“You are magnificent, Haldor Falk.” Úlvhild slipped across the soft furs on the cave floor to stand before him. She grasped the rough hands that gave her such fierce protection and fiery passion.
Her velvety voice was laced with endless, undying love. “Falcon shifter… peregrine predator…vitkiwho summons birds to fall like spears from the skies.”
When she looked up at him, adoration and ravenous hunger blazed in his dark brown eyes. “Devoted lover. Steadfast mentor. Fiercely loyal friend.”
She held his feral gaze and solemnly spoke her vow. “I shall be forever honored to call you husband.”
He swept her into his arms and swooped down to softly claim her lips. “And you, my beloved Úlvhild.Völvawhose healing hands wieldseiðr.Long hair like black silk. Golden eyes like thegoddess. I love you—with every beat of my falcon heart.”
They knelt alongside the fire, the cloying spice of myrrh and the crisp scent of pine wafting into the warm air. The flames crackled, the amber light glinting off the glittering gems and etched runes in the silver chalice of mead. With the pointed tip of Úlvhild’s ornate dagger—Freyja’s Whisper—Haldor pricked his finger, letting three droplets fall onto the glowing embers. “With this blood, I bind my life to yours, Úlvhild.”
She followed, her own blood dark red against the flame’s gold. “And with mine, I pledge my heart and soul to you, myFalcon of the Faroe Islands.”
He withdrew the golden band set with the oval faceted gem of sparkling amber. Inside the band, she recognized the trio of etched runes.Geibo, the gift.Ingwaz, for fertility. AndWunjo, for joy.
Úlvhild’s heart soared like the wings of Freyja’s swans.
Haldor’s fierce falcon eyes burned like the flames before them. “Úlvhild, myvölva,lynx goddess,andsoulboundmate—I vow to protect you with my life. To cherish you with all my being. And to love you beyond all time.”
He slipped the amber ring on her finger. “Now…at long last…you are my wife.”
With trembling hands, she took the large golden band from the small bronze box. The same trio of runes was etched inside. “Haldor, my beloved Falcon. I pledge my life to yours. I vow to stand at your side, in stillness and storm, in darkness and dawn. I shall bear your children, nurture your soul, and heal your wounds. And I vow to love you. Forevermore.”
She slipped the ring on his finger and kissed his soft, full lips. “At long last, you are my husband. We are well and truly wed.”
He rose to his feet, took her hand, and helped her stand, impassioned eyes never leaving hers. Placing one hand on either side of her face, he bent down and pressed an achingly tender kiss to her lips. “Now, we must make an offering to the goddess whoseseiðrbinds our souls. Whose divine gift—Freyja’s Bloom—has blessed us with a daughter.”
Haldor lifted Úlvhild’s hand, where the amber wedding ring glinted in the firelight. He placed his own beside it.
“Freyja’s Eyes,” he whispered with reverent wonder. “That she may watch over us—and seal our wedding vows in sacred amber.”
Moonlight shone into the cave through the small fissure in the roof where swirls of sweet smoke floated into the starry night sky. Haldor reached for the silver chalice resting on the smooth stone beside the fire. Golden and silvery light danced across the intricate runes and glimmering gems. Holding Úlvhild’s gaze, he raised the goblet high.
“To Freyja,” he murmured, his deep voice mellow as mead. “The goddess who bound our souls and sealed our vows.” He brought the chalice to Úlvhild’s lips for her to take the first sip.
Loving eyes fixed upon his, she drank in tribute to the goddess. Then, taking the goblet from his warm hands, she raised it in turn. “To Freyja, who healed us both. And blessed my womb withFreyja’s Bloom.”
She touched the silver cup to his lips, and he drank.
Taking the goblet from her, he turned solemnly toward the hearth fire. With both hands cradling the ornate silver chalice, he poured the remaining mead into the flames. “For Freyja,” he whispered, “who watches through the amber eyes of our wedding rings. And seals our love withseiðr.”
The fire hissed and flared gold, releasing the sweet scent of honey and the spice of myrrh into theDragon’s Leapcave
Haldor took Úlvhild in his arms, kissed her lips, and swirled her slowly on the soft furs. “We have no lyres or lutes, but we must dance around the bonfire to celebrate our wedding.”
She rested her head over his devoted heart, tears flowing down her smiling cheeks,
Sigurd would receive word by the winter solstice.
Svanhild would wed Tryggvi, preserving the vital alliance between Sweyn Forkbeard, Jarl Rikard, and the Jarl of Orkneyjar.
Úlvhild had saved Haldor in the battle of Ísland,
And now, they were married. She carried his daughter. And soon, she would bear him two sons.
Heart overflowing like her amber eyes, she succumbed to joy in Haldor’s loving arms.
They swayed near the fire, the scent of juniper and myrrh swirling with the fragrant smoke. Haldor’s warm lips sought her neck, his husky whisper hot in her ear. “Come to bed, wife. I want to worship my lynx goddess.”
