Cardin erupted into her warm womb, emptying his soul as he filled her with seed.
He held her tight, reveling in ecstasy, shifting his weight slightly so he wouldn’t crush her. He peered down into her smoldering, sated gaze. “That was heaven.” Her full, sensuous lips beckoned. Brushing them with a tender, reverent kiss, he whispered, “Divine healing—from my golden goddess.” A rebirth of his shattered soul.
He lay down beside her, cradling Ulla over his thundering heart. He stroked the glorious mane of her long black curls, inhaling the floral scent of rosewater from the luxurious locks. Now that they’d shared their bodies and seared their souls, Cardin knew he could never leave her.
First, Ulla had healed the wounded wolf Vill.
Then Lukaz, the withdrawn Little Wolf.
And tonight—by bonding with a broken, battered Cardin—Ulla had healed the Basque Wolf of Biarritz.
Chapter 15
Atonement
Ulla awakened to the chirping birdsong of morning larks and an insistent hardness poking and prodding her backside. She parted her legs and welcomed Cardin once again into her warm, willing womb.
With a deep moan, he sheathed himself inside her. He pinned her hips in place, caressing the sensitive bud between her thighs with long, skilled fingers.
Muscles tightening with increased tension like a tautly drawn bow, she catapulted into climax as he arrowed into her, spilling his ample seed.
“A perfect way to start the morning.” Cardin kissed the back of her neck and caressed her skin.
Ulla shivered deliciously, rolled toward him, and nuzzled his muscled chest.I love his chest hair. It’s so virile.So primal.She inhaled his musky, masculine scent, drawing his essence deep into her lungs.
Her heart clenched at the thought of him leaving.
I know he’ll return to Biarritz. To the distant land of Aquitaine. But I’m glad we had last night together. Because even after he’s gone, I’ll have the memory to treasure forever.
As Cardin stretched his long limbs and hummed in satisfaction, she slipped out of bed and scurried into the kitchen to fetch the gown she had dropped on the floor. Quickly pulling it over her head and securing the woven belt at her waist, Ulla stoked the dying embers in the hearth and added more firewood. She stirred some oats into a pot of water, set it over the rekindled flames to boil, and whistled for Vill to accompany her outside. From the chicken coop, she released her hens, plucking the last of the strawberries from the plants tucked among the hedgerow, and headed back to the kitchen, her wolf at her heels.
Fully dressed, Cardin joined her in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around her as he peered over her shoulder. He sniffed appreciatively as Ulla ladled the boiled oats into two ceramic bowls and set them on the oak table. “Mmm…smells like cinnamon.” A grin of approval stretching across his scarred, handsome face, he watched as she placed a wedge of cheese, a loaf of meslin bread, several slices of smoked bacon, a jar of honey, and the fresh strawberries near the servings of porridge.
Ulla poured two mugs of ale, handed him a goblet, and gestured for Cardin to break his fast with her.
He dove in with relish. “This is delicious. You’re as fine a cook as you are a healer.” Admiration glinted in his dark green eyes. While Ulla added strawberries to her bowl of boiled oats and honey, he announced between hearty bites of bread, “I’ll fetch Lukaz for his lessons once we’ve finished.” He swallowed a large gulp of ale and wiped the foam from his frothy lip. With a jut of his chin, he indicated an alert Vill and quipped, “Lukaz isn’t the only one eager for the hunt.”
When they’d both eaten their fill, Ulla collected the dishes and set them on the kitchen counter near a bucket of water. She’d wash them once Cardin left the cottage.
He pulled her into his arms, leaned her back, and planted a passionate kiss on her delighted mouth. “Thank you for the delectable meal. Be back soon with our little archer.”
****
As he trudged through the forest, headed toward the imposingChâteau de Landuc, Cardin berated himself for seven lost, lonely years.
I’ve been a damned fool. Shunning my son. Blaming him for Charlotte’s death. Avoiding my family. Drinking, dicing, drowning in debt. I was blind, but these past three months have opened my eyes. It’s time for me to atone for my sins. Make it up to Lukaz. Be the father he needs and wants so badly. Spend what little time Maman has left to be the best son I can for her.
Images of Ulla floated to him like a soft, soothing breeze.
Her quiet, calming presence. Her gentle, healing touch. Her divine, welcoming body.
Cardin knew he could never leave her. She was as much a part of him now as Lukaz. The beautiful, beguiling Priestess of Dana had healed both father and son.
He wanted to ask for her hand, but had nothing to offer a bride. Even if Ulla agreed to marry him, he couldn’t bring her back to Biarritz. As castle knights, he and his brother Gaultier shared a bedroom atle Château de Monmarin. There was simply no room for a wife and child.
How could he possibly provide for a family? He’d returned Charlotte’s dowry—including the manor house and lands in Saint-Renan—to her grieving parents. He had no property or inheritance. No title or fortune. No home to offer Ulla and Lukaz.
In a sudden flash of clarity, he froze, transfixed by the dawning revelation.
