A flush stained Elara’s cheeks.
“I think you are mis?—”
Eyes narrowed at her. Brielle silenced Elara with a cutting glare that rivaled her own mother’s. Elara pursed her lips, sucking in her defiance.
“Does my son not already call you kona? Kona is wife, Elara.”
Elara’s eyes blew wide, the mug in her hand falling with a thud on the floor. Brielle hummed a quiet laugh, undeterred by her response.
“Njáll looks at you like you are the air in his lungs and the sun in the sky. It is the same look my Úlfr has graced me with since the day we met. One day, my son will carry the burden Leif now shoulders and he would not survive the toll without a strong Dróttning by his side.”
The soft demand burrowed into Elara’s chest, fighting away the last of the chill that still haunted her from her vision.
Njáll had told her he’d challenge his claim to lead the clans. As his kona, that meant she’d one day lead their people the same way Brielle did now.
Sensing her wayward thoughts, Brielle spoke again.
“You are his strength as he is yours. Do not fear it. Freyja brought you two together. Just as she did with me and Leif. My son will be safe with you by his side. Thank you for caring for him.”
Her chest squeezed, and her mouth parted. Elara tried to find the words to thank her, to tell her how much Njáll meant to her, but none came.
She struggled to put into words what Njáll was to her.
It was not meant to be this way.
When Elara offered herself to the scarred demon, she’d done it to honor her vow to her mother, to keep her father safe.
Now, the man who’d taken her, owned her.
More than she had ever imagined.
Too many emotions rushed to the surface, the weight of them making Elara’s eyes droop and her shoulders sag. Brielle clicked her tongue, the fire casting her in a warm glow.
“I will have a bath brought for you.” Brielle leaned over, patting her cheek and pressing a tender kiss to the crown of her curls. “I will check on you once in the morning and once after the sun sets until Njáll returns.”
An undeniable affection Elara hadn’t experienced in what felt like an eternity warmed a forgotten part of her soul.
It mingled with the agonizing memory of her mother. Instead of shattering her like it so often did, it soothed her grief.
“Stay here and rest until Njáll returns. You must allow your body to recover.”
For the first time, Elara realized her mother’s love was a tangible thing, a thread that would always be there.
And Brielle offered her a love that could thrive in time with her mother’s, coexisting.
It breathed life into her, reminding her of the world that waited for her.
One where she and Njáll basked in the pleasure of their shared passion. One where they spent meals with his family and helped care for the clan.
One where Elara harnessed her gifts and the draugar no longer plagued them.
A beautiful, glorious life awaited them, one Elara was determined to manifest.
Elara nibbled on her lip, stumbling as the words she longed to say finally tumbled free.
“Thank you, Mamma,” Elara whispered, the name both bitter and sweet on her tongue.
Shards of jade glinted in Brielle’s eyes as she pressed her palm to her chest.
