Chapter III

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I had such a hard time believing I was blessed enough to wake up next to Frej every night

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I had such a hard time believing I was blessed enough to wake up next to Frej every night. He hadn't left after the first night and I couldn't describe how happy that made me. He was such a sweet person.

He asked a lot of questions and he believed everything I had told him. He was a very spiritual person, so I guess it wasn't hard for him to believe me. He was struggling with believing his own gods didn't exist, but when I told him of all the gods that did? He said that his did exist, but not like he had thought and I guess he was right. There was a god of death, one of life, of love, a trickster god... There were so many of us and Frej wanted to meet them. Of course, he did. He was so curious.

I loved his curiosity and need to learn more because I wanted to teach him. Teach him all of my secrets.

"I want to take you away from here," I murmured softly.

His hair was growing out again. He had looked a little odd without any eyebrows but they were coming along nicely. He was coming along nicely. He was dead beautiful, really.

"Where would you take me?" he asked and looked up at me. He was always lying on my chest, drawing circles on my skin.

"All over the world, if you want. I'll show everything to you."

"Really?" He lit up and lifted up, his elbow supporting his upper body. "I've never been outside of Dania."

"I thought Vikings travelled around," I mused.

"Look at me." He sat up on his knees. "Do I look like a warrior to you?" He theatrically spread his arms out to the sides.

"Yes," I said and meant it. "You look every inch of a fierce warrior. You've met death. You've been burned. And you're still here. Not to mention..." I slid a finger over the tattoos covering his torso. "This couldn't have been pleasant."

He wasn't a large man. He was tall and slender, not skinny. His hips were narrow but his shoulders were broad. His body formed a perfect triangle, the tip turning down. He had very graceful hands. I had never thought of hands as graceful, but Frej had the softest and most beautifully graceful hands.

He looked down at his chest, lowering his arms. "It wasn't..."

"You're strong, Frej." I rose to my knees too and took his face in my hands. "You'll own the world before this century is over."

"Century?"

"Your body won't age. You're immortal. Like me," I murmured and was about to kiss him but he pulled back.

"I won't ever... Grow up?" he asked with a very small voice.

"Grow up? Frej, you're a man. You are grown up."

"I'm... 18 summers," he whispered.

I stopped and my eyes widened. Oh shit. Not only had I not listened to Death, but I had turned a boy. There were rules about this. He was supposed to have lived at least 25 years. By then he'd be fully grown and his mortal ways would be too embedded in him for him to progress too much with his abilities. But him being 18?

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