I screamed.
The pain ripped through me like fire licking along every joint, every scar, every memory. My spine snapped backwards, and I fell, my fingers digging into the earth as my body burned itself clean. I felt every old fear, every moment of shame, leave me. Torn away with every crack of bone, every twist of sinew.
And then it was done.
No chains. No collar. No ink markings.
I stared into the pool. I saw her. Silver fur that shone like starlight. Eyes like fire-kissed gold. Exquisite. My paws sank into the soft moss, and my breath came out in a steaming snort.
Free.
Finally, free.
The bond lit up like lightning in my chest—no longer dull, no longer uncertain. I felt Vargr. I felt Sköll. And I felt her.
All four parts connected together.
A thrill surged through my limbs, and I leapt.
The rock pool blurred beneath me. The moon caught in my eyes as I soared past it. For a moment, I wasn’t a woman, mother, or treaty bride.
I was at one with nature.
Truly free.
Sköll howled and erupted from Vargr, his dark form breaking through the trees just as I landed. He skidded to a halt, his golden eyes wide were stunned. Then I felt the reverence.
I playfully pushed against him through our bond before turning my muzzle to him and bared my teeth in a wild grin.
His tail dropped. He submitted, for the first time in his life.
For a moment, I was shaken, but then I remembered who I was.
Liùsaidh Flamehair of Dunraith. I was no one’s prey.
We were both wolves, but I was his flame.
And our names would echo forever.
Epilogue
Liùsaidh
Eight Years Later
Isighed at the grunts and thuds of men wrestling outside. There would be no peace to finish my work today. I carefully gathered the parchment and tucked it into the chest beside me. My written words may not withstand the test of time, but I wanted to leave our story behind. The story of the wolf and the human promised every life through time.
My dagger rested in the chest, its familiar sight drawing a smile to my lips. A lifetime ago, I was a blood-hot maiden swearing vengeance on Norsemen. I still longed to skewer my husband occasionally, but my restraint was legendary. The pups would miss their father if I ever gave in.
My chest stirred, and I closed my eyes for a moment, shutting out the clatter of play and battle. I could no longer imagine life without Vargr or our pups. This home we built—this den—was more than shelter. It was safety. It was ours.
Six strong pups filled our hearth with howls and laughter. Vargr and Sköll had never strayed far from their sides. There was no truer guardian than Sköll, no gentler hand than Vargr’s for those born of his seed. They were fierce, yes—but their hearts beat only for our kin.
Úlfa stirred within me—my silver-furred shadow. She had given me strength, warmth, and a body that bore each season like spring, renewing me. I would never forget our first run with Sköll. He, too, had been reborn. No longer the savage beast cast out from his kind. He had love and purpose.
From beyond the door came the familiar clash of voices—Brynhild’s sharp tongue and Bjorn’s booming laugh. She was no longer a thrall, but a wife. A loud one. That missing tooth never dulled Bjorn’s smile, nor did it stop him from playing the fool with our children.
I placed a hand on my belly, full again. Our seventh stirred within me, still three moons from the birthing. My heat had slowed, the seasons creeping toward autumn within my bones. I wondered how many more would come. If Sköll had his wish, I would be chained to the bedding, round with pups until the end of days.