9. Chapter 9
Chapter 9
Kieran
The wedding… mating ceremony, whatever they call it, happens on Frigga’s Day, the day after my trial. All weddings are held on Frigga’s Day, the day dedicated to the goddess of marriage and fertility. No one in the village seems to care that two guys are getting mated. To me, it’s pretty cool. Wulfric’s union to a man is being celebrated over a thousand years before same-sex couples were allowed to get married.
It’s a fact I try and distract myself with to keep from acknowledging that today I’m getting married—mated—to a man I barely know who took me captive. A man who barely more than a week ago said he would never see me as his mate.
Except somehow I don’t think that’s still how he feels. After I killed that wolf, the way he looked at me was… different. Like he saw me in a new light. The awe in his eyes as he knelt before me, holding out the wolf’s pelt, still makes me shiver when I recall it.
When I shifted for the first time, I saw the whole world differently. Like someone had flicked a switch in my brain. My vision was sharper. Every scent commanded my attention. I was faster than I’d ever been on two legs and all the anxious noise in my head finally shut up. All that mattered was smelling all the smells, chasing whatever moved, and then… then I smelled him.
As Wulfric’s huge black wolf came toward my smaller white one, he eclipsed everything and everyone else. His scent was familiar and yet so different, like the world I’d found myself in. The crisp mountain air and pine tree aroma that always clung to him was even more pronounced. Wulfric smelled like my past and my present all rolled into one.
He smelled… like mine.
As I think back on that moment while lying on my furs by the hearth, I shake my head. I don’t know how else to describe the primal urge that came over me in that moment. A rush of possessiveness and need I’d never felt for anyone before.
Good thing my wolf seems to like him. I just wish I was surer of how I feel toward him. I mean, he’s not a complete asshole. He’s cooked meals for me so I don’t go hungry, trained me, and I owe my survival to him. Without Wulfric, I could never have passed that trial.
Now it’s time for me to keep my end of our bargain… and mate with him.
Groaning, I yank the furs up to my face and hide in them.
It’s not like having sex with him will be a hardship at all. I can imagine it all too easily. It’s the whole marriage part. At least, I assume mating with a werewolf is the wolfy equivalent of a human marriage.
Oh god. Is it?
I still don’t know shit about ulfhednar.
The door swings open and Helga practically skips inside. “Wake up, lad! It’s your big day!”
“Don’t remind me,” I grumble into the furs.
“Get out of bed, break your fast, and then meet Lyall in the woods.”
Rubbing my eyes, I sit up. “Where specifically? Am I looking for a special tree stump or something?”
She laughs. “You’re ulfhednar now, lad. You’ll find them by their scent.”
I sit at the table and she plops a bowl in front of me. It’s some kind of porridge. Closing my eyes, I sniff and recoil.
Helga’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “I still remember my first shift.”
“It’s like I was living in black and white and someone went and switched on the Technicolor.”
She cocks her head, clearly confused.
“Nothing.” I sniff the bowl again, parsing through the ingredients. “Leeks. Barley. Some kind of fish? And something else. Something herby.”
“Aye, that would be the angelica you’re smelling.”
“And the fish?” I lift a spoonful and blow away steam.
“That would be stockfish.”
Never heard of it, but it tastes pretty good. My mind wanders to memories of my shift last night.
“How does it feel being one of us, lad?” she asks.
I stare at my hand, expecting to sprout claws. I’ve seen Wulfric do it seemingly on command. “Well, the trial sucked. It was a horrible experience. Then you had me eat that disgusting heart.” My gag reflex prickles just remembering. “I didn’t think anything could be worth that, except my life, obviously. But then I shifted and… it felt amazing.”
She grins. Her teeth are stained and she’s missing a few. I wish I could find a way to bring my knowledge of modern dental hygiene here. People could really benefit from the advancements in the future. “Doesn’t it?” She sighs wistfully.
“I can’t wait to do it again. It was so… freeing! My head is such a noisy place.”
“Oh?” Concern knits her brows.
“Yeah. I second-guess everything. I worry all the time. But as a wolf, all of that nonsense just went away. Everything got so quiet.” It’s crazy that I had to become a werewolf to feel the way normal people without anxiety must feel. “I wish I could feel that way all the time.”
She hums thoughtfully and stirs her stew. “Wulfric feels that way at times.”
I can’t stop the snort I make. “Yeah, right. Like that guy ever worries about anything.”
“Oh, he does. Being Alpha is very hard. He must make decisions that impact our community every single day.”
When she says it like that, I feel like an asshole. So many of my own anxieties are about stupid shit that shouldn’t even matter but that my brain can’t stop picking at. I could never be a leader like Wulfric. “I wouldn’t even think that he gets anxious. He’s so…”
Wulfric’s everything I’m not. A warrior. Confident. Brave and strong. I could never be good enough for him. I shake my head to clear it. Why do I care about being enough for Wulfric? It’s not like we’re friends or even dating. The mating ceremony is for his sanity’s sake and so I won’t be targeted by his pack. How he feels about me isn’t important.
“Where is Wulfric anyway?” I ask. “Does he have to do some ritual, too?”
“Oh, he’ll be off hunting for you, to prove he can provide.”
“What about me? Do I need to do any more rituals?”
“Go and meet Lyall. He’ll aid you.”
Once breakfast is done, I wander outside and look around for Lyall. Right. I’m a wolf now. That’s going to take getting used to. Breathing in deep, I wrinkle my nose when an abundance of smells hits me all at once. It takes me a moment to pick apart each scent that clouds the air, but I know I’ve caught Lyall’s trail when I find it.
In the woods beyond the house, I follow Lyall’s scent up a hill. There’s a big tree that looks like it’s been there forever, its branches reaching high enough to overlook the village. Lyall sits at the foot of the trunk, head back and eyes closed. His long golden hair blows loose about his face, a face so like his brother’s, just softer where Wulfric’s is stony.
“Lyall?”
His bright eyes fly open, and my acute hearing doesn’t miss his sharp intake of breath.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to disturb your nap.”
“Wasn’t sleeping.” The sunlight filters through the tree’s leaves, shining on his face. Bags hang under his heavy-lidded eyes. It doesn’t look like he slept at all last night.
I plop down beside him and yawn. “Last night wore me out.”
He hums, closing his eyes. “I can only imagine.” His baritone is softer than Wulfric’s, who manages to sound like he’s growling every word most of the time. “You did well.”
What happened after my shift is a blur, but most of what I remember is of Wulfric. Running with him. Hearing him howl. The way he rubbed along my body. “How old were you when you first shifted?”
“Old enough to wield an axe and draw a bow.” He runs a hand over his beard, bushy and decorated with a few beads. “It’s been a long while since we’ve had a successful Hunter’s Moon ceremony. Only the most worthy survive the trials.” Rising to his feet, Lyall says, “Come, brother! Let us hunt.”
I don’t know what to be more confused about, that he considers me family so easily or that we’re going hunting again. “You don’t need to call me that, you know. I haven’t done anything to earn it.”
Lyall looks bewildered. “Of course you have. You’re part of our pack now, Kieran. From here on out, we’re brothers, you and I.”
For some reason, a lump gets stuck in my throat. “Oh. You really feel that way?”
“Of course!” He smiles, bright and warm as the sunshine.
To be accepted by him so simply warms my heart. My own family never accepted me or made me feel like I was good enough, but somehow this pack who I’ve only known a short while is slowly welcoming me as one of their own. “Thank you.” I clear my throat. “So, we’re hunting?”
“Aye. It’s tradition. Every mating ceremony, the mated pair must present the other with prey they hunted themselves. Proof they can provide.”
“That’s… cute.” And completely archaic.
As if sensing my reluctance, Lyall elbows me, grinning. “Relax. We’re only hunting something small.”
“Oh. Like a rabbit?”
He guffaws, slapping his thigh. “A rabbit! Mayhap that’s suitable, aye, for a farmer’s son! But not for an alpha like Wulfric.” Grabbing my shoulders, he steers me down the hill. “Come! We’re hunting my brother a bear cub!”
My mouth falls slack. “What? No!”
We don’t hunt a bear cub, thank fuck. Lyall is much easier to talk out of stupid ideas than Wulfric. We do bring down a reindeer, though. We spend the whole afternoon stalking the beast. Lyall’s wolf is huge like his brother’s, so I’m able to drape the reindeer calf over his back.
“The herds are getting thinner.”
I jump, alarmed when a very Scandinavian voice speaks very close by me. “What was that?” I look every which way but there’s nothing around us except wild, rugged wilderness.
With a noise similar to laughter, Lyall bumps his huge head into the small of my back.
“Me, my friend. I can feel you through our bonds ever since you shifted.” Lyall’s voice rings through my head.
“Bonds?”
“Aye. When we’re shifted, every pack has the ability to communicate through the bonds that connect us to each other. When you became ulfhednar, you became pack.”
I rub my chest, not feeling any different. “So you can communicate with everyone in your village?”
He sneezes, then gives his big shaggy head a shake. “No. Can you imagine how loud it would get up here?” His face breaks into a wolfy grin. “It’s only with our immediate family or those we have a very close bond to.”
A memory of Anders’s snarling face makes me shiver. “I won’t be able to hear Anders’s thoughts, will I?”
“No. He barely communicates with us as is.” Lyall’s lips curl over his sharp fangs. “I wish he’d understand that not all humans are bad. Some of them are, aye, but when I was a pup, there was this lad my age. A human. He…” His tail droops, and his head hangs low. I’ve never seen an animal look so sad before.
“He what?”
Giving himself a shake, Lyall lopes ahead. “Nothing.”
I’m curious, but I never want to be the one to make light-hearted Lyall look so sad, so I shove my questions down and follow him back to the village. Lyall shifts back to a man, hefting the calf over one broad shoulder. “Oh, hold on a moment. Helga wanted me to loan you some of my old clothes for the ceremony tonight.”
My stomach lurches. “Oh. Yeah. The ceremony.”
Kicking open his front door, Lyall dumps the calf across the table, then urges me to follow him into his bedroom. I freeze as I cross the threshold, remembering Anders’s broken promise to bring me a branch that could transport me back to my present. Supposedly, Lyall has one.
A realization makes my heart skip. This could be my chance. They trust me. I’m one of them. I could take the branch and go without even becoming Wulfric’s mate. My stomach churns uneasily. I know for sure if I try and escape again, I’ll break any trust I’ve worked so hard to build. But what would that matter when I could finally go home? I could go back to where everything is familiar. Plumbing! Iced coffee! I could see my family again, my coworkers, Amanda, and be back in my apartment in New York City. All without binding myself to Wulfric.
That would be such a betrayal to Wulfric and somehow, I hate the idea of hurting him like that.
A voice growls in my head, Wulfric. Mate. Mine. Stay.
Before I can stop myself, I’ve bolted across the room, driven toward the door by a force I can’t name. I need to see him. I have to go to him. Now. Right now. Bring him the reindeer, show him I’m worthy. Run with him. Hunt with him. Bite him.
Claim him.
“Shit!” I wrench my hand back from the doorknob by sheer force of will. The tips of my hands end in claws.
“Everything all right?” Lyall calls.
“Y-yeah. Fine!” I have to grind my teeth against the growing urge to sprint from the room. Fur sprouts on my arms, white as the pelt I wear. Panting from the effort of holding myself back, I lean on the table.
Whatever that feeling was, it didn’t come from me. But it was strong, an urge unlike any I’ve ever felt before, so strong I almost ran right out the door and straight to Wulfric. “Uh. Lyall?”
A grunt answers me. It sounds like Lyall is rummaging around in a drawer.
“Can our wolves do other things? Like… talk to us?”
A chuckle. “Oh, aye! Being ulfhednar means sharing our bodies with the spirit of a wolf. Our instincts run strong. It’s usually best to listen.”
“So I’m being haunted by the ghost of the wolf I murdered?”
“What?” Judging by how perplexed he sounds, he probably thinks I’m an idiot.
“Never mind.” Taking a seat at the table, I focus and try to home in on whatever wolfy instincts are swirling inside me.
I know how I feel. I want to leave and go home. And yet something else gnaws at me. A sense of wrongness almost like a gut instinct. It must be my damn wolf. I want to leave, but maybe he doesn’t. Fuck. I’m the worst werewolf, ulfhednar, ever. Somehow, my stupid wolf thinks leaving would be a bad idea.
Because of Wulfric. I promised Wulfric. We had a deal.
He isn’t who I thought he was. The past week while we trained, I saw a whole other side of him. He was patient with me. Dedicated to my survival, even if it was mostly for his own benefit. He needs me to stay sane, after all.
He saved my life when he offered to train me. How can I run away now and break my word?
But what was that feeling just now? My wolf whispered something to me. Something like… mate?
Is Wulfric my mate? I know he thinks I’m his because of whatever wolfy instincts he has, but I’m human. Except I’m not. Not anymore. I’m ulfhednar now. I have all the same instincts he does. And said instincts are screaming at me to go find Wulfric and hump his damn leg, apparently.
Oh god. No. No, no, no. This has got to stop. I’ve got to leave before I start believing in all this werewolf soulmate crap.
“All right. Think I’ve got everything. How do you like this shirt?” Lyall’s in the doorway, a bundle of clothes in his arms.
I could ask him to find one in another color or style, then while he’s distracted, I could try and find the branch.
“Kieran?” Lyall looks concerned at my indecision.
I smile and say, “It’s… It looks great, Lyall. Thanks.”
He grins. “Of course, but remind Helga to take it in for you!”
My heart races fast as I leave Lyall’s house.
This is it. I’ve made my choice.
I’m mating with Wulfric tonight and then, I’m going home.
If my wolf even lets me leave at all…
Before I left, Lyall told me of some customs I needed to be aware of for the mating ceremony. Bathing is important. Cleansing impurities, that sort of thing. But also who wants to smell like ass at their own wedding? Once I’m at the longhouse, I lock myself in the sauna and sit anxiously in my own sweat. I leave feeling overheated and tired.
Inside the kitchen, thralls stir the contents of iron cauldrons and soapstone kettles full of food and roast various ingredients over the embers. They carry barrels of liquor out into the yard behind the house. They’re working their asses off preparing a feast for Wulfric and me. I can’t be with someone who keeps thralls, even if it is socially acceptable in this timeline. Everything here is too different, too backwards.
“There you are, lad!” Helga motions me over to a chair by the hearth and hands me one of the shirts Lyall brought over. “I took in your shirts like you asked. Let me know how they fit now.”
In the bedroom, I dress in front of the mirror. The silk shirt is smooth against my skin, the leather breeches a bit long in the ankle but otherwise comfortable. My fur cape keeps the cold out, though the chill in the air doesn’t bother me much anyway. Not now that I’m a wolf. The man staring back at me in the mirror looks like a different person, parts of his hair braided, bronze scruff on his jaw. I don’t look like the man who came to Reykjavik and got lost in another time.
I look like the people roaming the streets outside the windows. Like I belong here. With them. My pack. If I go back to my time, would I be the same or would a beast still howl beneath my skin? How can I return to a normal life when I’m not normal anymore?
I invite Helga in to approve her handiwork.
Helga squeezes my shoulders. “Such a handsome lad. Are you ready, dear?”
A smile trembles on my lips. “I think so.”
She grins, eyes alight. “Then let’s go find your mate.”
A mug of ale later, and she practically has to carry me out of the house. Not from the ale, though. My knees are shaking too badly to support myself. Moonlight spills from behind a cloud, and heat prickles over my skin. All of a sudden, everything is too hot.
“All right, lad?” Helga asks.
Lurching to a stop, I take in a shallow gulp of air. The night has gone from cool and pleasant to stiflingly hot. I grip my shirt and fan myself with it. “Is it hot to you?”
A frown wrinkles her brow. “No. It’s quite a mild night. Are you sure you’re feeling well?”
I have no idea how to explain the sudden ache in my balls, so I don’t say a thing. What gives? Why am I so horny all of a sudden?
The pack awaits us in the woods. A band plays lyres, bone flutes, and drums, and blows horns in a toe-tapping cacophony of sound. Tables have been set up, covered with cloth, and laden with dishes. In a firepit there’s the charred carcass of a whole goat.
Roast chickens rotate on a spit, dripping juices into bowls to be used for stock later, I’m sure. Bowls of meat are bathed in sweet red berry sauce. Boiled fish wait to be devoured, seasoned with herbs and stewed with turnips and butter. Mugs of ale and mead clutter every table. There’s more food than a whole pack of ulfhednar can eat. All this effort, for Wulfric and me. I almost feel guilty for thinking I’ll puke if I eat any of it.
There’s a tugging in my soul and I know he’s near. But where? Where is he? Where is mine? Flashes of heat roll over my skin as I weave through the crowd. I need to get to him. Wulfric can help me. He’ll know what to do. I don’t understand how I know this—it must be a wolf thing.
Shaking free of Helga, I move before I can rationalize a thing. Instinct drives me forward, following the scent that sings to me. Just like last night after my first shift, something lights up in my chest and this time I know what it is. A bond, a golden thread tying me to Wulfric and Wulfric to me. But it’s incomplete. We’re connected, but we’re not one. Not yet.
Shaking free of the crowd, I catch my breath. When I see him, everything just… stops. The noise of the crowd fades to distant buzzing, and his scent fills the air around me. Wulfric waits for me in the clearing beneath the swirling northern lights, wearing tight leather pants and a tunic so white it seems to glow. Those eyes like shards of moonlight find mine, and he looks at me like I’m the aurora borealis that lights up the night sky.
Mine, my wolf howls.
“Are you well?” he asks, approaching me.
I stumble away from him, alarmed by the sudden surge of want that possesses me. “Am I… what?”
“Are you feeling all right? Your face is flushed.”
Am I feeling all right? I don’t know. Everything’s gone sort of numb because I’ve just noticed the wooden arch behind him.
I’m getting married, mated, I don’t even know what to call it. With my last boyfriend, Mark, I thought we would be together forever. As I’ve approached thirty, I’ve thought a lot about my future and when I pictured marriage, it was always to a man I loved, my dream partner in every way. And Wulfric couldn’t be further from any of my fantasies.
I don’t love him but here I am, about to do the werewolf equivalent of tying our souls together forever. My lungs seize, and I can’t even suck in a pinch of air. As my heart pounds hard enough to beat out of my chest, I know I have to run and fast.
“Kieran!”
I ignore Wulfric’s shout and bolt, tearing into the trees. I don’t get far, struggling to breathe around the panic clawing at my chest. If I can just shift, I can run faster, get away before anyone catches me and forces me back.
I yank the fur hood over my head and lose my footing as the shift takes over. But it's so damn slow. My limbs jerk and seize, and to my horror, I lose all control of my body. Mentally, I scream at myself to run, but all I can do is twitch and jerk as my panicking body fights the changes. I end up stuck somewhere between man and wolf, my body covered in thick fur but still human.
Curling in on myself, I choke back sobs. What a nightmare. I wish this wasn’t real. I wish I could close my eyes, open them, and find myself back in my bed. I miss my job. My family. Amanda. All I want is to go home.
“Kieran?”
Big hands grip my fur cloak and pull it back. The shift falls away from me, leaving me human once more. I whimper and hide my tear-stained face from Wulfric, but the bastard can probably smell my tears. As he leans over me, his body blocks out the light of the moon.
“Nervous? I was too this morning.”
A sound between a laugh and a sob escapes me. I can’t even manage words.
“Breathe with me. It will pass.” He takes in a deep breath and blows it out.
My lungs are too tight to manage more than a shallow breath. Wulfric’s hand, warm and soothing, glides up and down my back. “That’s it. That’s good. You’re safe.”
Is he… comforting me?
Wulfric rubs the nape of my neck, and a low, contented rumble escapes me. “Relax, little rabbit. We’re going to be mated, but that doesn’t change our deal. I will not force you to stay with a man you can barely stand.” With every rhythmic breath and gentle touch of Wulfric’s hand, my wolf settles. “Your wolf likes me, at least.” He chuckles, a low and rusty sound that spreads warmth throughout my cold body.
My wolf’s instincts tell me to trust Wulfric, so I do. I breathe with him, leaning into his comforting touch, and I can finally take a full breath.
Wulfric offers an unsure smile. “Better?”
Not really, but at least I’m not panicking now. I sit up slowly.
“I wish things were different,” Wulfric confesses, heaving a low sigh. “In a perfect world, you would not have had to prove yourself to my pack. At a glance, we would have trusted our bond and fallen in love. I would have worshipped you the rest of our lives together. But that isn’t what happened.”
A lump rises in my throat. Why do I hate feeling like I’m disappointing him?
Wulfric scowls and looks away, scratching the back of his neck. “When I was a lad, my father took me hunting. I would not hunt and kill the prey we needed to survive the coming winter.”
“Why not?” I ask, not really caring, just needing to keep my racing mind focused on something.
“Because I didn’t want to harm an innocent creature. I knew where meat came from, but looking the rabbit in the eyes and knowing what I had to do… It was harder than I thought it would be. My father was not happy, but no matter what he said, I was stubborn. When I woke up the next morning, he was gone.”
That catches me off guard. “Your dad left you alone in the woods? How old were you?”
Wulfric shrugs. “I hadn’t seen my ninth winter yet.”
“But you could have died!”
He nods. “If I was too weak to survive, then it would have been the gods’ will that I die rather than burden my pack.”
“That’s messed up, Wulfric.”
“It’s the way of this world. I didn’t like it, but I had to kill that rabbit so that I would have enough food for the journey back to the village. I did what I had to in order to survive, and so must you. I need you to do this, Kieran. It’s obvious you hold no love for me. So do it for yourself. Do what you have to in order to return to your time.” With a sigh, he rises and turns away. “Take the time you need. I will wait under the arch.”
Before he can go, I ask, “How did you know how to help me?” I didn’t mean to ask, but the question just slipped out. How had Wulfric known how to calm my anxiety attack?
Wulfric’s steps falter. He looks back at me, opens his mouth, but seems to think better of it. Turning away, he disappears into the trees.
I remain where I am on the forest floor, breathing in slowly to center myself. As much as I hate it, Wulfric is right. I must do what it takes to get home.
I follow the tugging in my chest back to the clearing where a crowd has assembled before the wooden arch. Heart beating hard in my ears, I make myself take one step and then another. The crowd parts for me, revealing Wulfric beneath the arch. Music plays. I think it’s a guitar, no, a lyre. Making myself breathe, I focus on his face. He’s a handsome, moody bastard, I’ll give him that. Of all the guys I could have been forced to mate with, at least he’s good-looking—and kind, I guess, in his own surly way.
We stand toe to toe beneath the arch. Wulfric is uncharacteristically fidgety, unable to hold my gaze for longer than a second. His heart races fast, his chest testing the laces on his tunic with each swift inhalation. I’ve never seen him so nervous before. It’s kind of nice, knowing such a high-and-mighty alpha wolf gets as nervous as I do.
Cracking a smile, I reach out and touch his hand, teasing him. “Relax. Nerves aren’t a good look on you.”
He glowers at me.
The priest comes to stand between us. I’m focused on Wulfric’s hand in mine, needing something to ground me, so I don’t really pay attention to anything he’s saying. Until Wulfric speaks, his deep voice cutting through the noise in my head.
“From henceforth, I vow to you that you shall have the protection of my pack. Be it with fang or claw, my blade or my body, I will protect you from my enemies, provide for you in times of hardship, and… love you until my dying breath.” He chokes on the last word but to his credit, gets through it without looking too pained.
Shit. I have to speak now. It’s a werewolf version of a wedding, so I figured there’d be vows, but I was also hoping I’d be drunk by now. Except werewolves can’t get drunk. So instead of talking, my brain just… freezes. The silence gets thicker as the crowd waits with bated breath for me to honor their Alpha with loving words. My face burns hotter and my chest gets tighter.
Clearing my throat, I stammer, “W-Wulfric…” Shit, what’s his last name? “Is your last name Wolf-Heart?” I whisper, then wince because everyone in this crowd’s a damn werewolf and now knows I don’t even know their Alpha’s last name.
A smile twitches his lips. “Eriksson.”
It’s a good name. “Wulfric Eriksson, I offer you this… prey. That I hunted. For you. It’s over there.” I point to the table. Lyall is standing beside the reindeer calf we caught, which is roasting over the flames. He waves. “Um. I know I’m not the mate you expected.” I wince. Way to air that in front of the crowd. “And I’m not a great hunter. Or much of a warrior. Or really anything special. But—”
“You will be.”
“Huh?”
Wulfric squeezes my hand in his, his silver eyes never leaving mine. “Trust in the gods. They brought us together for a reason, no matter how unconventional we may be. You will do incredible things, Kieran, and I…” He swallows hard. “I can’t wait to see it.”
I must be having a rougher day than I thought because suddenly I want to cry.
Oh man. If Amanda could see me now. I wish she was here.
Wulfric’s sudden kindness makes me forget the priest is here until he binds our joined hands with cords and asks us to repeat after him as he reads us our vows. The words fall from my numb lips, barely registering. I grip more tightly to Wulfric’s hand and focus on all the shades of gray in his eyes.
The priest says, “Before the eyes of the gods, I declare this couple bonded for life. You may kiss.”
Oh, right. The kiss. I haven’t even had time to prepare myself. Shit. I haven’t kissed anyone new since Mark and I started dating. Before I can overthink a thing, Wulfric pulls me in close. When his lips collide with mine, Wulfric is all I can taste and smell, his scent sweet and clean as a mountain breeze.
Closing my eyes, I breathe in his scent, lose myself in the touch of his hand on my cheek, calloused but surprisingly gentle. It’s nothing like our vows, which were awkward and unrehearsed. No, kissing Wulfric feels… right. More than right. Heat spreads from where our lips meet all throughout my body. A sudden, powerful ache of want and need takes me by storm. Grabbing his face between my hands, I lose myself in kissing him, chasing his taste.
I need him. Need him to put his hands on me and possess me, body and soul. I need him to put his fangs in my skin and bite until I bleed. Need him to claim me as his and extinguish the raging fire coursing through me.
Alpha, the wolf whines.
I break the kiss, gasping and alarmed, and find Wulfric’s eyes full of concern, like he knows something I don’t.
What in the fuck is wrong with me?