A violent, overwhelming urge tightened in her belly, igniting a roaring blaze. It consumed her. That fire wove with the pulse of her soul, snapping something into place, something that tethered her to this moment, to Njáll.
A hungry moan clawed at her ribs like a beast begging to break free. Her arms shot up, wrapping around his neck, pulling his heavy body impossibly closer. She matched the ferocity of his lips against hers, pouring all her buried emotions into the kiss.
All the ones she’d hidden beneath layers of grief and despair. Ones she thought she’d never have.
His cock twitched against her stomach, and a raspy growl vibrated her lips. His hands dropped to the curve of her ass, digging his nails into the supple flesh.
Elara ground into Njáll’s length, whimpering as hot tears stung her eyes, feeling too much and not enough all at once.
Breathless, he finally tore away, grazing his teeth along her jaw. His forehead fell against hers, his hands nearly spanning the entire width of her waist.
“Mine,” he growled, the possessive vow thrumming in the rapid thump of her heart. “My flame. I vow to Freyja to honor and worship you until my dying breath. You own my heart and my blade.”
She trembled, her arms stretched and wrapped around his nape.
“You speak of forever when you cannot promise it.”
“Oh, but I can,” he whispered, lifting her until her legs automatically tangled around his waist. He stole another brief, bruising kiss, nipping at her swollen lower lip. “Not even Valhalla could keep me away from you. Should I die before you, little flame, your demon will crawl through the veil to return to you.”
A steady thrum pounded in her ears, drowning out all other sounds. She didn’t doubt the truth in his words, that he’d comb through the depths of Hell to find her once more, and that pleased her more than it should.
Even if it frightened her.
“And what if I die before you?”
“Then I’d follow. What would this life be without the flame that ignites my spirit?”
She choked on a breath, her hands cupping his cheeks.
“What of your people? Your duty?”
“You will always come first. A good Konungr cannot serve his people if he doesn’t serve his queen.”
Not wanting him to see her tears, she buried her face in his neck, inhaling the faint scent of cedar and leather. His chest rumbled with something close to a purr as he carried her through the deserted village.
Her tears dried quickly, cocooned in his hold. The wooden door groaned shut behind them, sealing them in the familiar comfort of his home. A chill cut through the dim space, the final dredges of the fire crumbling in the pit.
Soft furs cradled her aching muscles as Njáll gently lowered her into the nest of blankets. He removed his cloak, pausing as his fingers lingered on the hem of her woolen dress.
She dipped her chin, and Njáll gently removed the heavy material, leaving her in her linen shift.
He knelt beside the bed, the veins in his arms flexing as he rested them on either side of her face. Braids slipped over his shoulders, and she lifted a trembling hand, reaching for the coarse confines of his beard.
He caught her wrist, stroking her pulse point before pressing her palm against his scarred chest, right above the steady thump of his heart.
“Wait here,” he said, the deep command making her entire body coil with unrelieved tension.
He rose, tossing thick logs into the fire with ease.
Tall flames roared to life, sending sparks sputtering into the air.
Shadows crawled along his back as he slid into the furs beside her. A massive palm splayed over her stomach, positioning her in the crook of his body. He tucked her head beneath his chin, tangling his legs with hers.
The pads of her fingers bounced over her lips, the memory of his kiss etched there. She melted into his hold, the possessiveness of it making her feel safe for the first time in as long as she could remember.
With one hand, she entwined her fingers with his over her navel, tracing the scars on his knuckles. The other slipped the rune dangling from the leather cord around her neck, tracing the groove marks.
The room was blissfully silent, save for the sounds from the fire.
