Page 22 of Heart of the Wolf
The muscles in his back rippled as he shimmied into his tunic, the silk whispering over his pale torso. Brielle watched, greedily taking her fill of his toned body.
“I will teach you,” he nodded. He kneeled on the pile of feathers and furs, leaning in until their mouths were a breath apart. “Take a bath. The basin should be fresh. While you are cleaning, I will have food and clothes brought for you. Meet me outside when you’re ready.”
“All right. Yes,” she breathed, unable to tell him no.
The words barely left her lips before he claimed them. His mouth was firm against hers, his fingers angling her jaw slightly to give him better access.
She moaned, a pretty, sleepy sound, and he slipped his tongue into her mouth. The remnants of tart wine and sweet fruit lingered on his tongue. He licked deeper into her mouth, taking more and more until she was pliant and flushed in his hold.
Crimson stained her chest and cheeks as heat pooled low in her belly. The spot between her thighs started to ache, an unfamiliar throb making her hips cant into nothingness. She grew dizzy with the intensity as he ended their kiss, nudging the hinge of her jaw with his nose.
“Pretty girl.”
Without another word, he vanished, leaving her dazed and breathless. Once the heat receded from her cheeks, she padded to the far side of the cabin to find still-warm water in the bronze tub. It wasn’t until she removed her dress that she realized how wet she was at the crux of her thighs. She flushed again, sinking into the water.
She washed quickly, water dripping off her skin. Grabbing the wool cloth from nearby, she dried herself, walking out into the main room.
Someone had stoked the fire, and the air was pleasantly warm on her naked skin. Laid out on the bed were an arrayof clothes. Her eyes widened, ignoring the overflowing tray of nuts, apples, and meats.
Afraid she might ruin the garments, she trailed the material with only her fingertips. There was a stack of tunic dresses made of the richest wool she had ever felt. Beside them were even finer apron dresses dyed in shades of crimson and indigo with subtle patterns woven into the material.
A new cloak, lined with tawny furs so thick that she doubted any breeze could penetrate it, waited for her. Next to that sat a bowl filled with glass beads, golden brooches, and other decorative pieces that she had no business having.
Brielle stared, her chest tight. When Leif said he would have clothes brought, she didn’t imagine this. These were garments fit for a… she paused, not allowing the thought to solidify into something she wasn’t ready to face.
Behind the cloak sat two pairs of leg wraps that she overlooked. They were like the ones she saw the women wearing who fought with Amund.
Like most women, she had only ever worn dresses. If Leif was going to train her, wraps would be the more sensible option. The wool cloth covering her shoulders fell, and she slipped the leg wraps into place, securing the ties around her hips.
Once fully clothed, she drained the skin of water before eating the plate of food. With her sad excuse for a sword in hand, she made her way outside.
Sunlight gleamed off his porcelain face, and she licked away a speck of drool from her lips. Leif sat sprawled out on a log, the picture of brutal elegance, effortlessly maneuvering his blade beneath the hide of a rabbit.
Upon seeing her, he smiled, storing his dagger in his boot, and laying the rabbit by the fire to cure. She nibbled her lip; the sword held awkwardly in front of her. His axe swung on his hip as he moved, his towering form blocking the sun.
“You smell like flowers,” he murmured, his scarred fingers easily guiding her mouth to his like they had been together for years. “Did you like the clothes?” he asked, scanning her for signs of unhappiness.
“Like?” she choked. “These are... they are... I have never worn anything this nice.”
He nodded, looking at the blade in her hands with narrowed eyes. Slowly, he reached out for it, arching his brow. She dipped her chin, handing it to him. The hilt balanced in his outstretched hand. A scowl settled across his features as he huffed, shaking his head. Moving behind her, he lowered her old sword to the ground and returned with a different weapon.
Its blade glittered like fresh ice as the polished steel caught the sunlight. Leif watched her, resting the sword on his palms and presenting it to her. Fresh leather wrapped around the handle, imbued with amber stones. Her fingers brushed over the gems, moving lower to trace the runes carved in the material.
Tears shone in her eyes when she looked up, daring to meet his gaze. It was warm, soothing a long-forgotten part of her that ached for acceptance.
“What do these mean?” she asked, pointing to the runes.
“This one is protection.” He pointed, trailing his thumb reverently across the intricate markings. “And that one is for strength. And those are balance and partnership. This last one, justice and victory.” His strong fingers showed her each in turn, eyes flicking up to watch her as he went.
The tears fell unbidden, streaking her pink cheeks. She covered her face, unable to look at him as too many emotions weighed on her. It was as though he had chosen each rune to instill value in something crafted especially for her. Two warm, callused hands followed the dips of her waist, far too gentle for how rough they were.
“Why are you crying?” he asked, flicking away the tears with his thumb. “Would you prefer a spear?”
“No. No,” she laughed, sniffling at the absurdity of it all. “This is perfect. It’s…” She blinked, staring up at him through glassy eyes. “I’ve never. This is too much. The clothes. The sword. What about everyone else? I shouldn’t have things as fine as this when others need…”
He growled, cutting her off with a bruising kiss. She melted into him, letting him take his fill. When he pulled away, he shoved the sword into her hand, taking her fingers in his and curling them around the hilt.
“You are worthy of much more than this. Our people do not suffer. They have full bellies and happy lives. We do not need to go without, so they can live. If you stay here with me, I will give you much more. My kona will be draped in all I can provide. Wools and furs, silks and jewels, weapons and lands, and more.”
