Sköll softened, looking at the pup, and his fury abated, but he was still cautious about the pissdribble being so close to our mate. The pup looked behind me to where my men sparred.
“Do you want to watch my warriors fight?” I asked him, and Liùsaidh twisted around to face me.
By Fenrir’s knot. Her smile was the brightest I’d ever seen. It was aimed at us. Shining as radiant as the midday sun.
“Go on, Naillan. I know yae want to so yae cun brag when yae get back home,” she said, nudging the pup toward me.
I lifted and set him on my shoulders, his tiny legs dangling off my fur mantle. I strode towards my men as the pup clutched my head. He was part of our mate, and I found her smile to be most pleasing.
“Bjorn, keep an eye on the tall, dark-haired pissdribble,” I said as I walked past him.
He nodded once, but his eyes were already hunting the soft-palmed, sheep-licking son of a sow.
As the pup watched my men put on a show for him, my mate's tender heart beat through our bond. The bond surged and curled around me. My eyes closed as I wound my bond around hers until it throbbed.
One heartbeat.
Two souls.
The wolf and my flame.
No pissdribble could ever come between us.
Chapter 26
Liùsaidh
They were ready to leave by night-watching. The visit was too short and my Da chose to camp near the village, refusing to stay the night in his daughter’s marital home. I was packing food for them with Brynhild in the kitchen when Fergus came in. Brynhild eyed him warily before staring at me. I nodded to her, and she left.
“What dae yae want, Fergus?” I said coldly as he stood in front of me.
“Ah’v heard things about him. That he kept yae chained up an’—”
“Yae’ve got nae right tae talk about myhusbondilike that,” I hissed at him.
His jaw dropped at me using the Viking word for husband.
“Yae all led me on ma path here, so yae cun leave me be now. As yae can see, am fine.”
Before he could reply, Vargr’s shadow loomed over us. I blinked, and his sword was beneath Fergus’s beard.
“You dare to be alone with myhusfreyja? You are not of her blood, not of her kin, and I will gladly slice your throat open if you move,” he growled, and I heard his beast rumble in his chest.
Fergus’s eyes widened at the sound.
I thought of all the blood staining the kitchen floor and Brynhild’s never-ending nagging.
“If you are going to make one another bleed, take it outside,” I snapped at the pair of them.
Vargr’s eyes flashed golden, and I touched my chest. All of his mind poured into the bond. The feral need to protect me and our child. He couldn't bear the thought of another looking at me, let alone touching me. Beneath the fury and the instinct, there it was.
Fear. Cold and raw. Fear of losing me.
“Vargr,” I softly breathed his name.
I felt the warmth in my chest and pushed it toward him, weaving it through the bond. He blinked and his eyes returned to the deep blue colour.
Fergus reached for his dagger, and Vargr couldn't see. Without thinking, I picked up the clay pot beside me and smashed it over his head. He crumbled and dropped to the floor.