Page 36 of Heart of the Wolf

But he was her wolf, her husband, her Konungr.

The Gods may have chosen him, but he chose her.

And she chose him.

Brielle wiggled her hips, sliding lower into the furs and onto his length, slipping the tip just inside her.

“Eager,” he groaned, positioning her legs around his waist.

“Yes,” she laughed in a broken breath.

If only to leave her panting, Leif rocked his hips into her slowly, content to take his time. Her tongue pressed into her teeth, running her fingers along the scars on his chest, silently pleading with him.

With a final snap of his hips, he filled her, and Brielle moaned at the divine stretch splitting her in half.

It was perfection every time.

The only thing better than the snug fit of his cock filling her was the pure look of fire and adoration in his gaze. No one else got to see him like that, on the cusp of damnation.

And it was Brielle who made him look like that, feel like that.

Leif ran his fingers over her ribs, the skin prickling in his wake. One hand clutched her hip, the other closing gently around her throat, his thumb nudging her chin.

Blush bloomed high on her cheeks, setting her freckled skin aflame. The points of his teeth dug into the swell of his lip, snapping his hips into hers.

Sweat clung to the small of her back as she arched under his touch, chasing the high that only he could give her. Her body protested the rough strokes, too exhausted. But his cock slammed into that same spot, and that was the only thing that mattered.

No pain, no logical thought could keep her from giving in to the exquisite thrum at her apex.

With every cant of his hips, Brielle bucked into him, meeting Leif thrust for thrust in a melody that was uniquely their own.

A proud smile greeted her before Leif palmed the back of her head, bringing it to his and stealing a biting kiss.

He dragged his cock out slowly before quickening his pace, swallowing her whimpers that increased with each thrust.

“That’s it,” he breathed, nipping at her jaw. “So tight for me. You will send me to Valhalla,” he chuckled in a harsh sound. “Honor in battle, death by your hungry cunt.”

Brielle laughed, the sweet sound cut off when Leif reached between them, pressing his thumb to her clit.

Her lip trembled, every muscle in her body turning rigid with the mounting pressure about to burst from her.

A gasp caught in her throat as her walls clamped down around Leif, pulling him over the edge with her.

A roar rumbled deep in his throat, his nails biting into her skin as he emptied himself deep inside her.

Warm ropes of his release filled her. Brielle shook, her breath ragged, and her pulse frantic as she clung to him, weakly kissing his chest. Leif slid an arm around her back, keeping her body close to his as they rode out their shared climax.

His cock twitched as it softened before Leif slipped out, making her shudder at the sudden emptiness. Strands of hair from his braids tickled her cheek as he peppered kisses along the top of her head. Brielle sighed a contented sound, scratching her fingers through his beard.

Rolling onto his back, he carefully brought Brielle down with him. He caressed the cascade of curls that spilled along her spine, whispering praises into the silky strands while his other hand rested atop the swell of her belly, chasing their baby’s movements.

“It didn’t work,” Brielle mock-pouted, fluttering her lashes in his direction.

“We shall have to try again tonight when I return,” Leif smirked, stroking his thumb over her freckles. He yanked a fur over their hips, capturing her lips briefly before kissing the tip of her nose.

“When are you leaving?” she asked.

“Soon.”

Nodding, she rested her cheek over his heart, focusing on its steady beating in his chest. It was already late in the morning if the dying embers in the fire were any indication.

Amund would soon come for Leif if he didn’t leave, and they would meet in the longhouse with the other warriors. Brielle would be left to distract herself until evening came, and Leif was home in her arms once more.

“Why is there so much unrest among the clans? Are they not content?”

She trailed a nail along the most prominent scar on his chest.

If the other clans were like Leif’s, why were they angry with him? The village thrived with bustling markets, hefty food stores, strong warriors, and plenty of children running through the streets.

“Too much,” Leif mused, scratching his thick beard. “Some of the clans crave blood. They believe I am keeping them from it.”

“Did you not just send out longships on a raid?”

Not more than a day ago, three massive ships departed with raiding parties from all the clans.

They were to sail to the far shores. Was that not enough?

What more could the clans want? Brielle pressed her lips to his collarbone and did not move, thinking of her old village.

Leif had left them unharmed and protected.

An English town nestled among the clans, and they weren’t allowed to take, raid, or destroy.

Was that the reason? Something niggled in the back of her mind, knowing it went much deeper than that. Some wanted thralls. Others craved blood. And a few fought for power.

“Yes,” he said, running his fingers through her curls. “That isn’t enough to satiate their thirst for battle. And if it’s blood they want.” Leif’s eyes narrowed, his tone turning cold. “There is more blood in peace than war, and I will bathe the grass in it.”

Brielle bracketed his face in her hands, bringing his gaze to hers, willing the warmth in her stare to break the far-off glaze of his own.

“Come home to us, úlfr?” she asked quietly, bringing his hand to her stomach.

“Always. I will always return to you both,” he said, punctuating the words with a kiss on her temple.

As he did every morning, Leif filled the basin with steaming water before helping Brielle into it and washing her hair. Even when she protested, insisting Astrid or Liv could help her, he ignored her, stating it was his honor to care for her.

The quiet moments by the fire, when his thick fingers delicately braided her hair, brought her enough peace to get through the days while Leif was gone.

If it weren’t for that, the fear might consume her, worrying if he would make it home.

Instead, she focused on the memories of his tender touches and supple lips, mixing with each other.

Moments later, Amund arrived with fresh scars on his face, looking ready for battle.

“úlfr,” he said, his voice urgent and low. His eyes tracked a slow gaze over the room, landing on Brielle before dipping his chin respectfully. “We must go.”

Leif nodded, sweeping a braid over Brielle’s shoulder. “A moment,” he said, gesturing to Amund, who nodded and left. “I love you, hjartae mitt.”

“I love you, Leif.”

“Remember. I will always come home to you. To our daughter. Not even Odin could stop me from cradling you in my arms every night.”

“I know,” she said, smiling into the pad of his thumb. “I’ll be here waiting for you.”

His lips pillowed into hers, the kiss soft, unhurried, but much too short. Leif pecked her temple before leaving with his axe in hand. Once he was out of sight, she let out a stuttered breath, letting the strangled tears leak from her eyes before she hastily wiped them away.

If anyone asked, she’d blame the baby.

It made her worry more than usual.

Brielle picked from a bowl of berries, eating a few before Astrid and Liv arrived. While she wasn’t certain, she assumed Astrid had given her a private moment alone before their arrival, having a general idea of when Leif had left based on when Amund had.

She had never appreciated anything more.

Liv dropped into the space beside her on the bench, tossing a handful of berries into her mouth before winking at Brielle, making her laugh. Liv never failed to put her at ease.

“Where is Andri?” she asked, curious about where Liv’s husband had gone since Brielle hadn’t seen him in the village.

“Andri is leading the raid; it may be a month before he returns,” Liv mused, well-versed in the English words now. Ever since learning them, she had asked Brielle to speak them with her so she could practice.

“Are you worried?”

“No. Andri is a strong warrior; he will be victorious and come back to me hungry and fierce,” she snickered, tossing her flaming braids to one side.

Astrid floated nearby, placing a bouquet of wildflowers on either side of the bed, humming something about offering protection and virility. After another spin around the room, Astrid sat on Brielle’s other side, grinning down at her stomach.

“How are you feeling?”

Brielle laughed. “Swollen, sore, hungry, nauseous, tired, and ready. Ready for this little baby to be out of me.”

Stroking her stomach, Brielle looked at the two women on either side of her, both laughing.

“You have at least three weeks more,” Astrid said. “Do not fret, Brielle. We will take daily walks, and it should encourage your daughter to make an earlier appearance.”

“Not you too, Astrid.

“Do you believe it is a girl as well?”

“It’s obvious,” Liv added, leaning forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “You have been craving rabbit for months. Almost all you’ll eat. And you cannot keep your hands off úlfr, every morning and night.” Crimson stained Brielle’s cheeks. “It’s a girl,” Liv laughed, tossing her head back.

“Do you all hear us?” Brielle nearly shouted.

“You mostly,” Liv chuckled, and Brielle blanched.

“You and úlfr are happy; it’s good,” Astrid said, squeezing Brielle’s hand. “Everyone cannot wait to meet your baby.”

Brielle made a note to toss a pillow over her face or cover her mouth from now on.

She did not enjoy the idea of the entire village knowing how often Leif made her come.

She knew the few times they had done it in the valley; it was unavoidable, people would hear, but not from the comfort of their bed.

“A walk,” Astrid encouraged, hopping to her feet while helping Brielle to hers.

After a few attempts, Brielle rocked off the bench with Liv’s help, and a chorus of laughter erupted from them.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Liv said. “Ivarr needs help. There is this woman, Ingrid, he is intent on. He gifted her a blade and didn’t understand why she didn’t respond well.

The woman is no warrior.” Liv shook her head.

“I need to help my brother before he scares the poor thing off. See you tonight? I’ll make that rabbit stew you like. ”

“Yes,” Brielle grinned as the three of them walked outside.

While Liv headed into the village center, Astrid threaded her arm through Brielle’s, leading them to the well-trodden path through the forest. The trees were thick with lush leaves, and sunlight streamed overhead, just peeking out of the treetops.

Astrid remained a constant comfort, and Brielle hoped she was one to her sister as well.

As the tension with the clans continued to escalate, so did the creases around Astrid’s mouth. Even if she did her best to stay positive around Brielle, she couldn’t hide it completely. Astrid rarely voiced her worries, but Brielle saw the hefty weight in her eyes.

Each day, Brielle pushed herself harder to walk for longer. The house was too empty with Leif gone, and the summers were so short. She intended to soak up as much of the sun as possible before winter came.

Soon, the pair found themselves at the water’s edge.

Brielle slipped off her boots with Astrid’s help, grinning as the waves lapped at her toes.

There was a sting to the tide; the water was still cold despite the warm afternoon sun.

Brielle reveled in it, the frigid water soothing her swollen ankles.

Brielle ran her hands over her belly, staring at the horizon the longships had chased. Astrid skipped stones along the water, asking her about her and Leif’s plans for their child.

Silently, Astrid passed her a smooth stone. Brielle ran the pad of her thumb along it. When she tossed it into the water, it plunked straight to the bottom, not skipping even once. Pouting, she met Astrid’s bright blue eyes laced with laughter.

“What about you, Astrid? Do you and Amund intend to have children?”

“Oh yes,” she said with unwavering clarity. “Once you and úlfr are settled with your little girl.” Brielle huffed, but let her continue without interruption. “Amund and I will have a son. I think Freyja may have plans for them.”

An entire future flashed through Brielle’s mind. One where they had a daughter, and Astrid and Amund had a son. One where Leif and Amund argued when their children bickered like siblings. One where someone grew close to their daughter, closer than Leif wanted anyone near his little girl.

“That’s a pretty picture,” Brielle said, noting the curious way Astrid stared off into the distance, distracted.

“It is,” Astrid said, padding further down the shore looking for stones, leaving Brielle with her thoughts.

Boy or girl, it didn’t matter. As long as their baby was healthy and cared for, Brielle would be happy.

Leif would protect their child with his last breath.

Her thumb stroked over her navel, smiling when their baby kicked.

Her mind wandered to thoughts of a second one or even a third.

Brielle shook it from her mind, instead wanting the current one out of her.

“I love you very much, but if you could please make your appearance soon. Mamma’s tired, little one.”

“Brielle,” Astrid screamed, her voice muffled. “Run!”

Before she could react, the cool blade of a dagger bit into her throat.

Gnarled, bony fingers snaked around her wrist, wrenching her arm painfully behind her back.

Brielle hissed, clenching her jaw so hard that her teeth rattled.

Everything happened so quickly that it took Brielle’s senses a moment to catch up.

When the blade moved from her throat to her belly, tears stung her eyes, blurring her vision. A single bead of blood glistened beneath the tip, staining the silver steel crimson. Acid eroded at a spot by her heart, burning so badly she retched.

“Please,” Brielle begged, unable to see the person restraining her. “I’ll give you whatever you want. Let us go. Please.”

“What I want,” a woman mocked in a childish voice, “is for Leif to surrender rule of the clans. And I think he will in exchange for you.”

With a sudden thud to the back of her head, everything went dark.