4. Chapter 4
Chapter 4
Wulfric
All I want is to drown myself in a few flagons of mead and fall into my bed for the rest of the day, but my people will expect stories from our travels beyond the island, so I open my home to the villagers.
To celebrate my return and the Althing, a meeting between myself and my people, the thralls have prepared a feast. They load the tables with enough food to feed a small army: loaves of freshly baked bread and dishes of butter waiting to be spread, steaming bowls of cabbage soup, wheels of cheese piled high, Aunt Helga’s sweet rolls dripping with glaze, and of course a whole roast boar, the skin browned and cracked, dripping with juices.
It's good to be home, even if I must hold this gathering instead of holing myself up in my room for rest. I glance toward my sleeping quarters. Kieran’s scent is faint beyond the door, but it tempts me to follow it into the room. My wolf bristles at the idea of only a few inches of wood separating my mate from a pack of wolves. No one will harm him, though. Any who try will die, be they kin or foe.
“He’s a nice lad,” Helga says, setting a platter of drinks on the table. “He’s scared. Be kind to him, won’t you?”
I hum and remain by the door to greet my people when they arrive. “You could have told me my mate was a human, Auntie.”
“I must say, I was surprised the Norns chose a human to be your mate, too. Our kind have never gotten along.”
Grinding my teeth, I say, “It makes no sense.”
She lets out a disapproving huff. “It’s fortuitous, if you ask me.”
I didn’t, but that’s never stopped Helga from having an opinion about my love life.
“This is the sign we have been waiting for. The gods are telling us it is time to set aside our differences with humans and come together.”
“Our differences,” I say through clenched teeth, “stem from humans hunting us like cattle.”
“I’m aware,” she snaps back. “The times are changing, lad. Tell me you don’t plan to reject the match.”
I should. My people will not be pleased when they learn my mate is a human. There will be dissent, of that I’m certain. “I can’t afford to.” I look down at my hand, waiting to see claws sprout from my fingertips.
I don’t want to, but I keep that to myself.
“I’ve got to be strong for this pack and to do that, I must take him as my mate. And he must want me to.” Fear grips my heart. “How am I to court him when he can’t even bear to look at me?”
“I seem to remember your ma and da barely being able to meet each other’s gaze. Their mating was an arranged one, but they came to love each other deeply.” She blinks fast, pain bright in eyes the same shade of gray as my father’s, Gunnar’s, and mine.
I never knew Mother but from what my aunt and father told me of her, their love ran so deep.
“Giving him free rein would help,” Helga adds, giving me a barbed look as she goes to grab a cauldron of soup.
“Out of the question! He isn’t safe, not yet. The village must adjust to his presence. Besides, he’ll leave the moment my back’s turned, and then…” The berserker will take over, consuming me in bestial madness.
She slams down the cauldron of soup and rounds on me. “Then stop acting like an ass and spend time with him. Find a way to make him fall in love with you.”
She makes it sound so easy. “How?” I ask, desperation seeping into my voice. “What do I do? What do I even say?”
“Being kind to him would be a good start. Showing interest in his life. Not treating him like a thrall.”
She’s right, of course, but I’m terrified that the moment I decide to trust him, he’ll be ripped from me. I’ve faced down foes determined to spill my blood without a second’s thought, but put me in front of sky-blue eyes and it’s like my heart is going to burst from my chest. I hate feeling weak and uncertain. I hate the way Kieran makes me feel. I want the feeling gone but without it, I’m lost.
“I cannot and will not force him to accept my bite.” Even if the survival of my pack depends on me and my mating with Kieran, I’ll never force myself upon him. “I must make him trust me.”
She sighs. “You can’t rush these things. Trust in the Norns, lad. Trust that you are meant to be. He’s a good lad, I can tell, and he’s perfect for you.”
“Oh?” I look up, hopeful.
“Aye! Can you not see it? He’s got you as flustered and red-faced as a boy.”
I slap my hands over my cheeks, scowling when they’re warm. Before I can defend my honor, my people are at the door, clamoring to greet me after my long trip away. Among them is my brother Lyall and, I notice with a sigh, his twin Anders.
When I see there’s a woman on each of Anders’s arms, I grimace. It seems our brother is determined to avoid finding his mate and would rather bed down with anyone who would have him.
Anders’s cocky smile from the women’s attention falls off his face. “The human’s stink is everywhere! Why can’t you keep him outside or with the other thralls?”
“He is no thrall,” I growl, rounding on him.
Lyall throws his brother a playful smile. “Perhaps we should put you outside on a leash?”
“Try it,” Anders growls. “Get me a drink, wench.” He sends one of the women on her way with a smack on her ample bottom that makes her squeal in delight.
Lyall looks disgusted but says nothing, as do I. We’ve talked to him countless times about taking his duty to find a mate seriously, for his own good as well as ours. He’s a fool, but he’s also our brother. I’m unsure what else can be done to make him take his duties seriously.
“Is our human friend settling in?” Lyall strides to the table and happily accepts a flagon of mead a thrall hands him, her head bowed and eyes averted. She’s a pitiful-looking thing, underfed and clad in torn rags. I’d feel sorry for her, but there can be no pity for wolves as weak as her, especially from enemy packs. It’s simply the way of the world.
I shrug. “As best as he can be.”
“Human friend…” Anders mutters with disdain. We ignore him.
To keep from smacking Anders’s head from his shoulders, I ask, “Is Gunnar coming?” I haven’t seen our other brother since before I left for the raid. Last I heard, he was off on one of his many treks into the wilderness in search of game. I’ve hardly laid eyes on him in months with how frequently he disappears into the wilds. Not that anyone can blame him after all he’s been through.
Lyall nods. “He’s returned from the hunt. I believe that boar was his doing.” He motions to the fat pig on the table. “He’s gone to see… them. He told me to tell you not to wait on his behalf.”
Sorrow grips my heart. “Of course. I understand.” I will have to make time to see him after the Althing.
Anders accepts the cup of mead the woman brings him and takes a bite of a roll the other woman offers him. Thumbing away crumbs from his beard, Anders says, “He’s got to quit sulking.”
“Sulking? His mate and child were killed!” Lyall’s nostrils flare. “Leif wasn’t his fated, but he was the one he chose. Do not mock his heartbreak.”
“If he doesn’t get over himself, he’ll go berserk” It’s rare to hear Anders concerned over anyone but himself. “I miss little Bjorn as much as anyone else. Of all of you, he was the only one I could stand to be in a room with. But unless Gunnar takes another as his mate, we’ll have to put him down ourselves. He wouldn’t want the Travelers Council to strip him of his wolf. Death would be preferable to him. Is that what you want?”
Taking a gulp of mead, Anders drops into a seat at the table and puts his muddy boots up. Helga shoots him an exasperated look, one I share with her. How a cretin like Anders came from our father, I will never know. He has none of our father’s honor or the kindness I was told Mother possessed, and he’s been nothing but insufferable since I was chosen as Alpha-heir when I was five and not him, the eldest of us.
“If I were alpha, I’d force our brother to take finding a mate more seriously!” Anders growls.
“But you’re not,” I snap, silencing him. Heads turn at our display. “And you’re one to talk about finding a mate.” I motion at the women he brought in.
“I can take care of myself. Besides, I’m not the one snarling like a rabid beast anytime someone speaks poorly of the human.” Anders’s smile widens, all teeth. “You’re no fun at all. Mayhap that human’s tight little body will loosen you up a bit.”
I reach for my axe. “Do not speak of him like that.” Just knowing that he has pictured my mate in such a sexually suggestive scenario has my blood boiling.
“Enough,” Lyall growls. “We need to start the meeting.”
I take a few breaths to calm myself. To the crowd I say, “Everyone, have a seat.” Notable members of the community find their seats around the long table. I know all their faces from the smithy to a few farmers, crafters, and hunters. My heart begins to race as I anticipate the disgust that will twist their faces with what I say next.
“I have finally found my mate.” Excited whispers and gasps buzz around the room. “Once we consummate our bond, I will never fear losing control over my berserker rage. We will stand strong against those who would destroy our way of life.”
Anders clears his throat. “Ahem. Aren’t you forgetting a rather important detail, dear brother? Say, the fact that your mate is human ?” All whimsy disappears from his voice as his eyes narrow in contempt.
Grinding my teeth together as a gathering storm of whispers rise around us, I say, “Yes. My mate is human. And a man.” Not that gender has ever mattered among our pack. I have known some packs where relations between two men are forbidden if one of the men allows himself to take a more… passive role. But among ulfhednar, any mate is a gift from the Norns to be treasured and revered regardless of their gender.
“Yes, a human!” Anders announces, sweeping to his feet, his fur cloak swaying behind him as he stalks the room, eyes bright with anger. “The very same as those Christian missionaries who came to our shores all those years ago. The same who killed your neighbors, your friends and family—our very own alpha!”
Memories claw at me and try to drag me down to the icy depths.
The joy that brightened the faces of my people fades to fear and cold contempt. The whispers spread, and I catch snatches of words I never wanted to hear.
“How could the Norns choose a human as the Alpha-Mate?”
“Must be a mistake…”
“If his father were still alive, this would never have happened!”
Anders slams a fist onto the table. “My brother’s choices are not those of an alpha but of a man who would have us throw away our way of life to appease the humans! As your Alpha, I would never—”
“Enough!” The roar tears through me, rattling the plates and goblets, making the ground tremble. The beast tears at my self-control until all I want is to shed this human skin and tear the room apart. The crowd flinches back from me.
“Wulfric, calm yourself, brother. Or you’ll lose control.” Lyall lays a hand on me, and my brother’s touch soothes some of that bestial rage. But it’s not enough. I need my mate or else this room will become a bloodbath.
Clearing her throat, Helga rises and says, “Please, help yourselves to the feast.”
I pick at my food while the townsfolk discuss their issues. One man wants me to settle a dispute between him and his neighbor, who he believes stole his goat. Another wants me to arrange a duel between himself and a father who refused to pay a debt to their family.
My skull throbs. Red leaches into my vision. Saliva floods my mouth as I imagine their bloody, broken bodies piled at my feet, their blood like wine upon my tongue.
Kill them all, the berserker snarls. They will come for our mate unless you tear them to pieces.
They can’t take Kieran away from me. I won’t let them. I’ll kill anyone who so much as looks at him wrong.
Fortunately the room soon empties. Once everyone has left, Helga rounds on Anders. “If your father were here to witness such disrespect toward the man he chose as Alpha, he would box your bloody ears!”
Lyall tugs Anders outside before the two can argue. Helga bolts the door after them. She takes one look at whatever fury is etched on my face and sighs. “Poor dear. Go and see your mate.”
Breathing harshly through a mouthful of fangs, I go to my room. My claws tear strips of wood away from the door as I yank it open.
“What the fuck?” Kieran yelps, sitting upright from where he lies on a fur rug by the fire.
His scent blankets the bedroom. I breathe in deep and a wave of calm washes over me as his mountain flower scent tickles my nose. The rage drains from me, leaving only exhaustion. I lean on the wall for support. “Have you eaten?”
He shrugs. “Not hungry.”
“I can bring in some food—”
Scowling, he shakes his head. “I don’t want anything your thralls have cooked. How can you eat food they were forced to cook? When’s the last time they were offered anything from your table?” He spits the words, like he finds the idea disgusting… like I’m disgusting to him.
If he’s going to be my mate, he needs to understand that things are different from what he may be used to. “I take it you don’t keep thralls in your time.”
Kieran looks offended at the very thought. “No. Not for a very long time. Slavery is illegal in the modern world. There’s no place for it. People are not property.”
I cock my head at him, confused. “Thralls are not people.”
“Says who!”
I’m too tired for this. I undress, squirming out of my woolen shirt that suddenly feels too hot. “It’s the way things are.”
Kieran crosses his arms, making the chains connecting him to one of the legs of my bed rattle. “It isn’t right.”
Pulling my breeches down to my ankles, I kick them off so my legs are bare and I’m dressed only in my tunic. “They are too weak to fight and die with honor. Too poor to be landowners. It’s their role in life, and it’s a role we depend upon to survive.”
Another disgusted noise escapes Kieran. “That’s not true. Nobody needs slavery to survive. But I guess it’s easier to tell yourself that than to fix the issue.”
I’m done with this discussion. What were the Norns thinking, tying me to a man who can’t understand our ways? Bunching my shirt into a ball, I chuck it into the corner and turn around only to see Kieran snapping his head in another direction. I’m clad in only my undergarments. I get too hot at night beneath the furs, even when it’s freezing out.
My gaze is drawn to him, now pacing by the hearth, chains dragging on the floor. “Makes no sense,” I snarl to myself. “Why would the gods tie my soul to a man like you?”
“What are you looking at? Go to bed or something,” Kieran gripes, staring at a spot on the wall in the opposite direction of me. His scent has shifted, notes of anger heating into spicy waves of… lust.
My blood, always running hot in his presence, flows to my cock. If he were ulfhednar, I wouldn’t even hesitate to wrap him in my arms. I’d ask him to my bed, and our bodies would be one in the way only true fated mates can be. It would be so much more than sex; we’d be bound to each other, heart and soul.
A force greater than anything I’ve ever felt compels me toward him until we’re inches apart. My heart yearns for him, but my mind is in turmoil. He is almost perfect, and yet he is human.
“Your aunt told me about… uh… mates.”
If I weren’t counting the freckles on his nose, I might have scowled. “Did she?”
“Yeah.” He clears his throat, his gaze dropping to the floor. I want those beautiful eyes back on me. “So. I’m your—”
“The gods believe so. I am not convinced.”
He snorts. “Wow. Way to make a guy feel wanted.”
Guilt gnaws at me. I should be grateful. Happy. Overjoyed. And I was, at first. Until I realized just how complicated his humanity would make things. “I dreamed of meeting my mate.” Turning away from him, I drag my feet to the fireplace, resting an arm on the mantle. “Every night, I thought of you. Of what you might look like. Thought of all the ways in which I might find you. I dreamed of running with you as wolves beneath the northern lights and howling with you beneath the stars.”
I rub my chest to massage away the ache of disappointment. I will never experience that with him. I will never get to see Kieran’s wolf. He’s my mate, but he will never understand the most sacred part of me that I love most. He will never understand the ways of my people. Odin’s beard, he isn’t even of this time and place!
Kieran sighs. “You know, you’re not the only one disappointed with the shit hand he’s been dealt. I’d rather be anywhere else than on this frozen rock surrounded by shape-shifters.”
“And I would rather have anyone for my mate than you,” I snap back, and instantly regret twinges in my chest. Trying to explain myself, I add, “Your kind are my pack’s greatest enemies. Your people want nothing more than to destroy our way of life.”
“If you hate me so much, then just let me go,” Kieran demands.
I pace to my bed. “If I could, I would. But I need you if I want to keep my humanity, and like it or not, you need my protection. My pack isn’t exactly pleased that a human is my mate. If you leave my side, I can’t promise my pack won’t make you a target.”
Kieran’s quiet for once, his hands in fists at his sides. “Guess we’re stuck with each other then.” He stalks past to the fire and sits on the fur rug in front of the flames, which are burning low, in danger of fading.
I curl onto my side away from him. The room darkens as the fire dies. Something chatters behind me. It’s Kieran. He’s cold, his teeth chattering. Damn it, what if he freezes in the middle of the night? Humans are so fragile.
I rip a sheepskin blanket from the pile of furs on my bed and toss it by the fire. “There. So you won’t freeze in the night.”
Not sparing me a glance, he tugs the sheepskin over himself and lies down, his back to me.
I snuff out the candles on my bedside table, covering the room in darkness.