Page 47 of Wulver's Flame

He didn’t need to.

That was the cruelty.

He didn’t need hands or teeth—he twisted me from the inside. Turned my chest, my womb, into something soft and stupid.

A man could plant his seed and make you crave it even if you hated him.

I didn’t ask for this bond. I didn’t ask to feel like this, but now I burned for him, and he knew it.

???

I wiped my tears away and admitted defeat. The golden destroyer could reach into my chest and twist my mind against me. I couldn't escape. This was worse than the chains. This—thingwas inside me.

“I will come down,” I whispered in shame.

“Jump and I will catch you.”

I didn’t look at him. Couldn’t. I was beyond caring.

I rolled off the branch, and mid-fall, I panicked.

The ground rushed up. My heart seized.

Something hard slammed into my back, stealing my breath.

Thick arms gripped me.

“You stubborn girl. You didn't even look where you fell,” he growled.

I didn't say anything, but I clung to his heat, reluctantly placing my hand on the soft hair on his chest.

He sighed heavily before carrying me home.

???

He didn’t say a word the entire walk home. He stopped tormenting me until only a warmth remained in my chest, strangely soothing, unsettling. It made me consider many things—my choices, mistakes and the world around me.

Unfairness was baked into every part of it—our invasion proved that. Being born a woman to a chieftain meant handfasting for alliance, no different than what my sisters endured.

Now, I was his.

The cursed beast that I could never outrun. Yet he hadn’t beaten me. He didn't starve me, but he wasn't a man. He had an angry mutt living inside of him.

I rested my hand over my belly, thinking of what could be inside me.

Vargr lit the oil lamp.

“I tried to be patient with you, Liùsaidh. To give you time to adjust. This is unacceptable. You could have been hurt or worse. Did you even stop to consider the child? Our child.”

My lips trembled.

I kept my eyes down and shook my head once.

I couldn’t speak—not with my throat thick with guilt.

I hadn’t thought of the child. It was an innocent. I hadn’t thought of anything but running.

Just away.