Kveld nodded to Hálfdan, who proudly heldGramrlaid flat across his outstretched arms.
Sigurd untied theouroborosring, the emerald eyes of the dragon glittering in the moonlight.
Seiðrsizzled through thesoulboundrune above her fluttering heart.
He slipped the band onto her finger and declared his vows. “Brynhildr… my Sun Falcon, with this ring, I take you as my wife. My heart belongs only to you. I vow that in this life and the next, I am yours… forevermore.”
Kveld unsheathed an ornate dagger from the scabbard at his hip. The amber eyes of the snarling wolf in the elaborate hilt glowed like the black lupine beast’s atop his lowered head. With the sharp point of the blade, he pricked the tip of their ring fingers.
When he lifted the silver chalice embellished with amber and etched with runes, Brynhildr watched as three bright drops of her blood, followed by three from Sigurd, fell into the goldenmead. The copper tang of iron mingled with the scent of honey and the wildflower fragrance of her bridal wreath.
“Now bind your vows with blood and breath.” Kveld held the chalice between them.
Feral eyes ablaze with love, loyalty, and longing, Sigurd gripped the chalice and waited for her to do the same.
Brynhildr wrapped her hands over his, theouroboroson her finger and above her heart pulsing with power.
Together, eyes fixed on each other, they raised the goblet to their lips.
And drank the blood-laced mead.
Kveld took the silver chalice from their hands and poured the remainder into the fire. “Jörð, Eir, and Frigg, bless the sacred moonlit wedding of Sigurd and Brynhildr with this gift of golden mead.”
The Nightwolf asked Sigurd for the braided locks of hair.
In the moonlight, the trio of gems sparkled like captured stars.
Kveld wound the braided band around their joined wrists, his deep murmur sending shivers ofseiðrthrough Brynhildr’s shaking limbs. “Beneath the light of the moon and the stars, beside the sacred healing waters of theLindsviðrspring, I bind your hands in marriage. Let your hearts, minds, and bodies be forever entwined—as theouroborosbinds your two souls.”
The moon cast a halo around the sacred spring, and the rush of the waterfall rose with droplets of starlit mist. Sigurd bent to brush his soft lips against hers. “By all the gods, my love…at long last, we are one.”
Brynhildr melted in his loving arms.
“You are truly wed,” Kveld whispered, inclining his wolfskin-clad head as Tryggvi and Hálfdan returned their sheathed swords. “Now go…and seal your vows with your bodies. Beneath the moon, the stars, and the sacred spring.”
Inside the cottage, Sigurd closed and bolted the heavy wooden door behind him. He leanedGramragainst the wall, tookSólfalkrfrom her hands, and stood her sheathed sword beside his. After hangingBlárúlfron a peg by the door, he untied her blue cloak trimmed with silver fox fur and hooked it on a peg beside his wolfskin.
“Tonight is the third and final night to burn away all traces of Odin’s frozen curse,” he whispered, gently removing her bridal wreath. He inhaled the fragrant flowers and herbs, smiled at her, and set the headpiece reverently atop the bedside table.
Sliding her deep blue gown down her arms and letting it pool on the pinewood floor, he gently lifted the chemise underdress over her head. When she removed her leather boots, he bent to pick up her wedding gown. Folding it carefully, he laid it atop the wooden chest along the wall and kicked off his own leather boots.
He devoured her bare body with ravenous eyes as he quickly shed his own tunic and breeches. Wrapping his arms behind her back, he swooped down to claim her lips. parting them with a penetrating tongue.
“You taste of golden mead and moonlight,” he murmured, sampling her neck and working his way down to her aching nipples. When his warm mouth suckled first one, then the other, her knees buckled beneath her.
He laid her gently atop the furs on the bed, kissing, tasting, and licking her skin. When he parted the golden curls between her thighs, his guttural growl rumbled up her quivering legs.
Lapping her tender folds, he moaned as if he loved her taste, rubbing her sensitive bud with the end of his nose and the tip of his tongue.
“I must have you,” he groaned, placing his knees between her thighs and pushing them further apart. He slid his roughhands under her bottom, tilted her hips up, and impaled her like a spear.
She wrapped long legs around his thrusting hips and gripped his broad back with taut arms, the unbearable pleasure mounting like a cresting wave. When she shattered in climax, her body rhythmically clenching his, Sigurd arrowed into her and erupted.
As he roared in release and filled her with seed,seiðrflowed into her like molten light, searing her soul withdragonfire.
“You have healed me,” she whispered when he lay down beside her, cradling her over his thumping heart. She raised her head and smiled at him, tracing the glowingouroboroson his chest with the tip of her adoring tongue. “And Sigurd…you have restored more than my life. Something stirs within me… and it is yours.”
He hummed softly and wrapped strong arms around her, pulling the furs over them both.
