8. Chapter 8
Chapter 8
Wulfric
The day of Kieran’s trial arrives. Dismissing the thralls from the kitchen, I gather a hunk of boar’s meat from the morning’s hunt and boil it in a pot until it is falling off the bone. I melt a hunk of butter in a pan and stir in some chopped leeks and greens and a handful of mustard seeds. I boil some wheat with the stock from the boar meat, then throw it all together and stir. There we have it, a hearty feast for a hunter of wolves.
“Is he awake yet?” Helga asks.
Grabbing three bowls, I fill them with the boar stew. “Bathing.”
She sighs softly as I hand her the bowl. “I hope the lad will be well. He’s only just learned how to use that bow.”
I squeeze my wooden bowl so hard I hear it crack. “I taught him well. His aim will be true.” It must be.
Helga tastes a mouthful of the stew and hums her satisfaction. “Are you not worried for him?”
“No.” My heart trips in my chest and a low chuckle escapes Helga.
“Oh, lad. You’re fond of him, aren’t you?”
“Hardly.” I shovel down a mouthful of stew. Kieran should hurry up with his bath. His food will get cold. “He’s still human. If he can’t prove his worth as a hunter and as my mate to our pack, then I have no use for him.” Harsh, mayhap, but true. In this life, if you’re not strong enough to fight or provide for your loved ones, then this world will eat you alive. Death would be kinder. And yet… the image of a wolf’s jaws around Kieran’s throat fills me with icy dread.
Kieran gets lost in his thoughts and freezes up rather than making a decision. That cannot happen, not today. He must not hesitate or he will die and I… I can’t lose him. For my own sake. Not because I care for him in any capacity.
Grinding my molars, I say, “If he’s so weak he can’t kill one wolf, then what good is he?” I stab my spoon into my bowl and shove the food down my throat.
Helga smiles and reaches out, her fingers settling on the back of my hand. “Mayhap you could convince your brothers with that tone of yours, but not me. You need not worry for the lad. The gods would not bring you together just to tear you apart.”
“Not worried,” I say around a mouthful of food.
The sauna room door adjacent to the kitchen creaks and Kieran comes in, skin dewy from steam, red hair sleek and flat from moisture. From what I heard, Kieran insisted on lugging water from the hot springs himself rather than make the thralls get off their hides and do it for him.
“Come eat.” I motion at his steaming bowl.
“Smells good,” he remarks, sliding into the seat opposite me and tucking in. He moans softly, and pride flares in my chest like it always does. My wolf and I delight in providing for him, pleasing him.
Kieran asks, “When does the trial begin?”
“Around midday,” I answer. “Wolves are most active at night, so they will be sluggish during the day.”
“An easier target,” Kieran guesses.
“No.” I slam my spoon down and glare at him. “Nothing about this will be easy! Get that thought from your head, or you won’t survive this trial.”
He’s unfazed by my short temper. If anything, a smile hooks the corner of his soft lips. “Worried about me?”
Why is he the second person to think I’m worried?
“No, but you should be.” My jaw’s so tight I can hardly get the words out. He could die, and he’s sitting here making jests.
“I’m the one who has to kill a fucking wolf,” Kieran snaps. “I am worried. I think. It hasn’t really set in yet.” He chews his lower lip.
“You’ll do well, lad,” Helga says. “Just focus on keeping your distance, and make sure your aim is true.”
And don’t die. You can’t die.
I keep those fears locked away in my heart and finish my meal.
A light snow falls as my brothers and I lead Kieran to the woods. The villagers watch as we pass, forming a line in the streets to wait for Kieran’s return. Excited whispers carry through the air. They want to know if they’ll have a new Alpha-Mate when the moon rises, or if I will return from the woods alone.
Gunnar was hunting in the woods yesterday when he caught a wolf’s trail, and he leads us now through the trees toward where he last scented the beast.
The quiver of arrows across Kieran’s back rattles with every step he takes. His face is stony, devoid of any humor. The reality of what awaits him in these woods must have set in. He knows he’ll either be walking out of these woods victorious or he’ll meet his end.
No matter what happens, I can’t interfere. This is Kieran’s trial, and he must earn this victory.
“My brothers and I will accompany you to observe the fight,” I tell him.
“But you won’t be able to help me if—”
“No.” I force out the word, squeezing my fists together. “Use every technique you learned in practice. Hunting a wolf is the ultimate challenge, but it is not impossible.”
Kieran breathes in frantic puffs that cloud in the cold air.
At my side, my fingers twitch in an aborted attempt to reach out and comfort him. But what good would words or gestures do? They will not help keep him alive.
Ahead of me, Lyall scents the air. “I smell a wolf.”
Gunnar narrows his eyes. “Just one?”
A wrinkle creases Lyall’s nose. “Aye. A loner. Smells sick.”
“And look, prints.” Gunnar points at the snow. “This looks like the place where I scented him yesterday.” He tips his head back and sniffs. “Trail’s stale. But his tracks lead west toward where the reindeer herd is.”
Behind us, Anders snorts. “You really think the human can handle one wolf, even a sick one? He’s as good as meat.”
Grinding my teeth so I don’t lash out at him, I forge ahead.
“I don’t know,” Lyall says, a wry smile curling his lips. “He got you pretty good, didn’t he?”
Kieran gives him an appreciative smile.
Right. Lyall has a point. Human or not, Kieran still has a fire in him. Mayhap he stands a chance against the beast after all.
A growl rumbles from Anders. “Of course you’d defend the human.”
A curious arch to his brow, Kieran turns to Lyall. “What does that mean?”
“Odin’s balls, all of you shut up!” Gunnar snaps, his teeth flashing white beneath his bushy black beard. “The wolf will hear you coming for miles, and we’ll be stuck out here all bloody day. Human, take the lead. You’re the one supposed to be following the wolf’s trail.”
“R-right.” Hurrying ahead, Kieran follows the wolf’s tracks. He’s not the best tracker and occasionally loses the trail in places where the snow is too thin to leave a trace behind, but Gunnar sets him back on the right track.
Distant bleating makes me cock my head in the direction of the noise. “There’s a herd to the southwest. That’s where our wolf will be.”
Kieran swallows visibly. “A lone wolf’s going to take on a whole herd?”
Gunnar makes a disapproving noise in the back of his throat. “Not bloody likely. But he’ll pick off the sick or the young.” Suddenly, Gunnar kneels, brows furrowing as he reaches out and touches the earth. “Something’s disturbed them. They’re on the move. Heading north. Must have spotted our wolf.”
“No. It’s more than that.” Lyall sniffs the air.
Kieran looks from one brother to the next. “What?”
“Blood,” Lyall says. “Our wolf’s or a reindeer’s.”
We pick up the pace, moving in the direction of the herd. As we break free from the trees, a herd of reindeer runs up the hill from the field below. The wind carries the scent of freshly spilled blood to my nose. Saliva floods my mouth. It’s not wolf’s blood I smell.
Kieran gasps. “Look!” He points.
A reindeer calf lies twisted on the ground, and gorging itself upon the carcass is a white wolf with blood-matted fur. The wolf is young but full grown and holds its left back leg close to its body. From the smell of the wound, it’s been infected for some time. “Do not underestimate it,” I say to Kieran. “That beast is sick but still a worthy opponent if it could take down a calf of that size.” Kneeling beside Kieran, I say, “Take aim and strike while it is distracted.”
“O-okay.” Kieran’s voice wobbles. Adjusting his stance just like we practiced, Kieran takes in a breath and draws the bow back. I follow his line of sight and with a sinking feeling in my gut realize his shot will be off seconds before he lets the arrow fly.
The arrow soars, landing with a thwack! beside the wolf. The beast startles from his meal and runs, limping away into the trees before Kieran can shoot again.
I sigh, and Lyall groans in sympathy. Anders tosses back his head and laughs. “Seems to me the human must have spent practice doing something else. On his back, mayhap, with you, brother?”
A growl rumbles up from my chest as I stare Anders down.
Kieran’s nostrils flare as he glares at Anders, but he doesn’t bother with a retort. Before I can stop him, he shoots off down the hill and pursues the wolf into the trees.
“Kieran!” I call, my heart stopping at the idea that he might come face to face with an injured, desperate animal.
Ignoring Anders’s snide remarks, I follow Kieran down the hill and back into the cover of the woods. I can’t interfere, so this need to have him in my sights makes no sense. If anything, watching him fight while unable to intervene will drive me mad. But I have to see him, to know that he’s okay.
Kieran has covered ground fast in his pursuit. As I run, the ground slopes up, growing steeper. “Kieran, wait up!” The trees grow thick around me and conceal him from sight. His scent is tangled up with the smells of the forest. Panic claws at me. Where is he?
Where is my—
A furious snarl echoes through the trees to my left. The beast inside me roars, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold back if Kieran’s been hurt. A flash of white through the forest has me running faster. The trees thin, revealing a narrow cliffside with a steep drop into the forest below. When Kieran and the wolf come into view, I have to drive my claws into a tree trunk to keep from sprinting in and ripping the wolf to pieces for threatening what’s mine.
Kieran doesn’t smell hurt, not yet, but his heartbeat thunders in my ears.
The wolf bristles with fury. The beast has trapped itself against a boulder, favoring its injured leg. But a cornered animal is the most dangerous kind.
Drawing the bow taut, Kieran prepares to strike.
But so does the wolf. The muscles coil, its body pressing low as it gathers all its strength for one final blow.
I know what’s coming. I’ve seen hunters lose their lives just like this time and again. Kieran thinks he’s won. In the time it takes to line up his shot and fire, the beast will have already struck. If Kieran misses, he’s a dead man. If I run fast, I can get to him. I can stop this. I—
The wolf pounces just as Kieran shoots. The arrow misses the wolf by inches. Then its jaws are around Kieran’s throat, and he’s crushed beneath the wolf’s body. His bow tumbles out of reach.
“No!” I rip my axe from my belt.
“Don’t!” Lyall slams into me and pins me against the tree. “You can’t interfere, brother. If you do, Kieran dies at the fangs and claws of our pack.”
“Let me go!” I roar, fangs sharp in my mouth.
Lyall flinches but shoves back against me, his arm trapping my neck against the tree. “Have faith in him! The Norns wouldn’t be so cruel.”
Snarling, I grind my teeth, driving my claws into the bark until sap sticks to my fingertips. From here, I can only watch as Kieran and the wolf struggle. Kieran’s strangled shouts tear at me. I can’t bear to watch, but I can’t look away as the pair thrash around.
With a shout, Kieran tugs an arrow from his quiver and stabs at the wolf. Yelping, the wolf stumbles off, snapping at the arrow lodged in its shoulder. Kieran rips a dagger from his belt and shouts, urging the wolf toward the steep edge of the cliff and effectively cornering it. The wolf lunges, its front legs grappling around Kieran’s shoulders, jaws snapping toward his face. They struggle, and Kieran’s back ends up facing the cliffside. Drawing back his arm, dagger in his grasp, Kieran plunges the blade toward the wolf’s neck.
This is it. He’s done it. He won. He—
The wolf snares Kieran’s shoulder between its teeth, and both man and wolf plummet from the cliff’s edge and disappear from view.
“Kieran!” I roar, charging toward the edge. Gunnar and Lyall both grab my arms as if they knew I’d go leaping down after him if there was a chance I could save him.
The first thing I see is blood, a pool of it beneath Kieran and the wolf. Kieran lies atop the wolf, motionless. Bile rises in my throat and regret claws at me, dragging me down until I fear I will drown in it. He was just a human. He didn’t belong in this world. If I had never laid eyes on him, if I had just stayed away…
Gods. I should have been better to him. I should have appreciated the one and only mate the Norns gifted me instead of yearning for another.
Closing my eyes, I sink into despair.
“Brother, look!” Lyall says, his voice full of hope.
Kieran lies still. So still that my heart stops and I fear the worst.
Then his chest swells around a great inhale, and he bolts upright. Leaves are tangled in his red locks, and dirt streaks his freckled cheeks. Lyall stumbles away from me, wide-eyed and mouth gaping. Slowly, Kieran pushes himself up, and the sun frames him in golden light. He yanks on the dagger he stabbed into the wolf’s eye seconds before the fall and holds it up triumphantly to the sunlight as his face breaks into a radiant smile.
The breath catches in my throat.
I’m in awe of him, this little human whose heart beats with the strength and bravery of a wolf.
How could I have thought for one moment that this man wasn’t worthy of being my mate?
I see now it is I who was not worthy. I let myself be distracted by all that he isn’t instead of trying to see all that he is. His kind heart and smart mouth, his compassion for even the lowest castes of society, the strength of his spirit for thriving in this world so unlike his own.
Gods, forgive me for being so foolish. I only hope he will allow me to make it up to him by proving myself a mate deserving of him.
“A thrilling hunt, Kieran!” Lyall and Gunnar carefully climb down to meet him.
Leaning on a rock, Kieran exhales shakily. “Thought I was a goner there for a second.”
Gunnar nudges the corpse with his boot. “A good kill. You should be proud.”
Kieran meets my eyes. Before I can go to him, Anders bursts through the trees behind me. Shoving past me, he looks from the wolf to Kieran, unharmed, and rounds on me. “This is a trick! You interfered, didn’t you, Wulfric?”
I chuckle, unfettered by his rage. “Not at all! The glory goes to Kieran.”
Kieran stands up straighter and sticks out his chest. “Yup. I did that.”
A burst of laughter escapes Anders, and he howls until he’s doubled over. His humor fades as he looks among us like he’s waiting for someone to tell him who really killed the wolf. “You… you’re serious? No. No, it can’t be.” His reaction doesn’t sit well with me. As Anders’s heart races out of control, I realize my brother’s not just angry; he’s terrified. “He’s going to be one of us? An outsider?”
Folding my arms, I meet his gaze head-on. “Aye. He will.” Kieran has proved himself worthy of being one of us. He should never have needed to prove his worth to me, though. I should have trusted the Norns.
Turning away from his outraged face, I rush to Kieran’s side.
My relief and worry wage war inside me. I’m shaking from how close I came to losing him. “You could have been killed.”
Kieran’s smile falls off his face. I didn’t mean for my words to come out so harsh. “I know. I forgot a lot of my training.”
I fold my arms so I don’t reach out to him. “You did. It could have cost you your life. By all rights, you shouldn’t have survived. You’re human. Soft and weak.”
“Brother,” Lyall begins sharply.
I push on, ignoring him. “That’s what I believed. No matter how hard I trained you, you could never be one of us. The events of today have shamed me.”
Kieran winces. “Wulfric—”
I take one step, then another, and yank him into my arms, holding him to my chest. “Never in my life have I been more wrong about another as I was about you, my mate. I am so sorry that I ever doubted you.”
Kieran goes still in my arms with a soft, shaky gasp.
I hide my face in his hair, my lips brushing against his ear when I say, “You fight with the bravery and cunning of any wolf, little rabbit. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.”
Slowly, Kieran lifts his arms and wraps them around my shoulders. It’s a stiff, awkward embrace at first, until he leans into me with a quiet sigh, squeezing me tight. My wolf preens, loving how near he is, the way his scent wraps around me like a blanket.
“So, I did it?” Kieran asks, looking up at me with wide eyes. “I passed the trial, right?”
My mouth twitches into a smile I quickly stifle. He’s cute when he’s nervous. “There was another part of the trial I neglected to mention. You must kill three other animals. A raven. A salmon. A bear. Only then—”
“Are you kidding me?”
I can’t help it and burst into laughter at his shocked face. “I’m only teasing you. Aye. You passed. Once you don the furs tonight, you will officially be one of our pack.”
And worthy of being my mate, but I don’t say that part aloud. He knows.
He exhales, shoulders sagging in relief. “You asshole. Don’t joke like that.” He shoves my shoulder, practically pouting. “Your face is so damn serious all the time it’s hard to tell when you’re joking or not.”
“Apologies.” Reaching out, I wipe a smear of blood from his freckled cheek. “Are you hurt?”
“N-no. Not badly.” He touches his neck. A shiver runs down my spine. I almost lost him. Never again will I know fear like that. From this moment on, Kieran will have the protection of my pack’s name and my body. I will throw myself in front of a whole pack of ravenous wolves if it means keeping him safe.
“Let’s get you home and prepared for the feast.”
Draping my furs around his shoulders, I lead him back to the village.
As the sun bleeds the sky red, I skin the wolf Kieran hunted. I work with sure, steady hands but inside, my heart won’t stop racing. When I realized Kieran was human, it was like my heart had been torn from my chest. I thought I would miss out on so many experiences ulfhednar couples share, such as shifting and running together. My heart quivers knowing that tonight I will get to see my mate experience the thrills of the shift for the first time.
Once the pelt has been skinned carefully and expertly, if I say so myself, I tuck it under my arms and step out into the darkening village. The sun has gone down, and the moon is bright in the night sky, almost completely full. Come Frigga’s Day tomorrow, it will be a full moon, and Kieran and I will mate.
Excitement flutters through my stomach as I make my way through the village and into the woods where we hold the rituals. A crowd has gathered around a rune stone painstakingly chiseled from a boulder. It is stained with wolf’s blood and decorated with the bones of prey animals and wolves. A shrine to Fenrir.
There’s the beat of drums, sounding like thunder on the horizon. When the crowd parts and my eyes land on Kieran, it’s like a hook pulls in my chest, urging me to go to him. He looks small beneath the shrine, his face streaked with wolf’s blood and ashes from the burned body. Blood smears his mouth from the wolf’s heart he would have consumed prior to joining us. I almost chuckle imagining his reaction. Pride courses through me. How could I have been so wrong about him?
He has been baptized. The time is now.
Holding out the fur, I say words I have spoken many times before but tonight they have new meaning. “You are one of us now. Blood of our blood and flesh of our flesh. We are your pack. I am your Alpha. You will never hunt or howl alone in this life.”
A shaky sigh escapes him, and his eyes are wide. With trembling hands he clasps the fur and pulls it over his shoulders. As soon as the wolf’s white fur falls over his head, the change begins. Kieran drops to all fours and gasps, limbs jerking as fur spreads down his body.
Reaching out, I grab his hand as it becomes a white paw and hold on tight. “I am with you,” I promise him. “I am here. Don’t fight this. Embrace who you were meant to be.”
Wide blue eyes find mine beneath the hood as he pants through a mouthful of fangs. “W-Wulfric…”
“You can do this.” I cup his face in my hands. “Let go.”
A strangled snarl escapes him and his face shifts from man to wolf. In seconds, where a man once knelt is a beautiful wolf with fur so bright and white it makes the moon look dull by comparison.
The wolf’s glorious blue eyes find mine and a little whine escapes him, full of confusion and awe. I take his face between my hands and whisper, “You are more beautiful than the moon itself.”
His tail wags and he bumps his head into my nose. Ouch . Laughing, I tug my hood on and let the change take me as well.
The pack howls their greeting around us, having shifted while Kieran was undergoing his transformation. On all fours, I approach Kieran as a wolf. His mountain flower scent coaxes a pleased rumble from my chest and makes my tail wag. Reaching out, I touch his forehead with the tip of my nose, then rub my body along his, greeting him as any mate would.
To my surprise, he leans his long, lanky body into me and almost falls when I wander out of his reach. Before I can walk away, Kieran chases after me, sniffing me everywhere, tail wagging furiously. Then he drops into a play bow, wagging tail high in the air.
Joy surges through me, and I tackle him. We wrestle then break apart, and he runs off into the woods, commanding me to give chase. Just like I’ve always dreamed of, I run beside my mate beneath the glowing northern lights.