Page 15 of Wulver's Flame

Sköll needed a run before his mind descended into chaos.

Loki help him.

I’d let my pretty mate simmer a little longer. Let her stew in sweet confusion, in want she didn’t yet understand.

Soon.

She’d beg for me to take her pain away. Beg for my knot—the only thing to relieve her heat. Beg for my bite.

???

The sun shone brighter. The land, more beautiful.

Sköll’s happiness lit our heart up.

He pawed at the blue wildflowers—the same shade as Liùsaidh’s eyes.

Mate, he growled.

Almost…bashful.

You want me to pick flowers for her?

She tried to stab me with a hemlock-laced dagger, no less.I teased.

MATE!he snapped, full of force.

I’ll pick them once we’re back. I’m not walking home bare-arsed.

He settled, content.

???

She sat on the bed full of fury. Her eyes flicked to the clay vase brimming with wildflowers. The fury did not lessen.

“He wanted me to give them to you,” I said, setting the vase on the wooden chest.

“Who?” she snapped, her glare sharp enough to flay skin.

“Sköll. My wolf. Your mate.”

Her gaze darted behind me, like she half-expected a beast to step from the shadows.

Sköll’s nervous energy buzzed beneath my skin. It made me itch.

“Where is he?”

“Inside me,” I said.

She shook her head.“This isn’t natural. I was betrothed to Fergus before—”

Sköll erupted. Fury ignited like dry kindling, and his growl rumbled through my chest—long, low, and vicious.

“If you want him to live,” I said, voice like ice.“Never speak that name again. Sköll won’t hesitate to tear him apart. And I won’t stop him.”

The thought of another man wanting our mate made my fingers twitch with the urge to hunt. To rip out his throat and string the remains of his carcass up as a warning.

Her fire dimmed. Wariness flickered in her eyes, replacing the defiance.