Her Viking Wolves(102)

“If not him. Then who? Because you’ve always got to win, right? Just like him. At any cost? Even my pride? You won’t stop punishing me until I’m either dead or completely vanquished, simpering at your dick like all the other weak she-wolves you fucked before I came along with my kingdom-saving steel.”

Olafr comes over and takes my arm, interceding like a ref in an MMA fight that’s gone too far.

“Varra, I understand little of what you say, but I know you accuse my brother of things that are not true. He is right. You should still your tongue before—”

“Fuck you!” I say, shoving him away from me. “You would have let him burn me. Because neither of you give two fucks about me or my feelings!!”

I turn my blazing eyes back to FJ, for once totally in touch with the violent anger that defines my pack. “You’re just like my father. You’re a user, FJ. You came here to use me. And that’s all you’ll ever be. A user just like my father.”

“I. AM. NOTHING. LIKE. YOUR. FATHER!” FJ roars, his eyes glowing bright in the dimly lit room. “Do you think I wished to keep secrets from you? So many things I promised. For you. Only for you. Every deed I have done in this land. Every contract I have made. Every promise I have given has been for YOU, Female. And for naught but you.”

“No, for yourself!!” I scream back at him. “So you can win!”

Suddenly FJ grabs me around the back of the neck, pulling me into a kiss so violent, it feels like his lips are devouring mine. I want to push him away. My hands actually land on his chest, preparing to push him away.

But my fucking wolf…

With a moan, I succumb, my arms coming around his neck as I cling to him, pressing my body into his. Desperate for his kiss, even as I sob against his mouth.

“I thought you actually wanted me, without wanting anything from me. I should have kept it all business like you. I never should have let myself fall for your act.”

“Female,” FJ groans against my lips, the hand on the back of my neck tightening and loosening, like he’s trying to conquer me and push me away at the same time.

But his next words don’t come out of his mouth. Instead they appear inside my head, low and barely contained. “Our land has been beset by monstrous serpents, Female. Our family, our people, our minds, everything we have known before you, we now stand to lose. Yet all we have thought about since the time of our mating is you and the babe you carry within.”

His hand tightens on the back of my neck. “Do you not think I could have simply bought what we needed from your pack without becoming your fenrir? Do you not think that would have been the best choice? But I did what I must, promised what I must, so you could be protected.”

He shakes his head at me, his eyes bitter. “I did not use you in any of this. I have only sought to keep you safe from those who would do you harm. And I did this, despite the fact you did run from our vows. Despite the fact you would give our babe the name of another fenrir. And you think me like your father!?”

FJ grabs my hand tight and brings it to his beard, covering it with his own as he says out loud, “Everything I do in this time is for you, Varra. Because you are ours.”

He looks from me to Olafr then back to me again. “Because we love you, Varra, more than ourselves. More than our people. More than…anything on this Earth or beyond. We would do anything, including submit to the ways of your people, to keep you protected and safe from harm. You must be safe in this place. You must never be made to run again. I cannot live—I cannot do what must be done if you are not safe. That is why. That is the only reason why. Because we love you above all else, Varra.”#p#分页标题#e#

“FJ,” I whisper, beginning to understand. Beginning to understand I’m not the only one who feels like a fool for falling too fast for someone who you’re not sure gives one fuck about you. Not the only one scared of the power my fated mate holds over me. Olafr might be a wolf in human form, but FJ and I are the two most frightened animals in the room.

And then it’s not him forcing me to touch him, it’s me stroking my hand over his beard. Me taking his wild hair out of the smooth man bun and running my other hand through its curly mass. Because I want to touch him. Because I have to touch him.

Then it’s me bringing my lips to softly meet his.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him. Me making the concession my pride wouldn’t allow me to make before. Not because of his punishment or his threats, but because of his love. Because I now understand how badly I hurt him. “I’m sorry.”