Page 83 of Heart of the Wolf
“Yes,” she smiled, threading her fingers through his over her stomach.
Before she found Leif, Brielle had helped many women through childbirth. She was in the early stages and had time before the pain retook her. That meant Leif could adjust as needed, but she needed him to fetch Astrid sooner rather than later.
Gently, Brielle nudged his chest, the wall of muscle unyielding to her touch. “Go. I will be fine until she arrives.”
Insistent lips captured hers in a searing kiss that made her body hum. A wide grin met hers as Leif begrudgingly pulled away, brushing wispy hairs off her face. With a final peck on her temple, he left. Brielle ran her hands over her bump, tossing her head back into the cocoon of pillows.
“Soon, little one. I cannot wait to meet you,” she cooed.
***
Leif
A well-worn path appeared in the dirt beneath Leif’s boots as he paced hurriedly in front of the door to hishome. Loud sobs and pained groans pierced the quiet night, making hair prickle on the back of his neck.
For such a tiny thing, his sister was surprisingly strong. She hadn’t needed Liv’s help shooing Leif from the house once she arrived with the redhead in tow.
Nobody batted an eye when Leif commanded them as their Konungr to let him stay, and now he found himself pacing in the midnight sun as Amund watched him. Joy and concern mixed into the lines of his face when he rose from the log he was perched on.
“Úlfr,” Amund said, gripping Leif’s shoulders and shaking them. “Calm yourself. It has only been half a day. Everything is normal. You cannot be a mess when your kona is in there being strong.”
A low, warning growl trembled in his chest, his wolf daring to break free. On the other side of the door was the other half of his heart and soul, and she was in pain, and there was nothing he could do. Expected or not, he had already let her suffer too much. Icy shards of the wolf sparked in his gaze, making Amund squeeze his shoulders tighter.
“Still yourself. Do not make my moon embarrass you again,” he chuckled as Leif shoved him away with a half-hearted laugh. “Imagine if the clans knew our powerful Konungr was easily bested by his little sister.”
Once the sun had set and the stars rose, Leif relented, collapsing on a log beside Amund. The embers hissed and sputtered toward the night sky, the flames staving off the summer chill in the darkness. Picking at his rabbit, Leif pushed the uneaten food in Amund’s direction, and then the door squeaked open.
Out walked Liv, red hair tied into a thick braid that cascaded over her shoulder. Dark circles appeared on the thin skin under her eyes, creases forming around the corners. When her gaze found Leif and Amund, a warm, tired smile met them.
Jumping to his feet, Leif stood before Liv in two long strides, searching her pensive features. The house was quiet, save for a sweet humming noise, and it made the hair on his arms stand on end. He couldn’t decide what was worse, the sound of his Brielle in pain or the guttural silence that foreshadowed something ominous.
Amund joined Leif at his side.
Liv brushed her braid behind her, heaving a deep breath. “They are both doing well. Would you like to see them now?” she asked, gesturing inside.
Unaware of his movements, he stumbled inside as the world around him vanished into a misty haze that resembled a hot summer morning. He only partially saw Astrid moving about the home, arms brimming with blood-streaked tunics and clothes.
There on the bed was his Brielle, and with that, all the blurred edges came into focus. Dried sweat clung to her flushed face, her freckles dancing in the firelight.
Exhaustion mingled with her otherwise beautiful features as strands of loose curls stuck to her neck. She was propped up in the bed, furs tangled around her ankles. Despite how hard she had worked, the smile on her lips only grew wider when she saw him.
A tired finger beckoned him. In her arms, she rocked the most delicate baby he had ever seen. Their pale skin was wrapped securely in fine linen, tucked protectively into his firebird’s chest.
Soft wisps of silver-blonde hairs blew atop their child’s head. Even with Brielle’s cooing and gentle swaying, their baby fussed, quiet cries rolling from their lips.
Falling to his knees, he offered a silent prayer to Freyja. His head hit the furs beside Brielle’s hip, his braids framing his tired face. Gentle fingers carded through the loose locks, her nails massaging his scalp. A deep sigh rolled through him as he looked into her sparkling gaze. Cold sweat coated his palm as he cradled her nape, urging her lips to his in a sweet kiss.
“Look at what you did,” he said, staring at the baby in her arms. “So proud of you, so strong.”
“What we did,” she corrected, her voice scratchy.
Leif frowned, plucking a skin of water from a nearby table. “Drink,” he commanded, holding it to her lips.
A weak laugh spilled from her dry lips as she opened her mouth, allowing the liquid to slide down her throat without protest. When the skin was empty, Leif tossed it aside, hovering a callused hand over their baby’s head.
“Would you like to hold your daughter?” Brielle asked, moving the tiny bundle closer to Leif.
A weight settled into his arms as he rose. Instincts took over, and he supported her head while cradling the rest of her body close to his chest. Unshed tears stung his eyes as he stared down at the bundled girl in his arms. The baby continued to coo and cry as Leif swayed her, but it only made his smile grow.
