Page 60 of Heart of the Wolf
Nodding, her thumb bounced over his thudding pulse. So many saw his wolf as a herald of destruction. But to her, it was so much more. It was a symbol of them, of the moment she recognized him without seeing him. When his wolf saved her, it called to a part of her that had always belonged to him.
Bright pinks and lavenders streaked above as the inky night twisted around the lights flickering in the sky. Huffing a small laugh, she stared wide-eyed at the morphing sky. Stretched above her were the songs of the gods and the sagas of the cosmos. The power of it was as potent as any story whispered by the skalds. It called to her, soothing every worry.
Soft lips brushed against her forehead, Leif stroking her nape.
“Do you know what we say of the dancing lights?” he murmured.
“What?”
“Some say it is the moonlight reflecting off the Valkyries’ armor, coming to guide worthy souls to Valhalla. Others say it’s a bridge between our world and the gods. If we were to follow the lights, we would arrive in Asgard.”
“Which do you believe?” she asked.
“In this moment. I think it’s Freyja, smiling down at us. Don’t you see it, hjartað mitt? It’s our story written inthe stars. She is celebrating two fated souls, rejoining as one. Our bond is weaving together the splintered sky with color.”
Sometimes the poetry Leif weaved with words shocked her. By now, she thought she would be used to it. Maybe in another life, he was destined to be a skald. She swayed in his arms, grinning as the wind stung her cheeks. Closing her eyes, her mind wandered, thinking of who they were in other lives. Who she was.
“My pretty kona,” he said, the word muffled as he nuzzled her curls. “I have loved you for a thousand lifetimes.”
“Only a thousand,” she teased.
Under the lights, Leif was all she had ever known.
He chuckled, his warm breath blowing a curl off her face. “Give me time, and I will add a millennium more to it.”
Nimble fingers worked elegantly over the clasp of his cloak, removing it and spreading the thick wools out across the snow in front of the fire as a blanket. Sparks sputtered off the logs, sizzling and melting into nothingness as they hit the ground.
“Sit,” Leif said, flicking his eyes to a spot by his feet.
“Demanding.”
The tip of his tongue licked along his teeth, the points elongating into fangs. Laughing, she stood on her tiptoes,and he kissed her forehead. Her nails raked through his hair, thumbing the knobs on his braids. Having had her fun, she lowered herself onto his cloak, shifting closer to the fire.
Brilliant indigo and gold sparks sputtered around him, casting long, twinkling shadows along the frost-glazed ground. The transformation from man to wolf was as terrifying as it was mesmerizing. Paws lumbered beneath a towering figure as two sparkling eyes blinked at her, shining like pure ice crystals.
The ground shook under her as her wolf sat, making a disbelieving laugh tickle in the back of her throat. A chuff puffed past his muzzle as he curled around her, positioning her tiny frame in the crook of his body. Fur as soft as silk flicked against her legs, settling there. Hot breath fanned against her cheeks, his large muzzle resting on her belly.
His eyes blew wide. One ear perked up and twitched while the other flopped at the side.
Shaking his head, her wolf calmed once more. She followed suit, burying her face in his chest. Each heavy breath raised her head, sending a soothing pulse down her spine with the familiar beating of his heart.
Cocooned by her wolf and the fire, she almost forgot they were outside. The lights still danced above them. Brielle traced the movements on Leif’s fur, whispering a story that came to her while lying under the night sky.
“Before the sun and sky, there were the moon and stars.” A quiet rumble purred in his chest, and she continued. “With each new star, another soul appeared. Mournful night plunged the stars into perpetual darkness. Freyja wept for her children, determined to make them whole. With the help of her lover, she created the light to their dark, the other half to their souls.”
A yawn stretched her limbs, and Brielle closed her eyes, still running her nails through Leif’s velvety fur. Of course, it wasn’t a real verse, nothing of the poetry or sagas told by the skalds.
But to her, it was something tangible. Freyja led her to her moon and stars. Lost in that thought, she slipped into a deep sleep, lulled by the rhythmic rise and fall of her wolf’s chest.
***
Before even realizing she had fallen asleep, light pushed against her eyelids, making her groan. A low laugh echoed in her ear. Wrapped up in wool and furs, she swayed gently. Blinking, a sleepy smile pushed against her cheeks. Leif grinned back at her, his lips molding to hers in a lazy kiss that made her want to strip him of his tunic and straddle his thighs.
Unfortunately, they were in the middle of the village. Little girls giggled as Leif carried her home, gossiping about how in love their Konungr was.
“You’re getting a reputation,” Brielle teased, twirling one of the ties of his tunic around her finger.
“It would appear so. Everyone knows how soft their Konungr is for his kona.”
