Page 42 of Heart of the Wolf

Chapter twenty-two

Brielle

The days blurred together; Brielle was weaker than she realized.

Leif refused to let her leave their bed, saying she needed to rest until the baby came.

It didn’t help that whenever Astrid visited, she agreed with him.

While Brielle adored being doted on, she was restless and needed something to occupy her.

Every morning, Leif changed her dressing, kissing the wound as it faded a little more with each passing day. Despite her protests, he insisted on feeding her, bathing her, and braiding her hair.

The outside world ceased to exist. Nobody bothered them. Even though she pretended to hate all of Leif’s fussing, she secretly enjoyed it.

With Herja gone, much of the derision among the clans quieted. Amund tended to the day-to-day. While Brielle was happy to be home with her wolf, something unseen ticked in the background, chipping away at their precious alone time.

“Just until the baby comes,” he reassured. “Once Einar returns with the longships, I will sever the head from the serpent, and all this will be behind us.”

“Herja’s husband?” Brielle asked, thumbing the new wrap on her arm.

“Yes. Most have fallen in line. The rest will follow once he is gone. They were poison, and the clans will thrive once more with it cut out. Herja was my blood. It gave her and Einar sway within the clans.”

Rough fingers trailed over her collarbone, twirling errant curls and tugging before letting them bounce back into place.

“Do you have proof that Einar colluded with Herja?”

A pale brow arched at her, and she scowled back at him.

“I do not need proof. He is married to Herja. That is enough,” Leif said, a scathing bite to his tone.

The shift in his demeanor only hardened her resolve. He pressed two fingers to his temple, the veins in his hand flexing. A slow breath filled her chest before she exhaled, narrowing her eyes.

“Would you want me punished for your choices?”

“That is not what we are discussing.”

“Isn’t it?” she hissed. “Show restraint with Einar. There are other punishments that are just as damning as death.”

“You mean weakness.” A muscle jumped in his jaw.

Tenderly, she held his face, running her thumbs along the dark circles under his eyes. The tension in his body eased, but his face remained impassive, an unwavering resolve burning in the depths of his glowing eyes.

“There is strength in mercy. Sometimes more so than at the point of a blade.”

Glittering white teeth twinkled in the firelight as Leif swept his tongue along them. Two massive hands bracketed her face, the gentle caress at odds with the frustration pulsing in his temple.

“You want me to let a man live who could attack and threaten my kona? Our children?”

“No. I want you to show grace. If he is fool enough to test you again, then not even the gods can save him.”

Releasing her, he huffed, shaking his head.

“You are an infuriating woman.”

A small heap leaped onto the bed, Runa nuzzling into the crook of Brielle’s arms, prepared to pounce. The bushy tail cut through the air. Her bright eyes zeroed in on Leif like she would attack if he dared not to do as Brielle said.

“I yield,” he grumbled, throwing up his hands. “That cat cannot catch a mouse to save its life, but guards you like a Valkyrie.”

Pain laced through her abdomen like glass cutting through stone. Brielle’s face twisted, her fingers closing around Leif’s arm so tightly that blood dribbled beneath her nails. Stuttered breaths puffed through her clenched teeth as she tried to breathe past the burning sting.

“Hjartae mitt?” Leif clamped his hand over her own, unbothered by the blood trickling down his arm. “What is it?”

“Astrid,” she muttered. “Need Astrid.”

As the sting receded, she inhaled a deep lungful of air, her shoulders sagging into Leif’s extended arms. Her chest heaved with each long, slow breath.

A strong arm banded across her chest, the other running over the expanse of her belly.

Resilient fingers clung to his biceps, relenting her grip slightly to stroke soothing circles around his arm.

“It’s the baby. I think it’s time, Leif.”

Slowly, his eyes widened as the hard lines around his mouth and brows contorted. The arm around her chest tightened while he lathed tender kisses along her jaw. Brielle relaxed into him, knowing it was only for a moment.

“You’re going to have to let me go so you can get Astrid.”

A sigh escaped him as he reluctantly released her, dropping to his knees to press his lips to her belly.

“Are you sure?”

Deep gray eyes framed by creases stared back at her, giving little away. Yet, Brielle saw it. The elation, the joy. Even if it was tapered by an uncertainty that Leif would never admit.

“Yes,” she smiled, threading her fingers through his over her stomach.

Before she found Leif, Brielle had helped many women through childbirth. She was in the early stages and had time before the pain retook her. That meant Leif could adjust as needed, but she needed him to fetch Astrid sooner rather than later.

Gently, Brielle nudged his chest, the wall of muscle unyielding to her touch. “Go. I will be fine until she arrives.”

Insistent lips captured hers in a searing kiss that made her body hum. A wide grin met hers as Leif begrudgingly pulled away, brushing wispy hairs off her face. With a final peck on her temple, he left. Brielle ran her hands over her bump, tossing her head back into the cocoon of pillows.

“Soon, little one. I cannot wait to meet you,” she cooed.

***

Leif

A well-worn path appeared in the dirt beneath Leif’s boots as he paced hurriedly in front of the door to his home. Loud sobs and pained groans pierced the quiet night, making hair prickle on the back of his neck.

For such a tiny thing, his sister was surprisingly strong. She hadn’t needed Liv’s help shooing Leif from the house once she arrived with the redhead in tow.

Nobody batted an eye when Leif commanded them as their Konungr to let him stay, and now he found himself pacing in the midnight sun as Amund watched him. Joy and concern mixed into the lines of his face when he rose from the log he was perched on.

“úlfr,” Amund said, gripping Leif’s shoulders and shaking them. “Calm yourself. It has only been half a day. Everything is normal. You cannot be a mess when your kona is in there being strong.”

A low, warning growl trembled in his chest, his wolf daring to break free.

On the other side of the door was the other half of his heart and soul, and she was in pain, and there was nothing he could do.

Expected or not, he had already let her suffer too much.

Icy shards of the wolf sparked in his gaze, making Amund squeeze his shoulders tighter.

“Still yourself. Do not make my moon embarrass you again,” he chuckled as Leif shoved him away with a half-hearted laugh. “Imagine if the clans knew our powerful Konungr was easily bested by his little sister.”

Once the sun had set and the stars rose, Leif relented, collapsing on a log beside Amund.

The embers hissed and sputtered toward the night sky, the flames staving off the summer chill in the darkness.

Picking at his rabbit, Leif pushed the uneaten food in Amund’s direction, and then the door squeaked open.

Out walked Liv, red hair tied into a thick braid that cascaded over her shoulder. Dark circles appeared on the thin skin under her eyes, creases forming around the corners. When her gaze found Leif and Amund, a warm, tired smile met them.

Jumping to his feet, Leif stood before Liv in two long strides, searching her pensive features.

The house was quiet, save for a sweet humming noise, and it made the hair on his arms stand on end.

He couldn’t decide what was worse, the sound of his Brielle in pain or the guttural silence that foreshadowed something ominous.

Amund joined Leif at his side.

Liv brushed her braid behind her, heaving a deep breath. “They are both doing well. Would you like to see them now?” she asked, gesturing inside.

Unaware of his movements, he stumbled inside as the world around him vanished into a misty haze that resembled a hot summer morning. He only partially saw Astrid moving about the home, arms brimming with blood-streaked tunics and clothes.

There on the bed was his Brielle, and with that, all the blurred edges came into focus. Dried sweat clung to her flushed face, her freckles dancing in the firelight.

Exhaustion mingled with her otherwise beautiful features as strands of loose curls stuck to her neck. She was propped up in the bed, furs tangled around her ankles. Despite how hard she had worked, the smile on her lips only grew wider when she saw him.

A tired finger beckoned him. In her arms, she rocked the most delicate baby he had ever seen. Their pale skin was wrapped securely in fine linen, tucked protectively into his firebird’s chest.

Soft wisps of silver-blonde hairs blew atop their child’s head. Even with Brielle’s cooing and gentle swaying, their baby fussed, quiet cries rolling from their lips.

Falling to his knees, he offered a silent prayer to Freyja.

His head hit the furs beside Brielle’s hip, his braids framing his tired face.

Gentle fingers carded through the loose locks, her nails massaging his scalp.

A deep sigh rolled through him as he looked into her sparkling gaze.

Cold sweat coated his palm as he cradled her nape, urging her lips to his in a sweet kiss.

“Look at what you did,” he said, staring at the baby in her arms. “So proud of you, so strong.”

“What we did,” she corrected, her voice scratchy.

Leif frowned, plucking a skin of water from a nearby table. “Drink,” he commanded, holding it to her lips.

A weak laugh spilled from her dry lips as she opened her mouth, allowing the liquid to slide down her throat without protest. When the skin was empty, Leif tossed it aside, hovering a callused hand over their baby’s head.