Page 55 of Heart of the Wolf
“Why?”
No hint of worry colored his tone. If anything, it was tinged with curiosity, adorned with his usual commanding timbre.
“Closure, I think. There is a small part of me that feels bad that my father doesn’t know what happened to me after never returning home that day. I am sure by now he assumes I’m dead.” Leif looked like he was about to say something, but Brielle continued. “Not only for him. But for me, too. I want to close that part of my life for good.Knowing what I know now about him and what he did. It feels unfinished.”
He relented quickly, gently scratching her scalp.
“If you wish it, it is yours.”
The knot in her chest uncoiled with her slow breath.
“While I trust Amund,” he added. “I will come. I do not like the idea of you going there without me.”
***
The sun rose leisurely, speckling the mountains in the distance with its clouded light. Winter came earlier than ever; its grasp now firm on the lands, a good month before it was expected. Brielle bathed, barely aware of her own movements as she got ready.
The air in the room thickened, almost choking her. Blood rushed in her ears, drowning out the background chatter as her heart hammered against her ribs like a war drum.
Leif explained to her the night before that she would return there as a Dróttning.
Ashis.
The mere memory of how he had said those words made a shiver shake her frame.
In the years since becoming Konungr, Leif never went to the village; it was always Amund.
Their presence alone would be a statement.
A powerful one.
So, she slipped into a woolen dress threaded with golden silks and delicate embroidery. Rough but gentle fingers fastened her ornate fur-lined cloak that rivaled the ceremonial one from their wedding day. He, too, wore an elegant cloak lined with obsidian fur, highlighting his regal features.
***
It was nearly a two-hour ride from their village to Brielle’s old home. Horses were a luxury growing up, and while she had ridden one before, it had only been for a few minutes.
To Leif’s chagrin, she agreed to ride with him and spare another horse from making the trek. Amund led the way on his silver mare, flanked by two others on each side, their horses trotting quickly through the thin layer of snow.
Leif hoisted her onto the back of a midnight black stallion. Flecks of snow sparkled like constellations on its coat. It nickered sweetly as Leif slipped into place behind Brielle, pulling her into his chest. His arm slipped snugly around her waist, holding her protectively while he gripped the horse’s mane, nudging it in the ribs to move.
Brielle found she quite enjoyed riding with Leif, and the feel of her body close to his. The subtle sway of the horse’s canter beneath them relaxed her, almost lulling her to sleep, especially when Leif’s tender touches brushed her belly.
“Almost there,” he said, dragging his teeth along her jaw.
Anxiety clawed at her chest, knowing they were close. She couldn’t quite place what exactly made her so nervous. Her heart started to flutter like the wings of a hummingbird in search of nectar. Subconsciously, her hand covered his, still resting on her stomach, seeking his comfort.
“Easy,” he soothed, his thumb stroking her knuckles. “It is them who should be frightened. They are meeting you, a Dróttning to the Konungr of these lands. You are powerful. You have no reason to be worried. Be proud, my tough, little firebird.”
Warm lips pressed to her pulse, a smile growing against her throat as sharp teeth grazed her flesh. His reassurances calmed her restless nerves, stitching together the tangled threads.
The flutter in her chest settled, and her breathing evened out, matching the steadiness of his behind her. Sighing, her head fell back until it collided with his hard body, resting there.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“For reminding me how strong I am.”
