Page 27 of Wulver’s Flame (Knotty #2)

Vargr

Asliver of fear stabbed through me as I thought she would reject our pup again, but the bond held no revulsion. There was only confusion, fear and flickers of astonishment. I gasped when her eyes flickered gold. Her wolf.

Skoll surged, snarling, trying to claw his way out of me.

NOT YET! I roared at him.

“úlfa mín, look at me,” I commanded sharply, plucking the ball of yarn from her lifeless fingers and tossing it aside.

She blinked several times, her chest rising and falling too fast.

“I was scared the child would kill me—like it did my mother—” she whispered, trailing off.

I exhaled slowly, relief bleeding into the bond. Many mortal women perished in childbirth, their bodies too frail for the task, but Fenrir had blessed his wolves with strength and life. My flameheart would not only endure, but thrive.

“Nothing like that will happen to you, my sweet. We live longer. We do not die easily.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, voice small. “My mother…she died.”

She looked away, and it stung more than it should have. She would have been a pup when she lost her mother. My flameheart was hurting.

I reached for her hands and gently tugged her upright.

“There was only one of me in this new land. Skoll was broken before you. I know you don’t believe in Fenrir’s blessing, but this fate, our bond? It is real and it is unbreakable,” I said, sitting on the bed to pull her onto my lap.

“We are unbreakable,” I murmured against her hair.

If the Gods ever tried to take her from me, I would tear the sky down in protest.

? ? ?

“She is prohibited from working in the kitchen, Brynhild. If I find her in here again—”

“Já, já, you will boil me in a vat of hot oil,” she shot back, waving a hand. “Between that and getting my head smashed with a clay pot, I barely sleep at night.”

I shook my head at her. I preferred it when she feared me, but I said nothing and took the platter from her hands.

Skoll sat to attention as we went to our mate. He refused to let me stray more than six paces from her. I understood the need to keep her safe, but he was becoming insufferable.

No sooner had I opened the door than her scent rolled over us, and by the Gods, it was not for food.

Her mischievous eyes peered out from beneath the furs, flame-red curls tumbling around her in lusty abundance. I barely paused to set the platter on the chest before shedding my clothes.

“I scent you are not hungry for food this morning sun,” I growled, stepping toward the bed.

She giggled and tossed the furs aside. Her long tunic had ridden up over her milky thighs, the fabric caught beneath the swell of her belly.

“Did you give Brynhild her daily threat?” she pouted when I climbed onto the bed, dripping over the furs as I reached her.

“I did. You’ve spoiled her. She no longer trembles when I enter the kitchen,” I said, peeling back the furs to uncover her swollen belly.

Fat with our pup. Glowing and as heavy as the full moon. A sight that made my cock ache and my chest tighten all at once.

“Brynhild fears no one,” she snorted. “Did you know she threw a spear at Bjorn’s head?”

“I think those two need to fuck or kill one another,” I muttered, parting her thighs.

Honey. Spring blossoms. Fire and wildflowers.

Her scent had changed with the pregnancy—richer, sharper, impossible to ignore. Nature’s trick to keep her mate near. To keep me feral with need. She only slept now with her pert nose buried in my neck. The place she bit when she was still fully mortal.

“I know which will make Brynhild happy even if she denies it,” she murmured, dragging her fingers through my hair.

I did not care. All I could see was my mate’s glistening, gaping bloom.

I gripped her tunic and carefully tugged it off, groaning when I saw her heavy breasts. The rosy tips of her nipples were fatter, perfect to suck on.

Her beauty mark and freckles were my roadmap to Valhalla. She shifted restlessly before placing her foot on my belly.

“Always hungry for more, no matter how many times I knot your sweet cunt,” I rasped before running my hand down her leg.

Her teeth caught her lower lip, biting down hard. My knot thickened, swelling in preparation. I let her foot fall and bent to worship her breasts where our pup would soon feed.

Skoll’s delight filtered through the bond just as my mouth sealed over her nipple. I suckled hard, swirling my tongue, lashing the swollen tip until she moaned aloud, threading her fingers through my hair.

The fresh scent of slick coated the air like perfume, thick and heady.

She is gushing for us, Skoll purred.

I ran my hand over the curve of her thigh, slow and reverent.

Her hips twitched under my touch, but I wasn’t rushing. I’d waited. I would savour.

I leaned in and kissed the beauty mark just beneath her left breast. The same one I’d licked during our heat. A sacred spot. A memory seared into my tongue.

“You were made for me,” I murmured against her skin. “Every freckle, every line…even your mark fits my neck.”

She gasped softly when my palm slid up her belly to cup the weight of it before my thumbs brushed the swells of her breasts.

Her breath hitched as I dragged my hand between her legs and whispered, “But it’s your bloom that tells the real story. Let me read it again.”

Her thighs parted instinctively as my fingers found the swell of her bloom, glistening and soft. I dragged two over her outer lips, slow and featherlight.

She twitched.

I smirked.

“You’re so wet,” I rasped, keeping the pressure maddeningly light. “Spilling over just from a few kisses like my good little whore.”

She whimpered and tried to rock her hips, but I stilled her with one firm hand to her belly.

“Ah, ah. Not yet.”

I traced lazy circles around her swollen pearl, never quite touching it. My fingers glided through her slick folds, up and down, spreading it until everything between her legs was wet and wanting.

“Please,” she whispered.

I tilted my head. “Please, what, flameheart?”

“You know what,” she hissed, grinding against my palm. Her cheeks were flushed, her chest rising fast.

“I want to hear you say it.” I slid one finger just inside—shallow, teasing—then withdrew it immediately. Her cunt clenched around nothing.

She gasped, near frantic. “Touch me properly, you beast!”

I chuckled low in my throat, eyes locked to her fluttering entrance. “Say you need my fingers first, then your cock.”

“ I-I need your fingers,” she stammered, breath catching. “Then your cock. Please.”

“There’s my good girl,” I murmured, and finally slid two slippery fingers into her cunt. Tight, hot, pulsing.