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“Airport,” he repeated, like he wasn’t casually shattering reality.

“What do you mean airport?” My voice rose. “Viking… what… where are we going?!”

“Home.”

My stomach dropped. “Home? Your home? In… wherever the hell you’re from?!”

His eyes hardened. “Yes.”

I backed up a step. “I’m not leaving London.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not!”

His gaze turned dark. “Where is your passport.”

“I’m not telling you!”

Viking took one step forward and the air changed, his patience thinning. “Bryn…”

“I have a job!” I snapped. “A life! A flat! I can’t just disappear because you’ve decided I’m your… your… mate!”

He moved closer, voice vibrating with dangerous certainty. “You already disappeared.”

“That wasn’t my choice!”

“It is now,” he said, and there was something terrifyingly final in it.

I shook my head, furious. “You can’t just take me out of the country!”

He exhaled, like my stubbornness was a mild inconvenience. Then he simply… picked me up. I shrieked as he threw me over his shoulder like earlier, my hair falling into my face.

“VIKING!”

He adjusted his grip casually; hand locked around my thigh.

“You’re insane!” I yelled, kicking uselessly. “PUT ME DOWN!”

“I asked nicely,” he said calmly. “You said no. Now we do it my way.”

“This is kidnapping!”

He paused mid-step. “Yes.”

I froze. “…Yes?”

He looked at me over his shoulder, expression pure arrogance. “Get used to it.”

I sputtered something incoherent, but Viking carried me out of my flat like I weighed nothing, suitcase in his other hand, like he was taking his belongings. Like I was included in that list.

Draugr followed behind, silent. When we reached the car, Draugr opened the door with irritating calm. Viking carefully tossed me inside.

I shoved his arm. “I hate you!”

He smiled, leaning in close. “No, you don’t.” When he climbed in after me, Draugr slid into the driver seat and started the engine.

Then Draugr muttered, deadpan, “Looks like this is becoming a habit.”