Valhalla Virus by Nick Harrow (best management books of all time TXT) 📕

Valknut was a cold weight in his eye socket. He couldn’t touch its power, though. Whatever transformation Bridget had started, it was far from complete. Until he had a better measure of his foe’s strength, the bodyguard would have to play it safe.

But that didn’t mean he had to be nice.

“I’m not wasting my breath on you.” Gunnar shrugged. “Talk if it makes you feel better about yourself.”

Hyrrokkin’s laugh tore through the darkness like the screeching of an entire colony of hunting bats. The sound gouged at Gunnar’s ears as it dragged on for long seconds. When the jötunn finally let the laugh die, her eyes burned with unholy mirth. She brushed silver hair back over her blue shoulders and continued her approach. She stopped a few yards away from Gunnar and brazenly appraised him with her lion’s gaze. “Yes, you’re just what I need. Come on over here and fill my snatch with that snake dangling between your legs. Our babies will be beautiful monsters. The world shall tremble when they crawl from my bleeding slit.”

“The sight of you makes my balls want to crawl back up into my belly,” he scoffed. The words he spoke seemed familiar and strange. This wasn’t the first time he’d hurled these insults, though for the life of him he couldn’t remember saying them before. “And your stink would curdle my seed before it took root.”

“Rude,” the jötunn said. Her lips, black as coal and glistening like ice on pavement, twisted into a frown. “You should be nicer to me. I went through a lot of trouble to get you here.”

“Fuck you,” Gunnar spat.

Hyrrokkin waggled her finger at Gunnar. She clucked her tongue, and the fires beside her belched smoke into the sky. “I gave you that opportunity,” she said with a smirk, “and you turned me down. Not a smart move on your part. Men have died for a chance to satisfy my lust. Women, too. It has taken me years to twist events in your world to bring us to the momentous decision before you. You should be more gracious considering what I offer.”

The Valknut throbbed in Gunnar’s head. Icy tendrils wormed their way out of the stone and into his flesh. Jolts of electricity spread through his body, bringing strength back to his muscles. Bridget had been right; the Valknut wasn’t just restoring him. It was rebuilding him. When it finished its work, Gunnar would be stronger than ever. But he didn’t know how long that would take or how long he could hold his temper in the face of the smirking jötunn’s taunts.

“Ah, you’re the strong, silent type,” Hyrrokkin said. “I like you, Gunnar. Let’s not fight. Join my army. It’s what we both desire. If you prove yourself worthy, you could rise to the very top. There’s nothing in this world you couldn’t have.”

Images unfolded in the smoke that drifted between Gunnar and the jötunn. Battlefields strewn with bodies, blood running in rivers through streets. Monsters crashing through buildings, ripping the world down past its foundations with fangs and talons. And Gunnar above it all, a double-headed axe clenched in his right fist, his left hand clutching the reins of a winged serpent soaring through smoky skies.

The visions stirred a dark lust in Gunnar’s belly. He’d been pushed around and abused by law and order. The world had never done Gunnar any favors, and he sure didn’t owe it any.

Joining Hyrrokkin would throw all of that aside. Gunnar could do whatever he wanted, to whoever he wanted, when he wanted. Embracing chaos would burn down the old ways and bring back a purer, more primal way of life. In a world of life-and-death struggles, there was no room for lies or deceit.

“That’s right,” Hyrrokkin promised. She stroked breasts the size of her head and pinched her nipples. Her hands glided down her blue body, dislodging sparks and puffs of smoke when they crossed one of the burning seams in her flesh. “I’m wet just thinking about the chaos a man of your talents could unleash on this worthless world.”

“I’ll pass,” Gunnar said. “The path you want me to walk doesn’t end anywhere I want to go. Try to force it on me, and I’ll kill you the same way I killed your little lap dog Corso.”

The jötunn’s screeching laughter ripped through the air again. She slapped her hands against her thighs, doubled over at the waist, and shook her horned head. When she straightened again, her smile vanished, and smoke leaked from the corners of her lips and the prongs of her antlers. “You do not understand what refusing me will cost you. Your kind think they’re so important. You believe you can save your world. You’re a fool to listen to Odin. That rock in your head will change you. It could strengthen you, true. Or you may be too weak to survive the transformation. Wouldn’t it be a waste to die trying to become a hero when there’s a better alternative right in front of you?”

A sudden spike of pain shot through Gunnar’s body like a bolt of lightning tearing from the top of his head down to the soles of his feet. It rocked him to his core and made him wonder if Hyrrokkin was right.

Odin had warned him that the hero’s path was deadly and there was no guarantee he’d reach its end. That was what Gunnar’s father had always warned him about. The world wasn’t fair, and fighting to do the right thing was as likely to end in tears as victory.

“That’s right,” Hyrrokkin confirmed. She took one more step closer to Gunnar, then stopped as if she bumped into an invisible wall. “You can keep your women if you join me. I’ll mark them so none of our people will dare to touch them. And I’ll give you more. An army of concubines with sweet mouths to suck your cock, an endless parade of fresh, hungry pussy to slake your lust. I’m