[Ivar's white-hot fury hadn't dissipated at all in the time it took him to get over to his father's house. If anything, it had grown bigger. Ivar was armed to the teeth and looked like he was ready to do battle with Fenrir himself. He let himself in and looked around for Ragnar. Oh, his father was going to regret every bad decision he'd ever made in his life by the time his son was done with him.]
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