Page 11 of Wulver’s Flame (Knotty #2)

Liùsaidh

Irubbed the dried porridge from my chin, but didn't remember any falling from my spoon. My eyes flicked up to see him gawking at me, my beastly captor who supplied me with delicious food.

He cleared his throat and picked up his bowl. He held a spoonful of the creamy concoction to my lips, and I opened my mouth. It was lighter than cheese, tangy and full of cream, better than the porridge, and best of all, it had honey in it.

I didn't want to like it, but the creamy substance melted in my mouth.

“Thank you,” I said, snatching the bowl from his hands.

He chuckled and handed me his spoon.

“Eat up. You will need every bite to keep that sharp tongue of yours,” he said, picking up a piece of smoked eel.

I ignored his quip. I’d heard much worse.

“What is this? I've never tasted anything like it,” I said, desperately trying not to moan.

“Skyr. It is made from milk, thickened and strained. The thrall that cooks for me is from my homeland. Brynhild.”

“Why did you come here?” I asked, putting my spoon in the bowl.

A dark look flitted across his face. There was a long silence, and I thought he wouldn't answer.

“Skoll lost control, and I lost control of him. We harmed many. My father exiled us,” he said, shifting away from me.

Anger flared up inside me when I thought of how he and his beast threatened Dunraith. My people. My kin.

I slammed the bowl down.

“Yer Da thought it wuz a good idea to plant you and yer beast here? In ma homeland? If it isnae you Norse swines invading us, then it’s the Sasunnaich‘s fae the south,” I snarled in my tongue.

“Calm yourself,” he said coldly.

“Calm masel’? I’ll gie yae calm,” I said, pouring the skyr over his head.

His thunderous face would have been amusing if it were not for the fact that I wasted the mouthwatering food on his thick head.

The white cream dripped off his nose and landed on his lap. Another dripped down his beard.

My lips quivered, but it was no use.

“Aye, who’s the scary beast now?” I said before, a peal of laughter escaped me.

I laughed so hard that I almost let go of my bladder, but the sad reality pierced through me like diving into the winter loch. The tears of laughter turned sour.

“Yer aw the same,” I whispered as tears broke free. “Yeh dae nothing but take an’ steal fae us.”

It hit me like a stone wall—the tension I had felt since I found out about Wulverson’s deal with my Da, the constant anger, missing my family and home, and my new husband chaining me like an animal. It finally broke me.

The bed moved, but I didn't.

I wasn't looking to see what the beast would do. I didn't care. The bitter sobs racked through me as tears flooded down my face. I’d held it together too long. There was no one left to pretend for.

The bed dipped. He was behind me.

Silent.

He put his arms around me.

I didn't have the energy to shrug him off.

But the truth was worse. His strong grip, rocking me, offered me comfort.

“I’m sorry—so sorry. I swear to you that I will keep my oath. Dunraith will be protected,” he whispered to me. “They are kin through marriage now.”

I stiffened at his words.

“You will never harm them?” I asked hesitantly, switching back to his tongue.

“Unless anyone tries to harm you, then no, I will never harm a single hair on their heads,” he confirmed, kissing my shoulder.

His chest rumbled, and the beast purred. The vibrations seeped through my back, soothing me until I leaned back onto him.

“That’s my beast pledging his oath to you,” he murmured against my hair.

“Gods help me,” I sniffed.

?

?

?

The days passed by, but nothing changed. He still kept me in chains when we were at home. The simmering anger in me was at a boiling point. His weak excuses of ‘losing’ me were infuriating. Yet I couldn't bring myself to vow that I’d never leave. He caught me in one weak moment.

I wouldn't let my guard down again.

When I heard his heavy footsteps, I turned my back to him, facing the wooden wall. If only he kept weapons in this room.

“Is minn hjartlogi still angry with me?” he murmured when I didn't move.

“I’m not your flameheart. You're keeping me chained to your bed. May the wrath of—”

“Are your Gods going to strike me down?” he interrupted with a low chuckle.

My head twisted over my shoulder. “With lightning and brimstone.”

His hair was perfectly braided on either side of his face. The handsome demon smirked at me. His trickery wouldn't work on me. I spat in his direction and faced my wall. Cursing him and the chain around my neck.

He settled behind me, pulling me down until I lay flat on my back. I folded my arms across my chest, eyes fixed on the dark wood above, avoiding the looming beast above me.

“You’re here for my beast and your safety,” he said softly, stroking my hair. “If you left, Skoll would tear this island apart looking for you. You’re safe as long as I have you in front of me.”

He raked his fingers through my hair and I suppressed a shudder, clenching my thighs together.

What was this new trickery?

“My beautiful flameheart,” he murmured low and deep until my belly trembled.

Magic?

Demon magic?

I placed a hand on my heart.

It beat erratically, racing and on fire.