Kveldúlfar
Undeserved Ascendance
chapter 28
by
copier
· original author:
an188
Danny thought for a moment, golden eyes gleaming in the firelight. Then, with a slow smile, he reached out and traced a clawed finger down Eirik’s sternum. “You will carve them a path,” he murmured, voice thick with quiet menace. “Gather the young ones—the hungry ones—from the old group. The ones who still have fire in their bellies. And bring the outcasts from your school, the ones who hate the world as much as they hate themselves. Together, you will form something new.” His fingers tightened on Eirik’s shoulder, nails biting just deep enough to draw blood. “Kveldúlfar.”
Eirik shuddered, eyes wide with devotion. Danny leaned in, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Start slow. Whisper of strength, of beauty, of purity. Let them think they’re joining something noble. Save the darker truths for when they’re already marked.” He dragged a thumb over Eirik’s collarbone, imagining the ink that would soon mar the skin there. “Every member gets the mark—a wolf’s head beneath the moon. You will teach them to fight, to move like predators. And I…” His grin sharpened. “I will ensure the money flows.”
Eirik nodded feverishly. “I know a run down gym—the owner’s an alcoholic..." he start but Danny stop him, "I will give you the money to buy it." Danny’s voice cut through the night like a blade through snow. “Clean. Quiet. A place where boys become wolves.” His golden gaze traced the firelight dancing across Eirik’s collarbones, imagining the ink that would soon stain them. "Only white, pure rase, will be allowed," Danny added.
"Of course, father," Eirik whispered, breath steaming in the frozen air as he knelt before Danny's naked perfection. The firelight painted shadows across his eager face—already mapping out wolf-head tattoos on the wrists of his trembling recruits.
"I need you to learn martial art." Danny's voice was calm but edged with steel. Eirik nodded sharply, eyes locked on the golden god before him. "For the group?" he asked. Danny smirked and shook his head, stepping closer until their bare chests nearly touched. "For *you*. You'll be their alpha—their teacher. Every wolf must learn to bite." His fingers traced Eirik's collarbones, lingering where the wolf tattoo would soon mark him. "Start with boxing, wrestling—brutal, simple. No flashy kicks. Just power and pain."
"Yes father," Eirik whispered, throat bobbing as he pressed his forehead to Danny's bare feet in the snow. The steam rising from Danny's skin curled around Eirik's bowed head like a benediction.
Danny tilted the boy's chin up with one toe, golden eyes gleaming. "Tell me—how many bitches pant after your new muscles?" Eirik flushed, fingers flexing against his thighs. "Sixteen... maybe more," he admitted. "They're weak things—girls from bad homes, fascist groupies." His lips twisted. "They bring me protein shakes and... touch themselves watching me lift."
Danny laughed, the sound like cracking ice. "Fool. Their weakness is your weapon." He crouched, catching Eirik's jaw in one hand. "Misogyny isn't denial—it's dominion. Their daddy issues?" His thumb pressed cruel into the boy's bottom lip. "Are your foothold."
"I don't understand father," Eirik admitted, shifting his weight as the firelight traced the contours of his furrowed brow. "If women are inferior, why allow them in Kveldúlfar at all?" Danny's fingers slid possessively through Eirik's sweat-damp hair, tilting his head back with deliberate dominance. "Do you know, my son, what is the purpose of women?" His voice dripped with wicked amusement. "To serve, to breed, and most importantly—to reflect our glory. Each one you train to kneel becomes a mirror for your power."
Eirik's breath hitched as Danny traced the boy's collarbone with a single claw-like nail. "These broken girls—starving for approval, aching to be owned—they will polish your boots with their tongues before dawn and lick your cum from their fingers after training," Danny murmured, his golden eyes reflecting the flames. "Imagine their usefulness—cooking your meals, washing your clothes, spreading their thighs whenever you snap your fingers. Let the weak men of the old world rage about equality. We will build a kingdom where women know their place: on their knees."
Eirik swallowed hard, his own muscles twitching with anticipation. "Father, some already kneel when I enter the room," he admitted, flushing beneath Danny's piercing gaze. "One of the girls, a blonde one, a fascist groupie—she bring me coffee and the way she look at me..." Danny's golden eyes flared with predatory amusement. "She want to be your slave, my son, she see you as the alpha you are. And like all women she want to be yours—not as equal, but as possession."
"Tell me, son," he murmured, tilting Eirik's chin upward, "how many of these lost lambs have wandered into your flock?" The boy hesitated, shoulders tensing beneath Danny's touch—not with resistance, but with the flicker of shame. "Eleven," Eirik admitted, voice roughened by the cold. "Mostly runaways—one with a Nazi father who beats her, another whose mother sells herself for meth." His jaw worked silently before adding, "They... they touch themselves when they think I'm not looking."
Danny's smile curled like smoke from the embers between them. "I know that you are a virgin," he murmured, his golden eyes tracing the flush creeping up Eirik's neck. The boy stiffened, fingers digging into his own thighs—ashamed not of the truth, but of his failure to confess it first. Danny's laughter was a low rumble as he leaned in, close enough for Eirik to feel the heat radiating from his skin. "Your body is a weapon, boy. Every inch of it. And weapons are meant to be used."
He dragged a fingertip down Eirik's sternum, slow and deliberate, stopping just above the waistband of his shorts. "These girls—they whimper when you flex, don't they?" Danny's voice dropped to a whisper, thick with promise. "Imagine how they'll scream when you split them open." Eirik's breath hitched, pupils dilating as Danny's words painted the image—his hands gripping their hips, their nails scoring his back, their voices breaking under his weight. "Take the blonde first," Danny instructed. "The one who kneels without being told. Make her come so hard she forgets her own name."
The firelight licked at Eirik's sharp cheekbones as Danny leaned closer, their foreheads nearly touching. "Virginity isn't purity," he murmured, lips brushing the shell of Eirik's ear. "It's wasted potential. You'll fuck her against the squat rack tomorrow—let the others watch. Let them see what happens to girls who think they deserve your attention." Eirik shuddered, his cock straining against fabric, already half-hard at the thought of claiming what was his. Danny smirked, pulling back to admire the hunger in the boy's eyes. "Good. That's the look of a man who understands his purpose."
Without another word, Danny stepped into the circle of stones, his golden skin gleaming like molten metal in the firelight. The wind whipped around him, lifting his platinum hair as his feet left the ground—slowly at first, then faster, until he hovered above Eirik like some wrathful deity. "Don't disappoint me," he called down, voice echoing unnaturally across the frozen landscape. Eirik dropped to his knees instantly, snow seeping through his pants, fingers digging into his own thighs hard enough to bruise. "I won't, Father," he swore, voice cracking with devotion.
As Danny was flying back to his apartment he...
Eirik shuddered, eyes wide with devotion. Danny leaned in, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Start slow. Whisper of strength, of beauty, of purity. Let them think they’re joining something noble. Save the darker truths for when they’re already marked.” He dragged a thumb over Eirik’s collarbone, imagining the ink that would soon mar the skin there. “Every member gets the mark—a wolf’s head beneath the moon. You will teach them to fight, to move like predators. And I…” His grin sharpened. “I will ensure the money flows.”
Eirik nodded feverishly. “I know a run down gym—the owner’s an alcoholic..." he start but Danny stop him, "I will give you the money to buy it." Danny’s voice cut through the night like a blade through snow. “Clean. Quiet. A place where boys become wolves.” His golden gaze traced the firelight dancing across Eirik’s collarbones, imagining the ink that would soon stain them. "Only white, pure rase, will be allowed," Danny added.
"Of course, father," Eirik whispered, breath steaming in the frozen air as he knelt before Danny's naked perfection. The firelight painted shadows across his eager face—already mapping out wolf-head tattoos on the wrists of his trembling recruits.
"I need you to learn martial art." Danny's voice was calm but edged with steel. Eirik nodded sharply, eyes locked on the golden god before him. "For the group?" he asked. Danny smirked and shook his head, stepping closer until their bare chests nearly touched. "For *you*. You'll be their alpha—their teacher. Every wolf must learn to bite." His fingers traced Eirik's collarbones, lingering where the wolf tattoo would soon mark him. "Start with boxing, wrestling—brutal, simple. No flashy kicks. Just power and pain."
"Yes father," Eirik whispered, throat bobbing as he pressed his forehead to Danny's bare feet in the snow. The steam rising from Danny's skin curled around Eirik's bowed head like a benediction.
Danny tilted the boy's chin up with one toe, golden eyes gleaming. "Tell me—how many bitches pant after your new muscles?" Eirik flushed, fingers flexing against his thighs. "Sixteen... maybe more," he admitted. "They're weak things—girls from bad homes, fascist groupies." His lips twisted. "They bring me protein shakes and... touch themselves watching me lift."
Danny laughed, the sound like cracking ice. "Fool. Their weakness is your weapon." He crouched, catching Eirik's jaw in one hand. "Misogyny isn't denial—it's dominion. Their daddy issues?" His thumb pressed cruel into the boy's bottom lip. "Are your foothold."
"I don't understand father," Eirik admitted, shifting his weight as the firelight traced the contours of his furrowed brow. "If women are inferior, why allow them in Kveldúlfar at all?" Danny's fingers slid possessively through Eirik's sweat-damp hair, tilting his head back with deliberate dominance. "Do you know, my son, what is the purpose of women?" His voice dripped with wicked amusement. "To serve, to breed, and most importantly—to reflect our glory. Each one you train to kneel becomes a mirror for your power."
Eirik's breath hitched as Danny traced the boy's collarbone with a single claw-like nail. "These broken girls—starving for approval, aching to be owned—they will polish your boots with their tongues before dawn and lick your cum from their fingers after training," Danny murmured, his golden eyes reflecting the flames. "Imagine their usefulness—cooking your meals, washing your clothes, spreading their thighs whenever you snap your fingers. Let the weak men of the old world rage about equality. We will build a kingdom where women know their place: on their knees."
Eirik swallowed hard, his own muscles twitching with anticipation. "Father, some already kneel when I enter the room," he admitted, flushing beneath Danny's piercing gaze. "One of the girls, a blonde one, a fascist groupie—she bring me coffee and the way she look at me..." Danny's golden eyes flared with predatory amusement. "She want to be your slave, my son, she see you as the alpha you are. And like all women she want to be yours—not as equal, but as possession."
"Tell me, son," he murmured, tilting Eirik's chin upward, "how many of these lost lambs have wandered into your flock?" The boy hesitated, shoulders tensing beneath Danny's touch—not with resistance, but with the flicker of shame. "Eleven," Eirik admitted, voice roughened by the cold. "Mostly runaways—one with a Nazi father who beats her, another whose mother sells herself for meth." His jaw worked silently before adding, "They... they touch themselves when they think I'm not looking."
Danny's smile curled like smoke from the embers between them. "I know that you are a virgin," he murmured, his golden eyes tracing the flush creeping up Eirik's neck. The boy stiffened, fingers digging into his own thighs—ashamed not of the truth, but of his failure to confess it first. Danny's laughter was a low rumble as he leaned in, close enough for Eirik to feel the heat radiating from his skin. "Your body is a weapon, boy. Every inch of it. And weapons are meant to be used."
He dragged a fingertip down Eirik's sternum, slow and deliberate, stopping just above the waistband of his shorts. "These girls—they whimper when you flex, don't they?" Danny's voice dropped to a whisper, thick with promise. "Imagine how they'll scream when you split them open." Eirik's breath hitched, pupils dilating as Danny's words painted the image—his hands gripping their hips, their nails scoring his back, their voices breaking under his weight. "Take the blonde first," Danny instructed. "The one who kneels without being told. Make her come so hard she forgets her own name."
The firelight licked at Eirik's sharp cheekbones as Danny leaned closer, their foreheads nearly touching. "Virginity isn't purity," he murmured, lips brushing the shell of Eirik's ear. "It's wasted potential. You'll fuck her against the squat rack tomorrow—let the others watch. Let them see what happens to girls who think they deserve your attention." Eirik shuddered, his cock straining against fabric, already half-hard at the thought of claiming what was his. Danny smirked, pulling back to admire the hunger in the boy's eyes. "Good. That's the look of a man who understands his purpose."
Without another word, Danny stepped into the circle of stones, his golden skin gleaming like molten metal in the firelight. The wind whipped around him, lifting his platinum hair as his feet left the ground—slowly at first, then faster, until he hovered above Eirik like some wrathful deity. "Don't disappoint me," he called down, voice echoing unnaturally across the frozen landscape. Eirik dropped to his knees instantly, snow seeping through his pants, fingers digging into his own thighs hard enough to bruise. "I won't, Father," he swore, voice cracking with devotion.
As Danny was flying back to his apartment he...
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June 13
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