Page 31 of Heart of the Wolf

Chapter fifteen

Brielle

Acold dread pooled in her gut, heavy and unsettling. It wasn’t quite regret, but more the stark realization that something inside her had changed forever. That an irreparable stain now marked her soul, dimming that pure light she so often admired.

Lost in her thoughts, the silken threads of the horse’s mane glided through her fingertips, her body swaying with its movement.

Steely eyes bore into the back of her head.

Still, Leif didn’t intrude. Instead, his strong fingers silently stroked her navel, his muscled chest a steadfast anchor against her back during the long ride home.

Once back in the safety of their village, his hands gripped her waist, helping her off their horse. The frost-covered grass crunched under her feet, and a breath misted in front of her as a large figure blocked out the few rays of sun struggling to peek through the clouds.

“Do you wish it were different?”

Despite the smooth timbre of his voice, even Leif struggled to hide the tremble in his words.

The hard line of his jaw twitched, dried blood still streaking his tawny beard.

Some otherworldly feeling nudged her forward, urging her to comfort his uncertainty.

Leif was a contradiction, his hesitant words betraying his tense, battle-worn features.

“No,” she intoned, an unwavering finality in her words.

Relief spread across his face, the creases around his eyes softening. She wouldn’t allow him to believe for one moment that she regretted what he had done. Or, worst of all, that she blamed him. He covered her hand, a slow exhale shaking his chest as he kept her warmth pressed to his skin.

“You are distant. If not that, then what troubles you?”

Footsteps grew quieter as Amund, Liv, and the others left them. Self-doubt slithered into the recesses of her mind, poisoning every good thought until she feared she would never be able to shake it. What if she had confused what it meant to be strong?

To be a Dróttning.

“Am I?” she started, then stopped.

Afraid of what she might find, she looked everywhere but at him until his fingers pinched her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. His heart synchronized with hers, the steady rhythm slowly dissolving the tension sticking to her ribs.

“Am I corrupted… by seeking revenge? You always said you were unworthy of my light.” Her voice cracked. “But now, I fear, it is I, who is unworthy of you.”

A thumb wiped away the tears as they fell. Skilled fingers weaved through hers, their grip reassuring and firm.

“Come,” he said, leaving no room for resistance in the low command.

She instantly obeyed, letting him guide her. The paths surrounding the village were quiet, the usual bustle of activity absent. Soon, the sun would set much earlier, and families would retreat inside before it became too cold.

No one followed them into the snow-covered grove where they had been married. A hushed silence blanketed the meadow, with only the distant sound of hooting owls echoing from far away.

Bright color exploded across the sky as the sun sank into the mountains, painting the snow in a pretty shade of lilac.

The remnants of the pyre from their wedding day still lay in an ashy pit, the snow having melted around it. With a peck to her temple, Leif gathered kindling, reigniting the flame. Trying to hide away, she buried her face in the furs lining the hood on her cloak.

“Look at me, hjartae mitt.”

Unable to deny him, her eyes found his. What she saw looking back at her was too intense, too demanding, too everything.

He stripped her of her defenses, removing the layers that safeguarded all her hopes and fears, leaving only brimming emotion in its wake. Almost too gently, his knuckles nudged her chin, forcing her to hold his gaze, as if sensing she was on the brink of pulling away.

“Thor honors those who maintain order and protection.”

“I maintained nothing. I was selfish. Cruel. Blinded by my own resentment.”

“Is that what you think, kona?” he said, his harsh words cutting through her like a dull blade, making her wince.

“Do you think so poorly of me that I would put you in that position?” The pad of his finger pressed to her lips, silencing her interruption.

“You will listen. Was it just you who suffered at your father’s hands? ”

“No. But that had nothing to do with my decision. I only—"

“You are not listening,” he admonished, ceasing her self-loathing. “With your father gone. Will those people struggle?”

Unlikely. Year after year, more than half of their stores went to the clans. If those people didn’t have to give that up yearly, they would thrive. She still couldn’t reconcile how her father had been so heartless. How many people had he inadvertently killed with his thirst for power?

Whenever she thought of her mother, all she remembered was her warmth, her kindness. How her auburn hair billowed in the breeze, and how her eyes sparkled like crystallized gems.

Maybe her father had dimmed the light in her mother so much that she didn’t have the strength to fight off the sickness that took her when Brielle was still young.

“No,” she finally answered, blinking away snowflakes from her lashes.

“If you willed it, I would have let him live. Even if it would have pained me to do so,” Leif said. Closing his eyes, he pressed his forehead to hers. “You protected more lives than you took today. And most of all, you protected yourself. Do you understand?”

With surprising gentleness, his large hands cupped her throat, sliding back to her nape. He leaned back far enough so she could see his eyes glittering in the awakening moonlight.

There would be many decisions she would have to make in this life, and not all of them would be easy. In retrospect, this choice hadn’t been difficult at all. She knew in the thrum of her heart what path she needed to follow.

Sometimes, death was inevitable, and she would be the one to cause it. Even if most of her life up to this point had been spent fighting against death.

All she hoped was that she would have the wisdom to know when to give the command and when to stay her hand.

Now, as the snow fell around them, the only person she had to answer to was herself. She feared she would lose her caring, warm heart. The one she had inherited from her mother, and that one day she would wake up as a twisted visage of her father.

Heartless and incapable of love. Her nails scratched along her forearms.

Nothing could have been further from the truth. It was because she loved that she made those choices.

Leif had once said her heart wouldn’t allow her to hurt him.

Deep down, she knew he was right. The choice she made today was because of how much she cared.

How much she loved Leif, her people, and herself.

She huffed a disbelieving laugh, braids spilling over her shoulders.

Slowly, she pressed a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Everyone had faith in her. And now, she had to have faith in herself.

“I understand, úlfr.”

“Good girl.”

The rich rumble of his praise tasted sweeter than honeyed fruit. A soft moan fell from her lips, her head resting on his chest. For a minute, it was as if the entire world faded away, and only the two of them existed. Brielle wanted to linger in the space where it was only them a little longer.

“Can we sleep here? Your wolf and the fire should be enough to keep us warm.”

The full moon had risen, bathing the meadow in silver starlight. Constellations twinkled overhead, telling stories of the gods. Stories that spoke of their blessings and of their peace. Here, Brielle and Leif were alone. Free from expectation and duty, only bound to serve one another.

Brielle now understood only a fraction of the weight Leif carried.

All she wanted was to curl up with his wolf and remember the night they spent together in that cave. The moment her life changed. Everything brought her to this future with him, and she would be forever thankful to Freyja.

Before, she had to suffer the consequences of her actions alone. If she made a decision that resulted in someone dying, no one was there to wipe her tears or comfort her.

Now she had Leif.

“You want to sleep with my wolf?”

Nodding, her thumb bounced over his thudding pulse. So many saw his wolf as a herald of destruction. But to her, it was so much more. It was a symbol of them, of the moment she recognized him without seeing him. When his wolf saved her, it called to a part of her that had always belonged to him.

Bright pinks and lavenders streaked above as the inky night twisted around the lights flickering in the sky.

Huffing a small laugh, she stared wide-eyed at the morphing sky.

Stretched above her were the songs of the gods and the sagas of the cosmos.

The power of it was as potent as any story whispered by the skalds. It called to her, soothing every worry.

Soft lips brushed against her forehead, Leif stroking her nape.

“Do you know what we say of the dancing lights?” he murmured.

“What?”

“Some say it is the moonlight reflecting off the Valkyries’ armor, coming to guide worthy souls to Valhalla. Others say it’s a bridge between our world and the gods. If we were to follow the lights, we would arrive in Asgard.”

“Which do you believe?” she asked.

“In this moment. I think it’s Freyja, smiling down at us. Don’t you see it, hjartae mitt? It’s our story written in the stars. She is celebrating two fated souls, rejoining as one. Our bond is weaving together the splintered sky with color.”

Sometimes the poetry Leif weaved with words shocked her.

By now, she thought she would be used to it.

Maybe in another life, he was destined to be a skald.

She swayed in his arms, grinning as the wind stung her cheeks.

Closing her eyes, her mind wandered, thinking of who they were in other lives. Who she was.