Ragnar's own temper had cooled, but he'd been stewing about what had happened for the past several hours.

His son had attacked him out of nowhere, apparently infuriated by something that Ragnar considered to be far beyond anything that was even his business. And now he hated him for... sleeping with somebody?

More than anything, he had actually been angry at Dodger for not only lying about what they had done, but because he couldn't help feeling like he'd been manipulated from the start and was being used to get revenge on his son. It was a terrific feeling. Definitely.

So, when Athelstan, which he could tell was drunk, he could smell him from two feet away, told him he didn't deserve his son's love, he snapped. Again.

Before he even realized what he was doing, he'd slammed Athelstan into the wall with a snarl.

What he said next didn't immediately make sense and it took him a moment to process.

"What?" He let him go just as suddenly and pushed past Athelstan, heading back towards the stairs.