Page 28 of Heart of the Wolf
“Me. No,” Leif huffed. “What do you know of honor? I may not have hurt women and children, but what of others? You left them unprotected because of your own fear.”
Sensing no way out, the man on his left attacked, his red hair flying haloing behind him like a blood moon. Leif blocked his spear, spinning and striking his axe into the other man’s chest.
An inhuman howl pierced the musty air, the color draining from his face.
The other man tried to flee, but Leif was quicker. His blade drew across the backs of his knees. Before he could scream, the man collapsed, twitching as his chest rattledwith a final, wet breath. Leif rolled his shoulders, his neck cracking. The sounds from outside quieted until all he heard were a few muttered words.
He emerged from the depths of the cave, blood matted in his beard and staining his teeth. The metallic tang on his tongue fed a primal need as he licked the remnants from his mouth. Notching his axe on his hip, he found Amund, squeezing his shoulder in greeting. All of his men were alive, a few with fresh scars, but none in dire need of a healer.
“Let us return to our women,” Leif grinned, wiping blood from his face.
The trek home seemed to take longer than the one it took to get there. The sun taunted him, sinking faster and faster beneath the horizon. He had promised his firebird he would be home before dark, and it was one he intended to keep.
“Can you and the other men make your way home without me?” he asked Amund.
“Of course,” he responded, his mouth lifting in a knowing smirk. “You’re impatient. Go to her.”
A familiar surge of ancient magic stirred in his chest. With a deep, labored breath, he gave himself over to his wolf. His bones cracked and reformed, his muscles stretching across his haunches. Shaking out his fur, heraised his muzzle, scenting the air. His ears twitched, and he broke into a run.
Air swept around him, his paws thundering with each step. The woods blended in a muddled hue of greens and browns with only a singular thought on his mind. Getting home to his mate. The wind whipped through his thick fur until he reached the edges of the settlement.
Again, Odin’s magic took root, and he shifted back. He ran a hand over his jaw, pleased to see the last rays of the sun still peeking above the mountains. Pinks and oranges exploded across the sky, making the snow-capped peaks glow.
As if by their own accord, his feet led him to the longhouse. All the tension in his muscles faded, knowing what awaited him inside.
What would she be doing? Would she be sitting by the fire? Or would she be curled up under his furs in bed, making it smell of her? Every part of her was so ingrained in his life that it would never go away now. Not that he wanted it to.
Had she eaten?
A possessive sound stuck in his throat. She was still far too underfed. When he held her, he felt her ribs and hips poking against the skin. Soon, he would fix that, keeping her full and healthy. The sallow tinge to her cheeks wasalready gone, replaced by a pretty blush that highlighted her freckles.
He wondered if those freckles adorned other parts of her body. He wanted to map them with his tongue and create his own star chart of the cosmos on her body.
For a moment, he stood still in the archway of their home.
It was theirs now, even if she hadn’t acknowledged it yet. Everything he had belonged to her. His home, his gold, his heart. He would give it all to her and more just to see her smile.
She sat by the fire, the orange light illuminating her in a golden glow.
She looked like a goddess.
His goddess.
At some point, she had removed the leather ties from her hair, letting her curls hang wildly around her. They framed her face like a halo, making her appear even more ethereal.
Selfishly, he wanted to stay like that, taking in her beauty until he was drunk on it. Then he caught the scent of her, wildflowers and honey. Careful not to scare her, he went to her side. Starlight greeted him in her beautiful doe eyes.
“Hello, my wild girl. I’ve missed you,” he murmured.
Unable to keep himself from touching her, he ran his fingers through her hair. It was so thick and lush, reminding him of a meadow filled with flowers in the spring. His lips found her forehead, resting there for a long breath.
“You came back,” she said, bracketing his face in her tiny hands.
Soft skin caressed his scarred face. Unblemished and as pure as she was.
When she touched him, it was like every terrible thing he had ever done was forgiven. Her purity absolved him of all his darkness, and he was unworthy of being bathed in her light.
However, he was only human.
