Loving the Prince of Darkness

Erik’s POV

“Hold it down!” Magnus shouted at me. Dark hair plastered to his forehead, sticking to his extended ears as a Nokken threw me in and out of the pond. I had the thing in a headlock, but as with many forest monsters, it was stronger than I was.

Was I going to let go?

Fuck no.

I wasn’t going to let this thing get away from me again. I’d been hunting it for nearly a week. Through rain and fog until I finally found which lake it had been dragging its victims into.

“I’m–” the creature bucked me into the water again with a splash, “—trying!” I sputtered more water, wholly drenched to the bone in murky pond water. Inky blood ebbed through the pond from my sword lodged into the creature’s side. “Shoot the fucking thing, Magnus!”

“I would if you could hold it still for three seconds, Erik!”

I swear he was taking his sweet time loading his crossbow as the creature hissed, smelling like a rotting bog as it took me under the surface again. I reached for my broadsword, fisting the hilt as I held my breath.

It snapped its teeth at me, trying to tear into my flesh to let it go. But I’m nothing if not stubborn. I get that from my father.

The Nokken tried to shapeshift in my arms, but my grip kept it from transforming into a white steed to gallop into the next pond to terrorize the next village. This creature caused many farmers to walk to their death, and as the prince of Myrkr (Meer-Ker), it was my responsibility to hunt it down.

My parents would always disagree.

That and hunting a creature were always more entertaining than politics. I’m sure my parents would bite my head off when I returned, but maybe the corpse of a Nokken strapped to my back would lighten the blow.

I twisted the sword with my free hand, the other arm tightened around the creature’s bloated neck. I breached the water's surface again and it howled as I tore through it, finally ending its desperate attempts to get away. The inky blood coated my armor as I trudged out of the pond, dragging the creature behind me onto the dry land.

“Hey! I almost had it!” Magnus shouted as he finally loaded the bolt into the crossbow.

I dropped the Nokken into the mud, slicking back my silvery blond hair, now black with Nokken essence.

Several fine hairs had escaped from my thick braid, which I usually did to keep my hair out of my face in battle, but this damn Nokken shook most of my hair out of the braid so I had to keep pushing it out of my eyes.

Magnus’s flesh was a darker hue than mine. Both Myrkr Elves, but his skin was a deep lavender while mine was a very light gray with only a hint of purple to it. We were both filthy though, streaked with mud and my greaves were unnecessarily heavy with algae.

Something wriggled under my armor and I sighed, shaking my leg until a little fish flopped out onto the ground. “Too late, Magnus. Looks like I get the glory.” I shot my childhood friend a smug grin.

“Like you’d let me have the glory anyways,” he shot back, unloading the bolt and clicking the crossbow to his back harness.

I dropped down into the mud, pulling a rope from Magnus’s pack to hogtie the dead Nokken. “You know, when your friend is being thrown in and out of a pond may not be the best time to learn how to load a crossbow.”

Magnus huffed, joining me to help loop a rope around rotting green skin. “I know how to load a crossbow.”

I scoffed. “Yeah. And I didn’t have a fish in my trousers.”

When we were done, I hoisted the Nokken over my shoulders and we started our day-long trek back to Myrkr, the largest village in the Northland. My home. A land I would inherit once my father deemed me ready for it.

But he was still healthy and my mother was more than capable by herself so I was in no hurry to wear that heavy mantle. I was content enjoying what the Gods had given us. Twenty-seven years of living in Myrkr and there was no way in Five Realms of the Afterlife, I would let any of those Forest fuckers take this away.

Always stormy and gray, surrounded by rivers, lakes, and oceans. Beautiful in the same way a predator was. Only the strong survive, etched and chiseled by time itself.

My little slice of paradise away from Forest Elf politics. Myrkr Elves didn’t bother themselves with the Forestfolk, even if we were at war with them. I didn’t even remember how it started, but it only mattered how it would end.

We’d win. It was only a matter of time.

And Forest Elf heads would line our piers on pikes, a warning to leave us out of all their problems with their Gods.

Not my Gods.

During our trek, we stopped at a flowing river. My parents would likely murder me if I arrived home filthy in the stench of Nokken blood. After all, we had appearances to keep up with. Magnus and I washed in the river, combing the sinew from our hair and the dotted gore from our armor.

This was commonplace in my village. We wore our hair in various styles of braids, keeping the main bulk of our hair uncut as a tribute to our parents. But even though I had very fine silver hair, it was incredibly thick, so I usually shaved the side of it to make upkeep easier.

Magnus, on the other hand, had no kin. His parents left him an orphan—deserters. So it was socially acceptable for him to cut his hair. He had no obligation to honor those who abandoned him.

Even so, he was a riddari and boasted his status with beads and leather intertwined through strands of midnight black hair.

The Forestfolk would call him a “knight”. Simplify everything the riddari code stood for. We’d killed many knights in the heat of battle. They were a dime a dozen. A riddari was held to a far more rigorous standard. More significant than a simple knight.

Not that the Forestfolk would ever understand the culture.

When we finished bathing, Magnus handed me some dried salted herring and a pickled egg to tide us over for the travel. It was the last of our rations, but we’d receive a hearty meal when we returned home.

Oh, how my belly grumbled for buttered root vegetables and rotating spikes of slow-cooked meats.

By nightfall, we had returned to Myrkr, greeted by townspeople cheering as I laid the creature out on a platform in front of the dining hall to display it to the grieving widows. I couldn’t bring their husbands or sons back, but I could give them closure for the beast that stole them.

“Thank you, Prince Eirikur,” they said, using my full given name.

Two girls came to either side of me. “Let us get you a drink for slaying the creature.” My gaze was drawn right to their generously-sized tits on display in low-cut blouses. Extravagant braids show off their status as unmarried. “It’s the least we could do for you tonight.”

The curvier of the two girls leaned into me, sultry eyes telling me that there was much more she was interested in than just a few drinks. Her neatly manicured hands pressed against the sharp line of my collarbone while the other grasped onto my leanly toned bicep.

Oh, how I loved long fingernails on women. There was nothing quite like being scratched up by a lover. Bitten in the throes of pleasure. Having my piercings pulled and twisted.

The bite of pain made the pleasure that much more delicious.

I loved waking up to red, raised pinpricks that decorated my chest. Seeing a lovebite on the previous night’s conquest as I walked around town. My town wasn’t incredibly large, but it wasn’t small either.

I’d seen my fair share of women, but I wasn’t the town slut. That title went to Magnus. But my parents would argue about that too. Irritated I hadn’t chosen a wife yet.

But I had no plans to settle down anytime soon. Too many beautiful women out there to simply settle for one.

But I also wasn’t keen on the idea of my own personal group of consorts either.

Group sex wasn’t something I was usually into, but tonight, I could consider it. I could be quite greedy in bed, but something told me I wouldn’t be doing much of the work if either, or both, of these two, could coerce me into bed.

It was fun every once in a while to take multiple lovers, but I much preferred to focus on one, and pour all of my attention into them for one unforgettable night.

For them, at least.

I glanced to each of the women hanging off me, and my skin tingled in excitement for what was to come. My cock tightened in my greaves.

“It would be rude to decline such a generous offer. Don’t you think, Mags?” A smirk curled the side of my mouth as I gestured to my friend as a way of saying, “Hint, hint, be my wingman tonight”.

He chewed the inside of his cheek to bite back a devious smile. “I could use a drink.”

Without another word, the girls led us inside the dining hall. Instantly, we were struck with the mouthwatering scents of a feast. Fowl roasted over an open flame—the simmering sounds of vegetables getting charred to perfection.

“Let us get you warriors something to eat,” the girls decided.

I grinned, stomach grumbling after such a long day. “Thank you, beautiful.”

The Myrkr woman flushed a lovely shade of lilac as she pulled on her friend’s sleeve, giggling as they left to gather a plateful of delicious offerings.

“Nice to be back, huh?” Magnus asked, bumping my shoulder.

I hummed in agreement as several of the patrons in the dining hall shouted and cheered us with horned tankards full of mead. I bowed at the waist, enjoying the applause when one of my brothers entered from one of the massive doors.

“Erik!” he shouted as soon as he saw me.

Bjorn. The youngest of my brothers, but also the tallest. And yes, we all hated how tall he was. Magnus and I sat at the long table at the crown of the room, where my family often sat above our people.

“Bjorn!” I greeted as the girls came back over to me, sitting on either side, one of them contently getting comfortable between Magnus and me. Now that was something I’d never be interested in. Group sex was already unfavorable but WITH Magnus? Hard pass.

My brother’s hair was finer than mine was, cascading down his shoulders as pale as cornsilk. At twenty years old, he still had baby fat along his jaw, rounding his cheeks. It hadn’t melted off yet as it had with our other two brothers.

“Where have you been?!” Bjorn snapped as I took a healthy gulp of crisp, sweet mead followed by a mouthful of poultry.

I shrugged, speaking around a mouthful of food, “See the Nokken outside?”

Bjorn pressed his fingers to his temples, looking far less laid back than he normally did. Usually, he had a friendly carelessness about him. Enjoyed evenings of art and music. After all, he was the last in line. He had the least claim to the throne, but he didn’t mind one bit. Me, though, I had the opposite problem.

“Our parents are pissed, Erik. PISSED!”

I washed down my meal with more mead. “How is that my problem?”

“Oh, it is about to be your problem. You weren’t here, so they made the decision for you.” Suddenly, he laughed, like he found the realization so fucking funny, he couldn’t keep it in. The doors opened and in walked both of my parents, the King and Queen of Myrkr. Silence fell over the dining hall as everyone stood up and bowed.

“We have an announcement for the kingdom!” My father’s booming voice filled up the entirety of the dining hall. He was a massive man, much larger than I was. My mother stood by his side, equally as dignified, but I knew she could easily take my father in battle.

But the bear of a man would roll onto his back if my mother so much as asked.

The civilians in the dining hall lowered back into their seats, giving my parents their full attention. My other two brothers followed our parents into the room and saw me, giving me the most apologetic look I’d ever seen.

They haven’t looked that sorry since Anders shoved me off a cliff into the icy moor. I couldn’t get that smell off me for a week.

So what the fuck was going on?

My father squared his shoulders, irritation in his eyes when he looked at me. Black hair and fair eyes while I got the silvery hair from my mother, and the eyes from my father. His yellow irises narrowed dangerously, a tick forming in his jaw.

“The War with Aldermor has come to an end,” my mother announced. “Soldiers will be returning home.”

Good. About time we killed all those Forest-fuckers. We’d been in a stalemate far too long. I wondered what finally did it.

The dining hall rejoiced, but that couldn’t be the entire conversation. I could feel something else hanging in the air.

“The war ends with the union of our nations. Our firstborn son will marry their firstborn daughter to join our kingdoms into one powerful nation,” my father added stiffly.

Shock ricocheted through my entire body. “What?!”