Page 29 of Wulver’s Flame (Knotty #2)
Vargr
The moment her scream tore through the longhouse, Skoll nearly clawed his way out of my skin.
“She’s fine,” Brynhild said through gritted teeth, shoving another steaming cloth into my hands. “You’re the one I’m worried about.”
Another howl echoed from the bedchamber. My knees nearly gave way.
“By the Gods, Vargr!” Liùsaidh roared. “I swear on Morrígan’s foot, I will slice your cock off and roast it over an open fire if you ever put it in me again!”
Skoll whined.
Brynhild didn’t even flinch. “That’s normal.”
“She said roast it—”
“Be glad she didn’t say eat it.”
I stood frozen at the door, cloth in one hand, heart in the other. My mate was a flame made flesh—and that flame was currently threatening to geld me with her bare hands.
“I’ll cut it off in chunks, Vargr! One slice for every thrust you gave me with that damned beast of yours!”
Brynhild shoved me aside. “If you’re going to stand there terrified of your husfreyja, at least boil more water.”
I obeyed. What else could I do?
Nothing I tried worked. It only made her angrier.
My wolf was howling, my bond was screaming, and somewhere in that firestorm of agony and glory…our pup was coming.
?
?
?
She gripped my forearm with a strength I didn’t know she possessed, sweat gleaming on her brow, her lips pulled back in a snarl.
“Gods curse you, Vargr! I hope your cock rots and falls off before I give you another bloody bairn!”
“That means it’s close,” Brynhild said calmly.
Liùsaidh screamed again, voice hoarse, body trembling. She was soaked with sweat, her thighs streaked with blood and the remnants of battle. The sheets were a battlefield. She was a warrior, and this was her war cry.
My chest burned. I wanted to tear the pain from her, take it all and make it mine. But I couldn’t. All I could do was hold her hand and whisper through clenched teeth, “You’re almost there, flameheart. Just one more push.”
Her eyes rolled back as she bore down again, her body rippling with the force of it. A strangled cry tore from her throat—half scream, half sob—as Brynhild reached between her thighs.
“The babe is crowning,” she said. “The child is coming.”
I knelt, heart hammering, unable to breathe as I watched. A head, slick with blood and fair hair, emerged. A shout from Liùsaidh, louder than before—then a final push and the sound I never expected to gut me, but it did.
A tiny cry. It got louder.
It was strong, piercing and furious.
A boy.
Skoll was silent. He was so overwhelmed with love that he froze. His silent gaze behind mine soaked our pup in. We inhaled his scent and absorbed it as ours.
Brynhild turned him over, quick and sure, then placed the wailing pup on his mother’s heaving chest. Liùsaidh sobbed, arms trembling as she cradled him to her breast. Our pup latched on instantly, ravenous as his tiny fists curled against her skin.
My knees buckled.
I leaned in, pressed a kiss to her temple, another to our pup’s damp head.
Brynhild gave us one lingering look, face unreadable, but eyes soft before slipping from the room.
I cupped Liùsaidh’s face, brushing damp curls from her cheek. She was pale, shining with exertion, yet more beautiful than ever.
“We’ll call him Taran,” I said softly.
She blinked up at me, dazed. “That’s…that’s not a Norse name. It’s one of mine.”
“Aye,” I teased, using her tongue. “It means thunder. He roared into this world as your thunderous threats still rang in my ears.”
Her laugh cracked into a sob. She pulled the pup closer.
“I am honoured to be your mate, Liùsaidh. To sire and call this thunder-born pup ours.”
Her eyes shimmered, blue as the summer sea, full of love and exhaustion. “You’re lucky I don’t bite your cock off after all that.”
I chuckled and kissed her again, deeper this time, while our son suckled at her breast like a ravenous little wolf.
Taran, son of the wolf and his flame.
Born of prophecy, blood and fate.
?
?
?
We sat and watched them, unable to take our eyes off them.
Taran had a ravenous appetite for food, just like his mother.
He ate and slept on repeat. My eyes flicked to my warrior flameheart.
I loved that I could be her outlet during childbirth.
Every thrall and warrior heard her wail like a goddess of war.
It was only fair since everyone knew how much she loved my cock.
My men rejoiced at the new arrival. Taran’s cries joined their bellows as I showed them the future Dróttinn.
But as I sat here with Skoll so close to the surface. I wondered how our father could have forsaken us. I leaned forward and pressed my smallest finger into Taran’s palm until it wrapped around me.
I vowed no matter what affliction befell him that I would never release his hand.
Never cast him aside.
Skoll's loud purr filled the room.
A faint smile appeared on Liùsaidh’s lips.
I curled up at the foot of the bed, watching over my future.