Page 65 of Wulver's Flame
We sat and watched them, unable to take our eyes off them. Taran had a ravenous appetite for food, just like his mother. He ate and slept on repeat. My eyes flicked to my warrior flameheart. I loved that I could be her outlet during childbirth. Every thrall and warrior heard her wail like a goddess of war. It was only fair since everyone knew how much she loved my cock.
My men rejoiced at the new arrival. Taran’s cries joined their bellows as I showed them the future Dróttinn.
But as I sat here with Sköll so close to the surface. I wondered how our father could have forsaken us. I leaned forward and pressed my smallest finger into Taran’s palm until it wrapped around me.
I vowed no matter what affliction befell him that I would never release his hand.
Never cast him aside.
Sköll's loud purr filled the room.
A faint smile appeared on Liùsaidh’s lips.
I curled up at the foot of the bed, watching over my future.
Chapter 30
Liùsaidh
After a life of feeling trapped by others' decisions, this was the first time I truly felt free. Vargr had given me this precious gift. I was not subservient to him in our home. I was his equal. He ensured our safety with a warrior approach, leaving me free rein over our longhouse. His men showed me an equal amount of respect. My bond told me this was Vargr’s doing.
His people and mine admired our golden-haired pup. Brìghde made the journey to tell me with great smugness that I should have trusted her foresight.
The treaty held strong.
My mate kept his oath.
My da heard the gossip about how I cursed my husband on the birthing bed and rushed to our home to ensure I was still alive. By the time he left, there was no lingering animosity, only sincere warmth.
As spring crept near, the wolf inside me grew louder. She never spoke—only nudged through the bond, through my bones. Spring was a season of rebirth, and I knew her well enough to know she was no beast.
She was mine, and it was time.
I gave birth to a vigorous son.
How difficult could this be?
???
I stood at the edge of the pool we bathed in, cursing Vargr under my breath and every one of his blood-boned Gods.
“Take a breath,” he said softly behind me, like I was a nervous colt about to bolt. But I wasn’t afraid. I was furious. Furious that this was happening now, at the end of everything, when I finally had peace.
I felt Sköll’s snicker curled through the bond like a lick of smoke.
The bond was expanding.
“Greedy son of a goat,” I muttered aloud, earning a deep rumble of amusement from Vargr.
He waited behind me, unmoving. Sköll was pressing against him so hard that I could feel the strain in my chest. They were holding back, allowing me space. Waiting for me to finish what began the moment Vargr first scented me in the woods.
I breathed deeply.
The air tasted of moss and iron and spring. Of cool water and warm pine. The moon reflected in the rock pool like an eye watching, unblinking. I felt her—the thing buried in my bones. The thing I once called a curse. She had never spoken, only nudged. Whispered through my blood. Nudged me through mating, through birth, through the bond.
But now?
She howled.
