Page 82 of Heart of the Wolf
“Herja’s husband?” Brielle asked, thumbing the new wrap on her arm.
“Yes. Most have fallen in line. The rest will follow once he is gone. They were poison, and the clans will thrive once more with it cut out. Herja was my blood. It gave her and Einar sway within the clans.”
Rough fingers trailed over her collarbone, twirling errant curls and tugging before letting them bounce back into place.
“Do you have proof that Einar colluded with Herja?”
A pale brow arched at her, and she scowled back at him.
“I do not need proof. He is married to Herja. That is enough,” Leif said, a scathing bite to his tone.
The shift in his demeanor only hardened her resolve. He pressed two fingers to his temple, the veins in his hand flexing. A slow breath filled her chest before she exhaled, narrowing her eyes.
“Would you want me punished for your choices?”
“That is not what we are discussing.”
“Isn’t it?” she hissed. “Show restraint with Einar. There are other punishments that are just as damning as death.”
“You mean weakness.” A muscle jumped in his jaw.
Tenderly, she held his face, running her thumbs along the dark circles under his eyes. The tension in his body eased, but his face remained impassive, an unwavering resolve burning in the depths of his glowing eyes.
“There is strength in mercy. Sometimes more so than at the point of a blade.”
Glittering white teeth twinkled in the firelight as Leif swept his tongue along them. Two massive hands bracketed her face, the gentle caress at odds with the frustration pulsing in his temple.
“You want me to let a man live who could attack and threaten my kona? Our children?”
“No. I want you to show grace. If he is fool enough to test you again, then not even the gods can save him.”
Releasing her, he huffed, shaking his head.
“You are an infuriating woman.”
A small heap leaped onto the bed, Runa nuzzling into the crook of Brielle’s arms, prepared to pounce. The bushy tail cut through the air. Her bright eyes zeroed in on Leif like she would attack if he dared not to do as Brielle said.
“I yield,” he grumbled, throwing up his hands. “That cat cannot catch a mouse to save its life, but guards you like a Valkyrie.”
Pain laced through her abdomen like glass cutting through stone. Brielle’s face twisted, her fingers closing around Leif’s arm so tightly that blood dribbled beneath her nails. Stuttered breaths puffed through her clenched teeth as she tried to breathe past the burning sting.
“Hjartað mitt?” Leif clamped his hand over her own, unbothered by the blood trickling down his arm. “What is it?”
“Astrid,” she muttered. “Need Astrid.”
As the sting receded, she inhaled a deep lungful of air, her shoulders sagging into Leif’s extended arms. Her chest heaved with each long, slow breath. A strong arm banded across her chest, the other running over the expanse of her belly. Resilient fingers clung to his biceps, relenting her grip slightly to stroke soothing circles around his arm.
“It’s the baby. I think it’s time, Leif.”
Slowly, his eyes widened as the hard lines around his mouth and brows contorted. The arm around her chest tightened while he lathed tender kisses along her jaw. Brielle relaxed into him, knowing it was only for a moment.
“You’re going to have to let me go so you can get Astrid.”
A sigh escaped him as he reluctantly released her, dropping to his knees to press his lips to her belly.
“Are you sure?”
Deep gray eyes framed by creases stared back at her, giving little away. Yet, Brielle saw it. The elation, the joy. Even if it was tapered by an uncertainty that Leif would never admit.
