“I’m sorry. For what I am. What I’ve brought to you. I know you didn’t ask for this.”
Njáll huffed. He bracketed her face, his thumbs trailing over the bluish skin under her eyes, frowning.
“No. Do not mourn who you are. Because it is the most beautiful blessing in this world. I will not allow you to think such things. Before you, little flame, I was a wandering blade, but now, you are my purpose.”
Unbidden tears leaked from her eyes, and Njáll flicked them away.
“I am yours to command, kona. Where you go, I follow.”
“What does it mean? Kona?”
Njáll stiffened slightly, trailing the backs of his knuckles along the column of her throat.
“It means many things.” He paused, as if struggling to translate the word into English. “Mate. Partner.Mine.”
Before she could ask another question, he angled her face back.
He kissed her then, his lips confident as they demanded her trust and promised her his devotion. Sighing, Elara crawled further into his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding along hers.
Nothing scared her with him here. Njáll drowned out the wayward thoughts or questioning fears until all that remained was them.
Massive hands crawled up her back, pushing her further into his hard body. Teeth nipped at her lip and she moaned, her lashes fluttering and her core clenched. Her body burned from the inside out. She smiled into the kiss, wanting more of him.
He made her a greedy thing, and she loved it.
Growling, Njáll wrenched himself back. Black blown pupils glared at her, shining like polished obsidian. Their heavy breaths mingled in the space between them, his cock hard against her thigh, her nipples pebbled against her dress.
Elara ran her fingers through his hair before dragging her nails through his beard. He rasped a groan, the sound making her clit throb.
Only one barrier remained between them. One Njáll was more than worthy of crumbling.
“Elara,” she murmured.
“What?” he asked, blinking rapidly.
“Elara. My name is Elara.”
Seventeen
Njáll
Elara.
Her name tasted like spun sugar on his tongue. The sweetest gift from a woman who was far too good for him. He’d suffer a thousand new marks on his body if it meant he’d be worthy of speaking her name.
“Let us go home, kona. You must rest.”
A series of mumbled protests rolled from her, but Njáll ignored all of them. He rose, effortlessly lifting her petite frame against his torso. Her head rolled onto his chest, her eyes fluttering.
The time with the Völva exhausted her. For now, he’d take his kona home and kiss her until the stress melted from her muscles. She dozed in his arms, and he nuzzled into the crook of her neck, whispering into the thin skin there.
“You said if I wish to worship you, I must prove myself. I will spend the rest of my days making myself worthy of you, Elara. I will worship you like the goddess you are.”
Eighteen
Elara
As she had for the last two mornings since they visited the Völva, Elara strode silently along the packed dirt paths. Despite the quiet pad of her footsteps, a riot of noise plagued her, the constant whir buzzing in her ears.
