The Barbarian’s Stolen Bride (Northmen Barbarians #1) Read Online Jenika Snow

Categories Genre: Historical Fiction, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Northmen Barbarians Series by Jenika Snow
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Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 54783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
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I passed the Norsa Hall—the banquet room where everyone would gather for festivities. I could picture the room filled, food and drink in abundance, yet despite the activity, Fen would be focused on me. Always on me. And gods did I like that thought.

I admired the hall for long moments, seeing decorative but scarred rönd—shields—lining the walls. There were many vaylanin—castle servants—who looked busy bustling around the room, as if they prepared for a large feast.

Whereas the thralla were assigned to a specific person, someone in the castle of high standing, the vaylanin were there for everyday things, not specified to one individual but working together as a whole.

And as I took a moment to watch the vaylanin, it was clear they enjoyed their place here and were not mistreated. Their laughter and smiles as they worked told me all I needed to know as to how Fen treated the staff.

They were happy, so he didn’t disrespect them.

That had me smiling and relaxing even more.

I only stayed another moment, curious if something was being planned. Did Fen have something in mind to celebrate our nuptials, or was this an every-evening occurrence for nattmal.

I started walking down the corridor again, and after a few moments I heard a rhythmic pounding. And as I kept moving forward, the sound got louder. I could feel that pounding vibrating under my feet, growing harder the closer I got to it.

I heard shouting then, the sounds getting louder, the deep, baritone voices of men piquing my curiosity.

I followed the noise until the hall branched off, the luxury of this particular section seeming diminished the more I walked down it. Gone were the elaborate decorations. No pictures on the walls, no statues on pedestals.

By now the sound was deafening, the shouting and roaring, the cadence of the men chanting almost mesmerizing.

I could see at the end of the hallway scarred, wooden doors, a strip of light peeking out from underneath and in-between them. My heart was pounding as I moved closer, a little voice in my head telling me that I shouldn’t be nosy, shouldn’t let the curiosity get the better of me. I was still a stranger behind these walls, even if Kaldir had been my home my entire life.

But I felt like a child within the castle, every little thing surprising me, drawing my attention, having me hunger for more knowledge, because this was my home.

My new home.

And I didn’t hate that thought like I maybe should have, given the fact that I’d been plucked from the only place I’d ever known to become the wife of the ruler overnight.

I was surprised my hands were shaking as I reached out and gently pushed open one of the doors, and the sight I saw through the small crevice had me sharply sucking in a breath.

The large room seemed so massive, like a cavern carved out of the great mountains. Weapons hung on the walls, the flooring having dark stains on it, which I had a suspicion was blood. And it wasn’t hard to assume that was the case when there were men packed into the room, all of them fighting each other.

They were training hard, their motions fierce and brutal, savage in how aggressive and violent they were.

These were Fen’s guards… Kaldir’s protectors.

My eyes felt wide as I watched them. The men were big and strong, with bulging muscles and strength that seemed to billow off them like smoke coming from a fire.

I was transfixed by how intense the training was, with their masculine grunts, their huge bodies moving almost fluidly despite their sizes. Each man tried to gain supremacy over the other one, yet none of them could get the upper hand because they were all equally matched.

They were paired off, all of them shirtless, only wearing leather leg coverings. They had to have been fighting each other for some time, as they were all covered in sweat—drenched in it, in fact.

And then my focus landed on Fen, who walked around the room, critiquing each man if something wasn’t being done correctly. And when he would interject, showing them how he wanted it done, how to properly fight to win, I felt the flush steal over me, felt a wave of wetness pool right between my thighs.

I clenched my legs together, trying to stem off that flow, but the pure alpha-ness of watching Fen train turned me on like nothing I ever imagined before. The way his body moved, the raw sexuality he exuded… it mesmerized me.

I was transfixed at the sight of tendons and sinew flexing under his golden, scarred flesh. His abdominal muscles clenched, six thick rolls that lined each side of his stomach in stark clarity. And then there was that perfectly cut V of muscle that started on his sides and curved down to disappear beneath his leathers.


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