I lean in and lick the blood from his chest, warm and metallic and perfect. He shudders underneath me like I’ve cursed him, and maybe I have.

Then I glance over his shoulder… And there he is.

* * *

Bjorn.

Watching from the altar, backlit by torches and death.

There’s a fresh lineup kneeling at his feet, heads bowed, branded and waiting to bleed.

And him?

He’s standing like a god carved from bone and fire, fists clenched, that beautiful axe slung over his shoulder. His chest still painted in dried blood and Viking ink. His thickness pressing hard against his leathers, straining like he’s seconds away from snapping the whole world in two.

My heart skips. My cunt clenches.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

Bjorn doesn’t share. He doesn’t even look when someone else breathes near me.

But this one?

This one’s for the gods.

This one paid to die.

A red-brand. An offering.

So he lets it slide.

But only, for the gods.

Besides, he knows I’m not letting this man touch me.

Not really.

I’m in control.

I’m always in control.

I flash Bjorn a wicked little grin—one he knows well. The kind that says I’ll be on my knees for you the second this one's dead.

Then I drag my blade lower, slicing across the sacrifice’s ribs. Not too deep. Just enough to make him gasp. Make him twitch. Make him leak.

“Aw, you like that?” I croon, voice sticky-sweet. “You dirty little offering.”

I ride him faster now, dragging my nails down his stomach, making him writhe beneath me. His breath stutters and his eyes roll.

He’s close.

I lean in close to his ear, whispering like a bedtime story soaked in blood.

“You’re gonna come for me, aren’t you? Right here. Right now. While the gods watch. While he watches.”

He moans, high and pathetic as his whole body tenses.

“Good boy,” I breathe. “Now take all that ecstasy... and deliver it straight to Valhalla.”

And just as he breaks—right as the orgasm hits, face twisted in that perfect moment of agony and bliss⁠—

I bury the blade in his throat.

It punches in deep. The steel severs flesh and voice and worship all at once. His cum spills as his blood does, mixing in a final, holy mess across my thighs.

He gurgles, twitching beneath me, dying while still coming.

Gods, it’s beautiful.

“There it is,” I moan, grinding once more as the light leaves his eyes. “There’s my altar song.”

I arch my back, drenched in blood, gasping toward the firelit sky like the gods themselves just came through me.

Across the ring, Bjorn’s watching.

Hard. Breathing heavy. His cock now a weapon begging for war.

Soon, baby.

Real soon.