“In an alpine valley, at the monastery of Saint Bernard of the Spring,” he murmured, cradling her close. “This water—theLindsviðrsacred spring—has miraculous healing powers.” Scooping a handful from the waterfall, he offered it to her lips. “Drink. It will restore you.”
She drank eagerly, then cupped her own palms to swallow more. “It is delicious—earthy and rich, like fertile soil.”
Sigurd stroked her long golden hair. “Kveld says I must bathe you here for three nights, to purify your body.” He flashed her a wolfish grin. “And that I must make love to you each night as well—fortheouroborosto burn away all traces of Odin’s frozen curse.”
The radiance of her smile dazzled Sigurd’s Sea Wolf soul.
“Come, let me dry you and bring you inside.” He lifted her from the pool, wrapped her in a linen cloth, and carried her into the cottage at the edge of the dense forest.
The sweet scent of edelweiss lingered in the starry night air.
He laid her on his bed, covered her with blankets and furs, and leaned down to kiss her once. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered into her parted lips. “I need to bring our swords and armor—andBlárúlfr—inside the cottage.”
Returning to the edge of the waterfall pool, he gathered her golden corslet and amber leather armor, her sheathed sword and shield, carrying them into the cottage and laying them carefully on a wooden chest at the foot of the bed. He flashed her a reassuring grin, enormously pleased and relieved to see her awake and the warm color returning to her pale cheeks.
Dashing back outside, the brisk night air biting at his bare skin, he quickly retrieved his winged helm, goldenbrynja,sheathed swordGramr,and wolfskin cloak, racing back into the warmth of the cottage.
And his beloved Brynhildr.
She sat up in bed, clutching the furs around her, eyes wide with wonder at the sight of his dragon-shaped helmet, golden chainmail, and sheathed sword. “Just as I glimpsed in my vision.” She stretched her hand out, longing to touch them.
Sigurd reverently laid the items on the bed before her.
“They gleam withdragonfire…”she whispered in awe, tracing the emerald eyes of the fierce dragon in the winged helm. Her hand flew to themark of the dragonwhich glowed above her bare breast. “And theouroborosblazes in response…”
He showed her the golden band upon his finger. “The same as the emerald eyes of Fáfnir’s ring…and thesoulboundrune above my own heart. Indeed, they guided me to you in theRing of Fire.”
She gasped at the sight of his sheathed sword. “You reforged yourfaðir’sswordGramrwithÚlfblóðr—and kept the wolf head hilt intact.” Her fingertip traced the snarling wolf, its lapis lazuli eyes glinting in the firelight. At the pommel, the golden threads of the larger lapis gem blazed with deep blue fire, echoing the wolf’s searing gaze.
Sigurd slowly unsheathed the magnificent blade, majestically displaying it before her. The rolling waves, running wolves, and etched runes shimmered as if alive.
“Gramris triply forged in blood,” he rumbled,deep, guttural, and proud. “Völsung blood from myfaðir, lupine blood fromBlárúlfr,and my own. Thrice the strength of the wolf.”
“With which you slew Fáfnir.” She whispered in awe, watching as he sheathedGramrand leaned it upright againstthe wall in a corner. Firelight from the flames in the hearth glinted in the snarling wolf’s lapis eyes.
He gathered the winged helm and the goldenbrynja, which he laid on the chest with her armor, returning to sit on the bed at her side. He raised her hand to his bearded lips, immensely grateful to have delivered her safely here.“After Regin and I reforgedGramr, the dwarf led me to Fáfnir’s lair. The dragon dragged himself each day to drink at a lake, so I dug a pit in its path. When he passed over me, I droveGramrinto his belly. Dragon blood poured over me, hardening my skin, as if infusing me with his strength. And Brynhildr…” He lifted her hand to his lips again, pressing a fervent kiss on her pale fingers. “I also gained the ability to understand birds! Your golden falcon Gyllin came to me—and told me of Odin’s wrath. She said he’d cursed you with theThorn of Sleepand imprisoned you in aRing of Fireatop Mount Hinterfjall in the Alps of eastern Francia.”
He pulled the covers back and slipped into the bed beside her, cradling her on his chest and kissing her damp blonde hair. When she snuggled against him, humming softly, he continued his tale. “Kveld and I sailed to Denmark and rode south until we came here. He told me to bathe you in the sacred spring…and that making love would rekindle theseiðrfireof theouroboroswhich binds us…burning away every last trace of Odin’s frozen curse.”
Sigurd lowered his lips to hers, brushing them softly and tracing them with the tender tip of his tongue. As she opened her mouth to welcome him in, he delved in deep, delighting in her taste and the soft moans escaping from the back of her throat.
He suckled her neck, her shoulders, theouroborosabove his heart blazing as he sampled her chilled skin. When he drew a pink nipple into his mouth, she whimpered, running her fingers through his thick hair. He traced kisses down her belly, partingthe blonde curls between her trembling thighs. Gently he stoked her tender folds, her moist heat beckoning like sweet mead.
He lapped at the luscious flesh, swirling and circling her sensitive bud. Slipping two fingers inside her, he stoked the flames of theouroboros, rekindling herdragonfire.
“Please, Sigurd,” she whimpered, “I need you inside me.”
He positioned himself between her long legs. Slipped his shaking hands under her round hips. And with a groan of unbearable pleasure, plunged into her paradise.
She wrapped lithe legs around his waist, gripped his back with slender arms, pulling him into her more deeply with tightly clutched limbs.
Brynhildr clamped her lips on his shoulder, her body clenching him inside and out.
She shuddered in release beneath him, the contractions of her climax gripping him in rhythmic, squeezing pulses.
He drove deep into her and erupted, pouring his soul andseiðras he filled her with a fountain of seed.
After a few moments, when his body calmed, he raised his head and kissed her soft, warm lips. Lovelight sparkled in her shining eyes, a rosy glow in her flushed cheeks. “By all the gods, I love you, Brynhildr. After everything you have endured, I am glad you are here with me, safe at last. Our souls are forever entwined…beyond fate and the gods.”
