Defending Her Vikings by Skye MacKinnon

Author:Skye MacKinnon [MacKinnon, Skye]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: action, new adult, college, love, UK, Britain, Norse, adventure, London, reverse harem romance, steamy, runes, historical, alpha male, serial, Viking, time travel, Norsemen, polyamorous, university, professor, futuristic, mission, Old Norse, library, Mystery, science fiction romance, coming of age, teacher, academy romance, English, mfmm, menage
Publisher: Peryton Press
Published: 2019-05-28T04:00:00+00:00

ᚴᛅᛒᛁᛏᚢᛚᛁ 4

I closed my eyes, surrendering to the stream of hot water kneading my tired muscles. The Archivist had the most amazing shower, miles better than the ones we had in our communal student bathrooms. I was only slightly jealous.

Rather than stay with the teachers on the top floor of the Academy, he had his own little studio flat just next door from the Archive. Since I didn't want to be seen, this was perfect for cleaning up and feel human again. I didn't know how Heather had survived for decades without hot showers. Or maybe she'd built her own, who knew. I'd been too tired last night to ask for anything more than the cloth and the bowl of warm water she’d given me.

I stretched my arms and arched my back against the wall. The hot water helped soothe the tension in my body, but it didn't quite remove it completely. A voice in the back of my mind kept telling me that I needed to hurry, that Hjalmar was imprisoned, that I shouldn't be enjoying a long hot shower. At the same time, I knew there was nothing I could do but wait for the Archivist to set up the meeting with Priscilla Priest. Heather had returned to the past, using a time bracelet the Archivist had given her, which would allow her to travel right back into the Archive - something normal bracelets couldn't do since this floor of the building was shielded somehow. I'd asked how that worked but all the Archivist had done was glare at me as if it was my fault that nobody has taught us stuff like that.

I switched off the shower and wrapped myself into a towel that the Archivist had given me. I grimaced. Here I was, in his shower, smelling like him thanks to his masculine shower gel, and I didn't even know his name. Did every Archivist give up their own name, or was this a special quirk of the current one? Maybe his name was so awful, so embarrassing, that he preferred others not to know it.

Twisting my hair into a messy, wet bun, I wondered whether it was safe to leave the bathroom. The Archivist had said he'd get me some clothes in my size, but I wasn't sure if he'd done that yet. I opened the door an inch wide and peeked outside. Nobody to be seen. Maybe he'd already put the new jumpsuit somewhere for me to find. Barefoot and still a little wet, I traipsed across his living room.

The kitchenette in the corner looked mostly unused, even though I'd never seen the Archivist in the dining hall. Maybe he had his food delivered down here rather than eat with everyone else. It would certainly fit his antisocial personality.

A bed with messy sheets and a plethora of pillows was on the other side of the room. Someone should teach this guy how to make a bed. My mother would be appalled at how untidy it looked.

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