The voice came from behind Ragnar's skull, close enough that he could feel the cold air displaced by the visor, and the fury in it had thickened since the last words left it.
Each word came bitten off at the end, as if letting it run any longer would cost him the last thread keeping his hands from ending this too quickly.
"She didn't want to talk about it, eager to get back to the front instead of telling stories."
The words rolled over Ragnar's skin and the dread that followed had everything to do with how they were being said, because the voice was getting worse. Hotter. Closer and closer to the edge, memories stoking his own wrath higher with every detail instead of reining it in.
"Myrasyn was more than happy to indulge me, however."
Ragnar's ruined body did something it should not have been capable of. His heart, frozen solid beneath a shell of ice, managed a beat.
"Her list was so long I still haven't heard the end of it."
