hope for better days. So far his hope had always been for the people around him. But now Ali could see he had hope for himself. Hope not just for a future, but for a real opportunity at life and love. From now on Vidar would have no visions. No painful, or frightening prophetic knowledge. His choices would be his own. His mistakes would be his own. His dreams would no longer be consumed with the knowledge of bloodshed in a never-ending war. The Jotun were gone now. All the giants were. Vidar and he had attempted to search Jotunheim. But the way was closed. There was no way to enter Jotunheim, and there was no way they could have survived. In the last moments Ali had seen of that world, the waves had already risen and the fires, that provided the heat that kept so many of the Jotun alive, had been permanently extinguished. So very many lives had been extinguished. The Vatnfirar, children of Aegir and Ran, could be found nowhere, their home off the coast of Noatun had been decimated, and even they, who could breathe beneath the waters could not survive the violence of the waves, let alone the heat that had drowned the worlds. The Dwarves, masters of metal and technology could no longer be found beneath the earth. Not even their magic, technology and skill had been able to save them. Almost all of the humans had been destroyed. Only the pair who had hidden within the world tree had survived, no others had emerged on the land of Midgard. But finally, and the most heartbreak for him, so many of the Aesir, of his own people, had died. Some in the war, others in fire and flood. But now, thankfully, it was over, and they all had futures to look forward too. At least those who remained did.

Vidar was finally, blessedly, free. He had been denied a childhood, he had been denied friends, he had even been denied family, kept separate from any who might be inclined to show him even the smallest sign of affection. Alone from the moment he was born, isolated from all except Ali, who had somehow convinced their Father to allow them to spend time together. The rest of the time he trained, his life was a constant battle, he knew every weapon ever created, and he knew how to handle each and every one with unparalleled skill. Even without a physical weapon in his hand, Vidar was so skilled that he could easily use his body as an effective and deadly weapon. Being capable of inflicting such violence sickened him, yet he was given no choice. The only time he even saw his Father was when Odin came to check on his progress. There was never even an ounce of affection from Odin. As far as Vidar could tell his Father was a monster, a monster who expected Vidar to kill Fenrir, to avenge Odin’s prophesied death. He pushed Vidar to learn fighting technique after fighting technique. Each time Vidar was observed as having mastered one ability, a new fighting skill was added to his repertoire.

Vidar lay back on the grass, smiling up at the clear sky. Those days were in the past now, he had hope for the future, for a life without violence. He was happy. Relieved. There would be no more dreams of death and torment, at least he hoped not. But as he closed his eyes a new memory, a recent memory, flashed before his eyes. It was blood and death. Pain and domination. He’d had no intention of killing Fenrir. Even after he had watched the beast crush the life out of his Father beneath his massive jaw. Vidar had watched his Father torture that poor creature to entertain his friends. Sometimes he would simply torture Fenrir for his own amusement. Vidar didn’t want to kill anyone. Certainly not that poor abused creature. Odin was punishing Fenrir because he had received a prophecy that Fenrir would kill him. From what Vidar could tell, it had been a self-fulfilling prophecy. Fenrir may never have killed Odin if he hadn’t endured years of torture and abuse because of the angry, violent god. Maybe Odin wouldn’t have hurt Fenrir if he hadn’t believed the creature would one day kill him. Vidar would have avoided the battle altogether if he’d been able, but he hadn’t been. The day of the battle had arrived, and somehow Vidar’s free will had fled. He was present in his body, but his consciousness was trapped, locked behind an enchantment so strong he couldn’t break free, no matter how hard he fought. His Father died, and the spell that had been cast over Vidar, even before his conception, claimed his body. He was not in control. His actions were not truly his own. But whether he chose to do it or not, it was his hands that had torn Fenrir’s mouth open. His feet, that had ripped Fenrir’s jaw away from his body. It was Vidar’s muscles that had been used to wield the weapon that had pierced Fenrir’s heart. It had been Vidar’s body that was drenched in Fenrir’s blood as the spell completed its purpose. It was him left standing in the aftermath when he finally regained control. It would be his mind that would forever have the memories of those actions ingrained upon it. So perhaps his nightmares were not at an end after all. Maybe the terror of his childhood and adolescence would mark him, define him, for the rest of his life.

Now maybe you will finally notice one of the many Aesir maidens who have been showing you attention little brother. Ali interrupted Vidar’s train of thought.

Vidar cringed. It was true that maidens had been showing him attention for a few years. He had never had time,but if he’d had the time he wouldn’t have been interested anyway. He may have appeared an adult, in physical form he was as much of an adult as his brother. But in the natural, he was barely even ten years old, an infant in terms of an Aesir lifespan. Granted he was as mature as a naturally grown adult, at least in his opinion, but even he knew that his ability to function in social situations was limited. He’d barely had any experience so it was hardly surprising. More than that, he had never considered a partner to spend his life with before now. Because of that, the advances made by the Aesir woman had been disturbing. None more so than those made by his stepmother, Odin’s wife, Freya. He shuddered. Freya had been the only mother he had ever known. The giantess Grid, his true mother, whom Odin had seduced to ensure Vidar’s strength in battling Fenrir, had never even met Vidar. He was stripped away from her at the moment of birth, and so he didn’t have a single memory of her. Perhaps the frost giantess, who was known for greed, violence and an unhealthy impatience, would never have loved him as a mother should be inclined, but she cared enough to fashion the magical shoes that protected him in his battle against Fenrir. She was the reason he didn’t die along with the beast. Grid’s maternal instincts aside, Queen Freya was the only woman Vidar could compare to a mother, and if her inappropriate advances were anything to go by, she never considered him as her son.

And here some of said maiden’s come. Ali smiled, waving to the approaching group.

Vidar watched as Freya and her maiden’s made their approach. Stopping every few meters to listen to survivors of Ragnarok and receive the gifts they were presenting her with. Freya was now the ruler as well as Queen of Asgard. A matter that would be undisputed. She controlled what was left of the Valkyrie and Einherjar armies. She was the widowed wife of their god King Odin, and she was surrounded by some of the strongest Aesir around.

Vidar shuddered again. Whether he wanted to or not Freya would expect him to fall in line, and if she wanted him as her consort, he would have no choice, as it was, his previous rejection of her was likely to create more than a few problems for him.

Vidar! A woman’s voice exclaimed joyfully.

Golden blond hair seemed to consume the air around him. He was suddenly face to face with the wide smile and unusual blue and brown eyes of Elena daughter of Sol.

He smiled. I’m so glad you survived Elena.

Of course I did. You knew I would. She smiled enthusiastically, And look at you stringing more than a few words together.

Elena was one of the few Aesir who refused to allow Vidar to keep to himself. Even though he refused to speak, she had insisted he come along with her and Hod, Vidar’s half brother, whenever he was free to.

And where is Hod? If you’re here then my brother can’t be far away. Vidar said with a smile.

Hod nodded, looking towards Vidar and Ali with unseeing eyes. Brothers. He nodded, moving up next to Elena and sliding an arm around her waist.

A scream tore through the peace that was filling the glade. Freya lay on the ground her body trembling. Her brother, her twin, leaned in close to hear the vision. The clearly distressing prophecy she was receiving. Freyr’s hand flew across a roll of paper writing down every word while her ladies pushed back the crowds. Freya and Freyr never allowed anyone to know the prophecies she received. At least not until she was good and ready to share them, even then Vidar had doubts that what Freya shared was accurate, rather than simply what she wanted people to hear. He would wager that she even held back much of what she knew from the women she trusted the most, those who found their place in her inner circle.

After a few moments Freya’s eyes shot open, and where before she had looked at Vidar with lecherous intent, now her eyes narrowed into angry slits. A feeling of foreboding settled in Vidar’s stomach. Whatever this prophecy was, it did not bode well for him. Not well at all.

Seize him! Seize Vidar! Freya screamed.

The Aesir survivors who filled the glade looked between Vidar and Freya in confusion. None of them knew what to do. She was their Queen. But Vidar was the son of Odin, and he had just killed what they considered one of the greatest threats remaining to them.

My lady. Ali started.

I’ve just had a vision. He will destroy us! she announced.

The Aesir now looked appropriately frightened.

If he is among us, we will all die. She said, tears flowing from her eyes.

Mother. Hod started, but Ali interrupted.

What if he was banished? Ali asked.

Freya’s tears stopped. She looked over at her brother, and he sent her a look that Vidar couldn’t hope to understand. For a second he could have sworn he saw her smile, but it was gone before he could be certain. What he did know was that no matter what she had seen, killing him now would not encourage her subjects to fall in line.

That may help. She said, sniffing slightly, I just want to keep my people safe.

I will take him to Midgard. Ali said, and before Vidar’s eyes, he saw the loneliness of his new existence spread before him.

For the vision I received, not to come to pass, he will never be able to return here. Nor will he be allowed contact with any Aesir, under the punishment of death. Freya said, her glance triumphant.

Vidar suddenly questioned if she had truly been given a vision. Maybe this was just her punishment for him rejecting her. Either way, as his brother prepared to transport him to Midgard Vidar knew that the future he had dreamed of was moving even further away than ever before.

Trapped

Peta had put up with more than enough. The boys were acting like idiots. All of them! She really couldn't understand how the other females in her pack could stand it, and yet they could, they had. She'd watched as each of the females of her age had gone through their first heat. At the time she’d been beside herself. Most of the females in her pack had hit their first heat at seventy-two, the Fenrir equivalent of a human eighteen years old, but not Peta. She was eighty-four before it hit, and now she wished it had waited longer before coming, or hadn’t bothered to come at all. At this point, she'd only experienced twelve days of the four-week-long heat and she already wanted to damage more than half of the unmated males in the den.

Back when she was seventy-two and all the girls her age had started going through their first heat she had been so embarrassed. She’d felt like such a freak, like there was something seriously wrong with her. She’d been so jealous when they had flaunted their new scents, the scents that told the males that they were 'mature', and were old enough to begin looking for a mate. She'd been forced to watch as they dated. Some of them had found their mates in the Lovell den, others had been allowed to visit the other dens on what was basically an exchange, except the focus was on meeting all the unmated males. At the time Peta had been desperate to get a look at the other dens, but since she hadn’t reached her heat she'd been forced to stay home with her brothers and her other male friends. She’d had to listen to the boys chat about how hot so and so was, as though she were just another boy. Which wouldn't have been half as bad if the girls weren’t inadvertently rubbing her nose in the fact that she was a ‘late bloomer’. Peta had felt so immature, like a kid trying to fit in with adults, as though they were part of an exclusive club that she couldn't possibly understand. To be fair, the girls had been nice about it, they’d never actively been cruel or anything. Of course, that could have been because the den was relatively small and they couldn't exactly avoid her.

Only three thousand Fenrir lived in the Lovell Den and despite Peta’s Dad, Erik Lovell, being Alpha of all the Fenrir dens, it was the smallest of the four. Most of the other dens had a population of closer to ten thousand living within their walls.

The other reason the girls were so nice was probably because Peta was the strongest female fighter in the den. She was actually a more accomplished fighter than most of the males. Which was pretty unusual, and basically meant she could hand anyone who had the guts to tease or harass her their backsides on a platter. Then there was the fact that Peta also had seven older brothers. Seven overprotective older brothers. With no other sisters to speak of, Peta’s brothers had focused all their protective fury on her. Which tended to put a healthy fear in the hearts of any female who might tease Peta and any male who might want to court her. Not that the males had ever thought to bother. Up until the point where Peta hit her heat the guys hadn't even seemed to see her as a female. She was just Peta. Most of them even called her Pete. Not that she’d really minded. She’d quite enjoyed the fact that when her female friends had gone through their heats she’d become one of the boys. Hanging with them had just felt easier. From that point onward Peta had slowly pulled away from her few female