Passion of a Wolf (Viking Wolves #4)

Prologue

Gunnar

“Before the eyes of the gods, I declare you bonded for life.”

I can’t stop smiling when my older brother Lyall leans in and kisses Soren, the man he’s loved since childhood. Beside me, my husband Leif elbows me. “Reminds me of our wedding.”

I blush up to my ears. “I sure hope we didn’t do that,” I say, motioning at the deep, passionate kiss Lyall and Soren are locked in. Is Lyall trying to suck Soren’s soul out through his mouth? “Save it for the bedchamber!” I call, grinning when they both break apart, blushing but laughing.

“Don’t be cruel!” Leif admonishes. Leaning down, he whispers to our infant son, “Your da is the spawn of Loki!”

Bjorn smiles, waving his little fists in delight when Leif kisses his ears.

Ah, but my heart feels as if it will burst when I look at them!

It wasn’t long ago that Leif and I adopted him.

With both his parents dead, he needed a family to care for him.

I’d wanted to adopt him right away. Leif had worried we weren’t ready, but when he’d met the little lad, he’d had his heart stolen, as I had. I knew he would make a great father.

Beside me, Anders watches his twin and Soren lead the way to the longhouse where the feast will be held. “They’re a good match. Soren’s been working hard on that farm of his. He gave us some of his best sheep.”

“Aye, Lyall will be well looked after,” I agree. As will Soren. Mating the son of the Alpha has immeasurable benefits. “May they never go hungry or want for anything.”

Bjorn starts crying.

Leif says, “Hungry, little lamb? Let’s go and find Anna.” As if he recognized her name, Bjorn stops crying and brightens up. The lad loves his wet nurse.

Leif’s own stomach growls, and I jump to my feet, eager to provide for my mate. “Stay put, dear. I’ll get us some of the meat pies.”

Inside the longhouse, I’m pleased to see that our father spared no expense for my brother’s special day.

Minstrels fill our childhood home with music.

Our people dance and cheer, and the festivities spill out the doors and into the streets.

Leif goes off to find Anna while I squeeze through the crowd to get to the food.

My shoulder knocks into someone. “Brother!” Lyall’s face is red from mirth as he wrests me into a back-breaking hug. “Have you ever seen such a feast as this? Even Wulfric’s having fun.”

Our youngest brother and future alpha has been working hard at my father’s side. I can’t imagine what it must be like to know that once our father is gone, Wulfric will be responsible for the pack’s future. It pleases me to see him smiling with our aunt Helga, flagons of mead in their hands.

Fortunately, Father won’t be called to Valhalla for many years to come. Wulfric has time to learn.

“It all looks delicious. Congratulations, Lyall. You and Soren are a perfect match. The Norns chose well when they brought you together.” Lyall sighs, long and wistful, as he looks across the room at Soren, who is offering his sweet to a little girl.

“Aye, that they did. He’s everything I’ll ever want.

I can’t wait to give a child like your sweet Bjorn a home with us. ”

The minstrels play a bouncy tune as Soren waves his mate over for a dance.

I clap him on the back. “Go and have fun.”

Lyall dashes off and breaks into a dance with Soren, sweeping him close.

I take the food outside and find Leif sitting on a bench, patting Bjorn’s back. The little lad belches, and Leif winces. “Ugh. I think he spit up on my shirt.”

Setting the pies down on the bench, I retrieve a rag from my belt. I blot at the mess on Leif’s back, and once he’s as clean as he can get, I take our son and cradle him to my chest. “He makes fine artwork on your shirt.”

Leif snorts. “Aye, he’s very talented.” He hands me a pie, then takes one for himself. I sway Bjorn side to side with the music drifting out into the streets. Leif leans into my shoulder. “You know what I remember most about our wedding day?”

“What?”

He takes my hand in his, his smile soft and sweet. “How excited I was to spend the rest of my days with you. My mother was worried because fate had no hand in our union. She worried you would meet your fated mate and stray.”

It’s true that our mating is unconventional.

Many ulfhednar choose to wait until they find the one fated for them by the Norns, but life is short and uncertain, and many die before they can meet their mate, or if they’re from an alpha bloodline, they go berserk and lose themselves to their wolves.

I did not want to wait. I wanted a family, and I wanted someone to come home to.

I’ve heard that in human settlements, marrying someone of the same sex is forbidden.

A human man must wed a human woman and carry on a strong bloodline.

Among ulfhednar, chosen or fated mates are sacred, regardless of whether they are male or female.

Besides, there are plenty of children in need of a loving family.

Bloodlines are less important than ensuring vulnerable children are cared for.

I rest my cheek against his hair. “Never. Even if I were to meet them tomorrow, I would still choose you and our son. Always.”

“I love you, Gunnar.”

I turn to press a kiss to his lips. “And I you.”

Bjorn squawks between us, making us laugh.

“Yes, little one, we love you very much, too!” Leif says, kissing our son’s head.

I cannot wait to see the kind of man our son grows up to be. Surely he will be as strong and just as my Leif, and I will ensure he grows into a worthy hunter.

I have truly been blessed by the gods themselves.

“Gunnar, Gunnar, wake up!”

Leif’s panicked voice wakes me sometime in the night. “What? The baby?” I’ve already got a foot out of bed, ready to rush to Bjorn’s crib.

Leif grabs my shoulders. “Wait. Listen!”

I stand still, listening. Beyond the walls of our cabin, owls call out, and the wind whistles around the edges of our home. Then the howling of wolves shatters the stillness of the night.

The pack bonds in my chest flood with panic, confusion, and pain, making me double over with a gasp.

“Help. Help us, please!” Lyall’s terrified voice fills my mind.

“They’re in the village!” Helga cries.

“Has anyone seen Anders?” Wulfric asks.

“To arms, all of you! Hunters!” Father roars.

“Hunters?” Leif gasps, his face going milk-white. “But how could they have found our village?”

I know without a second thought. Missionaries had come to our shores, offering chests of gold if we forsook Fenrir and worshipped their Christian God.

Father had refused, and they’d gone away without any trouble.

But one of them, their leader Thorald, had made my skin crawl.

For a peaceful man of the cloth, it had seemed unusual for him to bear such a hideous scar on his face.

It’s him, it has to be. They were no men of God at all, but hunters.

Why would they attack us? We’ve always kept to ourselves, never troubling the human settlements nearby.

I’ve got to find my family and make sure they’re safe. Lurching out of bed, I grab my axe and shield.

“Gunnar, please!” Leif grabs my arm, his hand shaking. “Bjorn needs you!”

My throat tightens. “Should anything happen to me, my family will help care for him.”

Leif chokes out a sob. “I wish I could go with you.”

Turning, I grip his shoulders. “Stay. Protect our son. I will come back for you.” I pull him in, claiming his trembling lips, then press a quick kiss to Bjorn’s forehead.

I throw on my chain mail and a helmet. Fighting while shifted is too risky.

It will be safer to block their silver arrows with my shield.

I throw open the door just as a whistling sound cuts through the air and an arrow slams into the doorframe.

I duck back inside. The stink of silver makes my nose burn.

Shouts fill the woods around our home, boots crash through the undergrowth, and dark shapes materialize through the trees. Gods, how many are there?

I slam the door and bolt it. “Barricade the door. Stay away from the windows!”

These bastards would turn our sanctuary into a prison! Should they dare enter, I will rip the flesh from their bones.

Before I can reach for a chair, something smashes into the door. Bjorn cries in terror, and I push Leif behind me as I hold my shield up. Leif hides Bjorn beneath the bed and grabs his sword. There’s no way out. Our only choice is to fight or die.

“I’m with you,” Leif says and takes my hand. His eyes are bright with fear, but he holds on tight. “For better or for worse, just like we promised.”

I lean down and claim his lips, savoring his sweet taste and the warmth of his body. “Leif, I—”

With a crash, the door bursts open. I throw up my shield in time to block a silver arrow, the impact making my bones ache.

I charge, ramming into a hunter as I swing my axe low, slicing across his knees.

He falls, and Leif drives his sword through his chest. Two more of them rush me so I can’t get to Leif, not when he’s tackled to the floor.

I push back against my attackers, unable to do anything except listen to Leif struggle.

Pain throbs in my chest as if I’ve been stabbed. Agony shreds the bond connecting me to Leif. No. No! He’ll be fine. He’s hurt. Only hurt. I’ll fight these bastards off and get him to a healer, but I’ve got to hurry!

An axe comes down on my shield with such force that the bones in my arm crack. A sword sinks into my shoulder. The burn of silver is so intense, it feels as if my arm is on fire. My body betrays me, collapsing onto the ground, immobilized with pain when all I want to do is fight.

I blink away the sting of salt and tears and can barely breathe when I spot Leif lying a few feet away. Blood trickles from his mouth, and his eyes are clouded. “Leif,” I croak, trying to make my body move, to reach for him.

In the sudden silence, Bjorn’s terrified cry is far too loud. One of the hunters walks over me, going for the bed.

“No. Leave him! He’s just a baby. I’m the one you want. Kill me!” I cry.

“Silence, beast!” A boot slams into the side of my face, making white light explode before my eyes. A tooth falls onto my tongue, blood coppery in my mouth.

Bjorn cries louder, and dread rakes its claws into my chest.

“Sir?” The hunter sounds uncertain. “He’s so little. What threat could this one pose?”

The hunter standing over me sneers. “Our orders were clear. Kill them all.”

“Y-yes, sir.” Metal screeches against metal, and my blood turns to ice.

I beg them, screaming for mercy for my child until my throat is raw. The tiny thread that is Bjorn’s bond snaps in two, the pain like an axe caving my ribs.

It doesn’t mean anything. He isn’t gone. I can still save him. If I can just get up—

Above me, the hunter raises his sword over my body.

Howls rend the sky beyond the cabin. The hunters shout in alarm, drawing weapons as they race from the cabin. Screams of pain and terror clash with the snarling of wolves, and then… all is silent.

Sucking in a gasp of air, I call out, “In here!”

My aunt Helga’s gray wolf bursts into the cabin, her snout caked in blood, strings of flesh stuck in her teeth. The fur recedes, revealing her pale face and wide, horrified eyes. “Oh my darling.” She kneels, lifting me into a sitting position.

I shake my head. “Leif. The baby. Help them. Please, you must help them.”

She wipes blood from my cheek. “They’re being taken care of, lad.”

My head rolls to the side, my heart all but stopping at the sight of Leif’s hooded eyes. His chest is barely rising. The silver is blocking his ability to heal.

“Leif,” I croak, reaching for him. Helga scoots closer, gently lowering me to the ground. She takes his hand and mine, placing them on top of each other. “Open your eyes. Talk to me. Please.” Tears burn my eyes as I wait for his response.

Leif’s eyelids flutter. “Gun… nar… our son, is he…”

Bjorn is silent. I can’t feel his bond, so small but always so bright and warm.

I squeeze his fingers as much as I can with the pain throbbing through my body. “Asleep. He’ll be fine. And so will you.”

Leif laughs, or tries to. Blood dribbles from his lips. “The Valkyries. They come. Can you… hear their wings?”

My breath hitches. “Leif—”

“Live, Gunnar. Don’t f-forget me. Find me… in Valhalla.” Leif’s mouth twitches into a smile, lips red with blood.

His frayed bond snaps, and my world grows dark and cold.

Live, he said.

How am I supposed to live when all my hopes and dreams for a future are dead?

I know in that moment that though my mortal body may live, the man I once was is gone. I will never forget Leif or our son.

There will never be another like him. I will take no other mate, care for no other children.

I will live and die alone.

It’s a vow I will keep until I depart this wretched world and join my mate in Valhalla.