Page 87 of Heart of the Wolf
“Why do you always have to speak such wisdom?” he said, squeezing her knee.
“Odin gifted you your wolf. He gifted me endless knowledge and patience for stubborn Konungrs,” she snickered as Leif’s body went lax beside her.
“Njáll does not cause me this much trouble.”
Brielle swatted Leif’s arm, making him feign being hurt. She rolled her eyes. Njáll was a year younger than Astra and had already taken over what had formerly been Andri’s position, leading the raids. Njáll was intense, strong, and a vicious warrior, everything a Konungr wished for their son, even if he softened around his mother.
The relationship between Astra and Leif was something Brielle could scarcely describe. He loved both his children, albeit in different ways. With Njáll, he saw a son to groom and nurture for the role Leif now held. Njáll would be a Konungr. Leif loved his son. It was a devotion forged in battle and blood.
But Astra, she was his little wolf, no matter how old she got. If Brielle was half of Leif’s heart and soul, then Astra was the other half. The moment Leif first held the too-small baby in his thick arms, they bonded. He was gentle with her. From that day on, Leif protected and loved her with his entire being.
And yet, he blamed every white hair he had on their daughter.
“That is because you smile stupidly whenever your son kisses a woman. While your wolf becomes feral if a man so much as looks at Astra.”
Earlier, Leif stormed into their home, the walls shaking as he slammed the door behind him. Brielle had been busy trying to understand the etchings of some runic symbols she’d found. The wolf prowled at the surface, icy eyes glaring back at her when Brielle tried to calm him. She bracketed his arms with her hands, running them up and down and spreading warmth.
Rage swirled in his crystalline gaze, flames melting the ice to reveal a storm raging beneath the surface. Only after sitting with a mug of ale did Leif tell her what had him livid. While hunting rabbits, he stumbled upon Astra, sitting outside the mouth of a cave. Except their daughter wasn’t alone. No, she straddled the waist of Liv’s son, their lips locked in a passionate kiss.
Erik was Njáll’s age and a fearless fighter. He had his mother’s strength and his father’s fortitude.
As Leif told it, his fingers threaded into Astra’s beautiful, silvery hair, palming the back of her head as he kissed their daughter in a searing embrace before Leif caught them.
According to him, Astra sobbed, tears streaming along her flaming cheeks as her father threatened Erik. The boy tried to explain himself, muttering some nonsense about love and marriage before Leif drew his axe, making the boy flee.
Astra smacked Leif’s chest, shoving her father as she cried before sprinting into the woods.
And now, Brielle worked on picking up the pieces. They had not seen Astra, but she had her own home at the edge of the village. When Leif had attempted to check on her, Brielle yanked him forcefully back.
Not only had they not seen their daughter, but they hadn’t seen Andri or Liv either. She half expected Erik’s parents to speak with them after Leif brandished a weapon at their son.
However, being the Konungr gave Leif far too many liberties. If he truly wished to kill Erik for touching his daughter, Liv couldn’t stop him.
None could, and only a foolish few would try. Only one could successfully quell the Konungr. Brielle. She was the only one who could temper Leif’s anger.
It had muted in the last ten years, except when it came to his family. He was fiercely protective of his wife and daughter, always had been, and age didn’t stop that.
Eventually, Leif looked up, staring at the flames before turning his attention to Brielle. A hoarse breath caught in his throat as he captured her lips in a rough kiss. His tongue swept along the seam of her mouth, smiling when she parted for him. His lips danced along hers, swallowing the sweet sounds he pulled from deep in her throat.
Thick fingers cupped the backs of her thighs. Before she could protest, he dragged her into his lap with a quiet squeak that made him laugh into their kiss. He broke away, feathering wet kisses along her jaw before he pushed her dress off her shoulder, nipping and sucking the tender flesh along her clavicle.
“Sweet, kona. Beautiful, firebird,” he mumbled, sending heat to the apex of her thighs.
Brielle keened under his praise, grinding her center into his hard length.
“Are you wet for me?” he asked into the hollow of her throat, running a callused hand up her calf.
A loud knock echoed on the door as Leif gripped Brielle’s hips, anchoring her to him.
“Ignore it,” he hissed, nipping at her ear. Brielle tipped her head back, rocking her hips and whimpering before that horrible knocking sound grew louder.
“Konungr,” a tentative voice cracked. “May I speak with you, please?”
It wasn’t hard to recognize the deep, scared voice of Liv’s son on the other side of the door. Brielle pouted, collapsing her head into Leif’s chest. Erik had grown into a kind, strong, and fearless man. If Astra were to choose anyone to be her partner, Erik would be well-suited for her.
In Leif’s eyes, however, no one would ever be good enough for their daughter.
Brielle wasn’t surprised the man had come to speak with Leif. It spoke volumes about his character and strength. Leif, his Konungr, had pulled an axe on him earlier, but that didn’t stop him from coming to his home because he loved Astra.
