Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
Elara
Fingers tangled in the hair at her nape, Njáll’s palm splaying across the span of her ribs. The heat of his hand sent a delicious zip of need straight to her core.
Their lips parted for a moment, their panting breaths mingling in the space between them.
This was where she belonged, and she’d been a fool for doubting it. Their kitten jumped off her shoulder, burrowing into the furs.
The pad of his thumb stroked the base of her skull, his gaze full of such longing. It made her dizzy. Elara melted into his touch, holding him tighter.
A groan purred in his throat as she tugged his body flush against hers, burying her face in the silky fabric of his tunic.
Home.
He smelled like home.
For a long breath, Njáll held her head against him, his fingers stroking her nape in grounding touches.
Njáll pulled back enough to look into her eyes. She welcomed the sudden, fierce need that spread from her belly to the tips of her fingers.
“Mine,” he whispered, the claim a command and a plea.
His lips found hers again in a hungry, possessive kiss. It chased away any lingering worry of shadows or visions or what ifs.
It was not gentle, but rather a desperate, demanding oath—a promise. Each swipe of his tongue along hers reminded her that she was his.
And he was hers.
Njáll murmured against her lips, his deep timbre vibrating the air between them. “Take me as your shield. As your axe. Let me sin for you. Let this demon strike down any god or ghost who dares to harm you.”
A tiny growl rumbled from Elara as her nails dug into his scalp, urging his mouth back to hers. She swallowed his snarl, feeling seen for the first time by a man she was never supposed to love.
Love.
The Volva had been right.
Whatever came, she’d have him by her side.
And until then, she’d live.
“You’re mine, Njáll.”