Page 38 of Heart of the Wolf
Brielle
In the week between Leif’s announcement to the clans and the feast, he spoiled Brielle, lavishing her with silk tunics, woolen dresses, finely crafted leather bodices, and an array of beautiful furs that she tried to turn away.
It was too much, and she couldn’t accept them. Leif refused her, filling the chests in his home with more clothes and adornments than she ever needed.
Also, he granted her a newly crafted spear and an intricately carved bow. The runes on the bow matched those of the ones on the first sword he gifted her.
“For my strong girl. We will practice. Find which you like best.”
The hands around her waist held her tighter as her fingers bounced along the points of the spear. It was far lighter than she imagined. She smirked, imaging herself hidden in the leaf litter, drawing the bowstring back to her lips.
A stolen sword was her only option up to this point. Now, with all these choices, she was curious which one she would favor. Leif stroked the column of her throat, chasing the gooseflesh he left with his teeth, grinning at the shiver he caused.
“While I am gone today, will you check on the families we brought back? Make sure they are comfortable and settled.”
The women were reluctant to trust anyone, keeping their children locked away in the homes Leif had given them. He left them to grieve, not wanting to force his presence on them. That didn’t mean he would allow them to believe they weren’t welcome here. They were as much a part of the clan as anyone else.
However, she expected him to send Astrid, not her.
“Why me?”
A low hum vibrated her spine. He kissed her pulse, leaning back to braid her hair. She relaxed into this touch; their morning routine of him tending to her before leaving now well established.
“You are my kona.” She opened her mouth to correct him, snapping it shut when he tugged her curls in warning. “Do not fight it, Brielle. If anyone can make them feel safe here, it is you.”
Maybe she’d be able to bridge the divide. Leif had killed their husbands. While it was ultimately because of their cowardice and to offer better protection to the families under his rule, they likely hadn’t seen it that way. Not yet. If they were already uncertain, the Konungr arriving at their doorstep would frighten them. But his wife would be seen as a peace offering.
Even if, technically, she wasn’t his wife yet.
“I will do it. I’m not sure how much it will help. But I will try. What are you doing today?”
His lips grazed her temple, his beard a faint rasp on her skin as he rose. She watched greedily, appreciating the toned lines flexing on his stomach while he dressed. When he caught her, she didn’t flush, instead leaning in to get a better look.
He chuckled, securing the clips on his leathers. “This morning, we’ll ensure all the clans have enough supplies to last the winter. The deep freeze has held off, but it won’t for long.”
The furs brushed her knees, and she dipped her fingers into the waist of his breeches, attempting to drag him backinto their bed. His gaze darkened, flicking between her lips and the place where she touched him.
“You are bold,” he said, his voice low and tinged with heat.
“And whose fault is that?”
With a silent, shaking laugh, he raised a brow in her direction, and she took the opening to offer some advice.
“Send people to forage where the forest meets the sea. Herbs are abundant there. The spray from the ocean keeps them plentiful. After a day’s work, their baskets will overflow with willow, yarrow, and sage. Enough to heal all the clans through next spring,” she said.
“Thank you,” he said, letting his lips linger on her cheek. “So clever and so needy. As much as I want to crawl into this bed with you and spend the whole day making you mine, I can’t. I’ll be back before nightfall.”
***
Brielle descended into the heart of the village, her fingers rubbing the smooth stone dangling from her necklace. For a moment, she thought of her father. By now, he likely believed her dead, having never returned from the forest. To an extent, she was. That version of Brielle no longer existed.
The young English healer who craved her father’s affections vanished that day in the woods. Instead, she was to marry the Konungr. Now someone capable of wieldinga blade. Now able to braid Leif’s hair in the evenings, like he did for her in the mornings.
Every night, he brought home fresh game, feeding her from his fingers.
Every night, he took her to his bed. A bed that would soon be theirs.
Every night, he wrung pleasure from her until she sobbed his name.
