Growling with approval, he freed himself and steered me onto his rock-hard shaft, swirling the rough pad of his thumb over the tiny nub at the center of my pleasure as I sank onto him. Eyes rolling back in my head, I whimpered with approval as mini tremors of ecstasy pulsed through me.
Releasing a ragged groan of pleasure, he slowly steered me up and down his hot length, only increasing the sensation. Elongating it. Fanning it so skillfully that I utterly lost myself to him.
Seeming to sense the tables had turned and that he now held me prisoner, rather than the other way around, he gathered me closer and wrapped me up in his strong arms. Made me his in brand new ways. Loved me so exquisitely, pulling forth endless emotions and sensations, that I continually crested the edge. Soared to new heights as he moved even slower. Pressed even deeper.
This time, there was no rush or frenzy but a slow, deep, burning passion that ebbed and flowed. Sometimes our lips met. Other times, we simply breathed each other in. I lost count of how many times he brought me to peak. How often I shook all over and had to bury my cries of pleasure in the crook of his neck.
Eventually, I realized how difficult it was becoming for him to hold back. Saw the rabid, ruthless lust he battled simmering in his half-mast eyes. The tension that tightened his features while he tried to give me all I could take before he finallylet go, too. Desperate to give him that, I moved faster, leaving him no choice but to follow me.
No choice but to surrender to me.
And he soon did, his features twisting with pleasure, as he pulled free from me seconds before taking any more chances. We lingered that way for a time, trembling and holding each other while we could, basking in the incredible sensations pulsing through us. Held on until we had no choice but to let go and resume pretending we cared nothing for one another.
“’Twill be good when all this secrecy is behind us,” he eventually murmured. “Though I dread why that might be.”
No doubt he did, as true transparency would likely mean his father had passed. Then, undoubtedly, there would be a third death, as I had foreseen while tending the wounded Norse.
“I saw something earlier,” he revealed when we finally stood and readied ourselves for the coming day, as the sun would soon rise. “At least I think I did…” Clearly struggling with what he'd witnessed, he hesitated a moment before going on. “If I didnae know better, I would swear I saw a grey wolf and then a white bear outside.” Hardly believing it, he shook his head. “Then soon after, it almost seemed like I felt your grief.”
“Perhaps you did,” I said softly. “That was the wolf that gave my sisters and me our talismans as children. Or should I say the spirit of the wolf, or so we have long assumed.”
Knowing he would believe me now, I told him about the grey wolf pup that had appeared through the snow one night at the Russian border, when my sisters and I were walking home. How it left us a Viking blade sent by the Valkyries, which transformed into three stones, each fated to carry us in different directions in life, and aid us in fulfilling our destinies.
“Since then, the wolf has only followed Freya,” I continued, shouldering into my fur cloak. “And the spirit of the white bear, Tove. Yet Soren saw them when he nearly diedon our shore. Now you, during what I suspect will be another turning point, that steers us three down the paths we must follow and the men we will walk them with.”
“Had you told me this mere weeks ago, I would have thought it a tall tale.” Declan reeled me close and cupped my cheek. “But after what I have seen, I no longer doubt.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry I ever did, lass.”
“You need not be,” I assured, leaning into his loving touch, wishing we need never separate again. “’Tis common enough not to believe such. And truth be told, as previously discussed, these days, ‘tis almost better than the alternative.”
“Aye,” he agreed, brushing his lips across mine before his gaze dropped to the cross his father had given me. “’Twill never be a religion you can follow, aye?” His brow furrowed, and his verdant eyes met mine. “This magic of yours means you can only ever worship your pagan gods?”
“’Tis of them soja,” I said softly, saying what was in my heart, hoping it would be enough. “But that does not mean we must raise our children believing in them. Nor does it mean I will shun your deity. Rather, I hope to learn about Him as time goes on.”
“Aye, then,” he murmured, saying nothing more, yet I sensed he found comfort in that. Or so I could only hope as he brushed his lips across mine one last time and we headed out into the brisk, snowy morning to the tavern to begin another day among the people.
Stewart was already there, so we joined him.
“How fare you this morn, my friend?” Declan wondered, without doubt, as curious about the contents of Florie’s letter as I.
“Good enough,” he grunted, appearing tired around the eyes and lacking the happiness we had hoped to see as he ate his porridge.
“And Florie’s letter?” I asked softly, having been convinced she would confess her true feelings.
“’Twas nothing more than a friendly letter full of happenings in her life,” he said. “A means to fill in my time whilst traveling.”
Though tempted to talk more about it, what could I say? It seemed Declan agreed, because after a mutual glance, we spoke of other things, yet I knew those sweets, wrapped so lovingly, supported my certainty that Florie returned Stewart's affections. While tempted to point that out, King Alexander joined us soon after, and the conversation turned to talk of the days ahead.
Days that ended up seeing me accomplish what I needed to in our current village, assuring the king that all supported his reign, before making our way north, traveling from village to village, giving me ample time to bond with my new horse, Wyvern. An incredible beast that held up well, just as Lachlann had assured me she would.
I heard little from my sisters via the flames other than yes, they had received word that I would marry Declan instead of Lachlann. Freya and Soren had returned to their tribe to overwinter after Father’s death and would reunite with our tribe after the thawing.
I didn't tell them much, in return, other than that I traveled with the king to help keep peace in my new homeland. While I tried to convince myself that I remained vague until I understood more about where things stood here in Scotland, I knew better. Deep down, I did it to protect my new country, my husband, our people, and even my Scottish king, whom I eventually came to like a great deal.
Despite his youth, he was fair and patient, truly wanting peace on his shores. And as much as I disliked it, the truthwas my sisters and their tribes could just as easily turn against Scotland and King Alexander if King Hákon asked them to.
As it had been in the first village, most people had heard of me and my desire to ensure peace between the Scots and their long-established Norse neighbors, earning me much praise and respect from the king.
Declan and I rarely had time alone as days turned into weeks, and we frequented smaller villages, where I had no choice but to lodge with families because there were no spare cottages. While I missed him every moment we were apart, it gave me ample opportunity to gather gossip I might not have been able to otherwise.
