Her breath hitched at a razor-sharp slice to her skin.
Sigurd’s head snapped, brow furrowed, ready to defend her. “What is wrong?” Concern, compassion, and caution warred in his wolflike gaze.
“I tore my finger on a thorn.” Dark blood, black in the moonlight, beaded on her pale skin.
He raised her wound to his bearded lips, and licked the blood with his warm lupine tongue. When he sucked her finger into his mouth, a wave of desire surged through her and pooled between her quivering thighs.
* * * *
The taste of her blood awakened his senses and stirred his soul, summoning his inner wolf. Instantly, intuitively, and inexorably, his Sea Wolf spiritknewher.
The hackles of hisBlárúlfrcloak arose, shimmering in the moonlight.
At his throat, theÚlfklóclaw thrummed, answering her irresistible call.
And theÚlfblóðrsword—blood-forged and spirit-bound—sang to her from the sheath at his hip.
She tenderly touched his bearded cheek, sending sparks through his veins and igniting a fire within. When she gazed upinto his eyes, rising on her toes to press soft lips to his, Sigurd was undone.
And unleashed.
He crushed her to his chest, one hand behind the small of her back, the other cradling her head, as he swooped down to deepen the kiss. With the tip of his tongue, he parted her lips, delving and probing her depths, devouring her delicious taste. When she melted in his arms and moaned, his knees nearly buckled with desire.
Her silver circlet toppled to the grass. He broke the kiss, gasping for air and pressing his forehead to hers. He bent to retrieve the crown and handed it to her, searching her emerald eyes for guidance.
And permission to continue.
Glittering stars winked in the deep violet sky. Silver moonlight shone on her long blonde hair, a cascade of gold tumbling to her narrow waist. She accepted the coronet, tracing its ravens and runes, then raised her intense gaze to meet his. “Since the moment I first saw you, I have been drawn to you… like iron to lodestone.”
Her voice was a whimpered whisper. “Throughout the tournament, each event you won… felt like a triumph of my own.” With tentative fingertips, she reached up to touch the tuft of blond hair at the base of his throat.
His entire body shook with barely restrained control.
“My gaze is inexplicably drawn to yours…and each time our eyes meet,seiðrsizzles up my spine.” She nuzzled the tuft of hair, deeply inhaling his scent. A soft moan escaped her parted lips.
Sigurd’s heart hammered in his constricted chest.
“Thevölvaforetold thatthorned roses climb stones and hide the night….” Brynhildr nodded toward the base of the vine-covered tower behind them. “That is a hidden stairwell…asecret escape passage from the tower. It leads up to my private chamber.”
Starlight sparkled in her wild, widened eyes. “I know, in my Sun Falcon soul, that you and I are destined to be together. I have never wanted any man the way I want you. And tonight, Sigurd Sea Wolf, I must have you.”
She rose up to press her lips against his. With a quavering smile, she grasped his hot hand.
And led him up the secret stairs.
* * * *
The circular stone stairwell led from the private courtyard to a thick oak door carved with intricate knotwork and etched with protective runes. Brynhildr fetched a key from the belt at her waist and slipped it into the heavy latch, unlocking the iron bolt.
Sigurd followed her into an expansive, circular chamber where embers banked in the stone hearth emitted a warm amber glow.
“These are my private quarters,” she said, tossing a log onto the fire in the stone hearth. “On the level below, thevölvaYrsa gives me lessons in ourseiðrchamber.” She swept across the polished wooden floor, emerald silk rustling as she opened the double doors onto a balcony overlooking the starlit fjord.
Moonlight bathed the room in liquid silver light.
She placed her coronet on a small table beside her large, fur-covered bed. Emeralds sparkled softly in the slender silver crown.
Unsure what to do, Sigurd stood still.
