Chapter 79
Vali’s attention never strayed from his bride for long, her royal air in full force as she drank demurely from her glass of sparkling wine. Her straightened spine was inches away from resting against the back of her chair.
That could not be comfortable.
The first time he saw her that day, walking towards her at their ceremony, he wanted to run. To her.
Before their Dreamroot trial, he was so scared of failing. He had this overwhelming feeling of heartache at the thought of losing her. When their vows were complete and their souls joined, he almost couldn’t control himself, so entranced was he by her.
The feeling was strange, as he’d never thought of her in that way before. He and North had been in and out of each other’s lives for centuries. She was beautiful, of course, but walking down that aisle, knowing she was about to be his . . . It changed something.
It had taken every ounce of his self-control not to whisk her away then and, again now at this very moment, to his bedchamber.
Though they hadn’t discussed it, it was customary for a wedded couple to consummate their marriage, paying homage to the gods that blessed their union. Freyja herself would roll in her grave if a couple did not fulfill their most basic instincts to join physically with one another.
As if North could hear his thoughts, all her queenly disposition fell away under his eyes.
He saw the female there, strong and vulnerable, capable and in need. Of course, he could also see what others saw—the cold queen, formal, just, but unwavering in her convictions.
She was more than that. He understood the facade of the crown better than anyone—he bore it as well. The weight of his own crown now heavy on his brow.
The rest of the evening went by in a blur, from toasts at the supper, the delicious food, and his brothers dancing with his new bride, to finally being able to hold her himself.
Vali didn’t take it personally that she was rigid in his arms, keeping a respectable distance and unable to hold his gaze.
She bowed gracefully to their guests, and when they paraded into the streets to greet his—their—people, she waved and threw petals and flowers with her magic to the elflings who had come to celebrate them.
He caught her small smile as she interacted with the little ones, the only emotion she’d shown since their ceremony.
As he knew she would, she abided the festivities like a queen, and when he closed the door to his chamber, shutting out the world, she stood gracefully with her hands clasped together, looking out the window.
His steps were silent as he took his place beside her, hands firmly in his pockets. He dug his fingers into his thighs so he wouldn’t reach out.
Though his instincts were to claim his wife, his other senses kept him from acting on his baser needs.
“Do you think they were there?” she asked quietly, her eyes sad. He didn’t need a bond to know who she meant.
“I don’t know. I would hope that my mother and father were able to watch from Valhalla above.”
He didn’t say anything about her parents, as they were likely in Hel. There was no interaction between the living and the souls that were banished there, no way for the souls to keep an eye on the living.
She took a deep breath like she was attempting to dispel the sadness that enveloped her, turning to him.
“Did you enjoy yourself today?”
Vali cleared his throat. “I did. And you?”
“Yes, it was lovely.”
Silence fell between them, the darkness of the night becoming tense and stiff.
“Henny really seemed to enjoy the ale,” he said, trying to ease out of the formality they’d fallen into.
North laughed lightly and Vali’s shoulders relaxed at the sound. “That he did. I wasn’t sure who would win their competition, him or Bo.”
Vali chuckled, shaking his head at his youngest brothers. “Don’t tell him I said this, but I believe Bo will win.”
“And why is that?”
“He’s more likely to resort to swords in the likelihood that they bed the same number of people tonight.”
As if remembering herself, she unbuckled the sword at her hip. His sword. She held it out for him to take, but he made no move for it.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“Your sword,” she said like it was obvious, and he tried not to smile at the condescension in her tone. She was an eldest sister, after all.
“It was my sword. I gave it to you.”
“Only because of tradition. I do not want to take it from you.”
Vali’s heart fluttered as she pushed the sword towards him, bringing her close enough for him to smell the floral scent that was her. He backed away, hoping she would follow.
“You cannot take what is freely given.”
“Why will you not take it?” she asked, frustration cinching her brow. He found the expression maddening, never having seen it directed at him before.
“Because it is yours.”
“This is an arranged marriage, Vali, I do not expect the same as I would in a love bond.” Her voice broke on the last word.
Without thinking, he sprang into action, taking the sword. Relief and something else he couldn’t name flashed across her face. Disappointment? That didn’t make sense. Vali placed it on the desk beside them.
He took her hands in his and kept silent until she was forced to look at him. Her green eyes twinkled in the evening light, and he ached to lick away the tear that slid down her cheek. The runes that shimmered on his forearm tingled, as if reminding him of the promises he’d made.
As if he could forget.
“Arranged or not, you are my wife, North Stjarna Erikdottir. My vows were true. My heart and sword are now yours to do with as you please.” He lifted her chin with his finger as she turned away from him. “Except give them back to me.”
“Vali—”
“North.”
He pushed as much sincerity into his eyes as he could, hoping she would be able to see what he couldn’t yet say. What he didn’t yet know. When he saw the same vulnerability finally soften her, he relaxed.
Her pulse throbbed as he slid his hand from her chin, fingertips tracing the slender line of her neck, his canines aching. Like he was compelled by an ancient magic, his fingers continued downward, grazing the creamy skin at her collarbones before removing his touch.
He parted his mouth, and his tongue dragged over the sharp points to try to ease the urge. It was fascinating the way her eyes flicked down to follow the movement.
Her eyes were full of lust only for a moment before uncertainty took its place. He couldn’t have that.
“North,” he said softly, entreating her to speak with him. He wanted to know every thought she had.
She cleared her throat. “I haven’t . . . I mean, it has been a while since I’ve been with anyone,” she said, nervous energy emanating from her as she shifted on her feet. Her vulnerability touched his heart.
She must not have realized that he’d opened his mouth to speak, because she kept going.
“And I might not be what you’re used to with other females. I’m not—that’s to say, I don’t really know how to . . .” She struggled for words. He didn’t quite know where she was going, but it was sweet, endearing even, to see her ramble.
Like she’d come to her senses, she straightened her back and looked at him with the full force of her strength. “I need to apologize.”
The drastic change knocked him off kilter. “Why?”
“As I am Fae you may have certain expectations, but I must tell you that sex”—she stumbled over the word for only a moment—“is not something I have much experience with, or even what seems to be the usual desires, if others are to be believed.”
Vali took a moment to process what she was trying to say. Then it clicked. He tried to keep the smile off his face until the words really settled. Someone, or someones, had made her feel inferior?
Not his queen.
He took a step towards her, their bodies nearly flush. The heat of her burned his hands, even through her clothing, as he rested them on her waist. “Are you worried I will be let down in some way?”
The determination to keep her dignity was still there. “Yes, I’d like you to have realistic expectations for our marital bed.”
Damn this formality.
“First, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” he assured, moving his hands, sliding them up her back before removing his touch, not wanting to override her wishes.
His cock abhorred the gesture.
“We don’t?” she asked, arching a skeptical brow.
“Not at all,” he said, taking a step back. “The goddesses will be offended and will probably smite us, but that’s no matter.” He shrugged and tried to keep the serious look on his face.
His teasing seemed to ease some of the stiffness in her back, and her shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Oh, just the anger of the gods, nothing to worry about then,” she replied.
He shrugged again. “They’re dead, what can they do?”
“More than you think,” she said, raising both brows this time.
Intriguing.
“Then perhaps we shouldn’t anger them, in case they still have the power to smite.” This, he could do—the light flirting, easy charm. If that’s what put her at ease.
“Does that work with all your partners? Threatening the smiting of the gods?” she asked, taking a step towards him. He stood perfectly still, not wanting to alarm her.
“I’ve never been married before, so I can’t say for certain. If it works with you then I’ll have to see if it works with my next wife as well.”
She punched him. Hard.
His jaw snapped to the side and her hands flew to her mouth, he assumed in horror until he saw the teasing in her eyes.
“I am so sorry!” she exclaimed. “I don’t know where that came from.”
Vali rubbed his jaw, his tongue flicking out to catch a bead of blood before it trailed down his chin.
“I’d say it came from the part of you that doesn’t want to share.” He prowled towards her, her possessiveness fuelling his lust. There was hope for them yet. It took everything in him not to close more distance between them.
“What was the second thing?” she asked.
He jolted at the swift change. “What?”
“You said ‘first’ before. Is there a second?” If he wasn’t mistaken, her breathing had quickened.
“Second,” Vali said, “I cannot, for a moment, believe that you will not be pleased, nor that you cannot please me.” Trying to keep the anger out of his voice was futile. “You know how I know that?”
“How?” she whispered.
“Because passion”—her eyes flared at the word—“comes in many forms.” He rubbed his jaw again with a smile. “And that display came from the Elven part deep inside your blood that screams at anything threatening to take what’s yours. And I am yours, my Queen.”
“Are you?”
“Yes,” he vowed.
“Then show me,” she whispered, her eyes darkening.
It was his turn to raise his eyebrows.
At his hesitation, she paused her approach. “Unless you do not want to.” There it was—the insecurity he would do everything in his power to vanquish so it would never see the light of day again. Or the dark of night.
“Oh, I very much want to,” he said, his voice unintentionally predatory.
“Then show me, husband,” she ordered in the voice that marked her as queen.