Page 86 of Heart of the Wolf
“Thank you, Vala,” Leif praised, kissing the top of her head endearingly and sending her back to Liv. “Two paths lay before me. One where I sever your head from your body.” Leif held the blade aloft, removing his grip from the man who kneeled before him.
“Listen to the thrall,” Einar said, voice trembling. “She tells the truth. I had nothing to do with Herja’s treachery.”
“She is a thrall no more,” Leif hissed. “Your wife kidnapped my kona, my daughter, and the jarl’s wife, and we killed her for her crimes.” Einar didn’t flinch at themention of his dead wife. “And by the blessings of the gods, you are being spared a similar fate.” A hushed gasp echoed through the assembled clans. “But you still disobeyed me. Taking thralls. You are to be separated from clan and kin. Banished and marked Skóggangr. If you ever set foot in our lands again, your life will be forfeit.”
Fear receded in Einar’s dark eyes. Replaced instead with an emptiness that almost made her pity him. Maybe death would have been a kindness. He would be forced to survive on his own. In a few months, an unforgiving winter would arrive, and without the support of the clans, he would starve. His death would be painful and drawn out.
“Leave,” Leif hissed, gesturing toward the woods.
With one fleeting glance, Einar took the offered spear from Andri, his slouched form soon disappearing into the thicket.
Using his thumb and forefinger, Leif wiped the rivulets of seawater off his blade, shucking them to the ground with force before tucking his axe in his belt. Amund was at his side when Leif whispered something, and he nodded along to it before clapping him on the back.
“Let us go home,” he said, kissing her temple. “We are done here.”
***
Later that night, Brielle startled awake. The amount of undisturbed sleep unsettled her, thrusting her body upright.She patted the furs beside her, surprised to find them empty and cold. The fire in the hearth roared with fresh flames, as if someone had just stoked it.
Sitting up, Brielle saw no signs of Leif or their daughter. Icy tendrils squeezed in her chest, chilling her blood. Too quickly, she stood, making her dizzy as she worked to steady herself. She tossed on a simple dress before clicking a cloak in place over her shoulders.
She closed her eyes, humming a calming breath. Leif would die before letting anything happen to their daughter. He had likely taken a walk with the fussy baby, letting Brielle sleep.
Heat spiderwebbed out from her chest, replacing the chilling fear that choked her. Her palm rested over her heart, focusing on the slowing beats before she stepped out into the cloudless night.
Like so many times during her pregnancy, Brielle followed her feet until they led her to the clearing where wildflowers bloomed. Standing in the center of the valley was her wolf, their daughter cradled in his thick arms. Her heart fluttered like a hummingbird at the sight of him, so imposing, regal, yet gentle and protective of their little girl.
Brielle shuffled beside him, brushing her warm hand down his exposed biceps, squeezing.
“Hjartað mitt,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “You were meant to be sleeping.”
“I was,” she murmured, smiling as she ran a thumb over their daughter’s pink cheeks. Those blue eyes were closed, and there were no cries or coos; their daughter rested. Soundly. “Úlfr,” she said, cocking her head and furrowing her brows. “She is sleeping?”
“Yes,” he chuckled, the sound warm as he carefully shifted the little bundle. “I only meant to show her the valley, but the moment we arrived, she dozed, and I didn’t dare to move. It seems our daughter sleeps best under the moon and stars. Perhaps that is why this was the only place you could rest while she was in your belly.”
Brielle smiled, leaning into Leif. “She is perfect.”
“She is,” Leif echoed. “And I think she has told us her name.” Brielle looked up, Leif’s eyes sparkling with silver in the moonlight. A long silence stretched between them as Leif brushed the wispy hairs off their daughter’s face, adjusting her closer to his chest.
“Astra,” he said. “Of the stars, is she not?”
“Astra,” Brielle echoed in agreement, remembering how she mentioned that name weeks ago, after it came to her in a dream.
EPILOGUE
Brielle
20 Years Later
“Úlfr,” Brielle huffed. “You must settle. You cannot kill the boy.”
“He is a boy no more,” Leif hissed, collapsing onto a bench by the hearth. “And why can’t I kill him?”
If a Konungr could pout, it looked as though that was exactly what Leif was doing. Brielle padded along the room, sitting beside him, running a hand through the coarse hair of his thick beard. A vein pulsed in his temple, anger still bubbling in his chest. Brielle stayed quiet, watching the flames lick the stone before she finally broke the silence once his harsh breaths had settled.
“You cannot kill Liv’s son. I imagine Andri would be upset, although, as Liv has proven, she is to be more feared than her husband. She may steal your life from you.”
Leif chuckled a broken laugh, shaking his head before his face was in his hands. Long fingers ran through his hair, gray now sprinkled in with the silver. Brielle pressed a kiss to his biceps before leaning into his side. He gently tugged on her own silver-streaked hair.
