Her Viking Wolves(51)

FJ pauses for a long moment on the other side of the door before saying, “I am the one who is confused now, Varra. My brother is a male wolf. There is no one but he to blame for this loss of control.”

I shake my head in the dark closet, the hot shame and the burning need ripping me apart with their opposite tugs.

“That’s because you’re from a different era, a time when they still blamed disabled wolves for things outside their control. But I know better. And I knew he was wolf-bound. I never should have…”

I can’t finish the sentence and I begin crying again.

“I do not understand much of what you say, but Varra, please do not cry. I cannot bear to hear this. The sound gives me great need to hurt my brother as he has hurt you. To collect my sword from my room and kill him for bringing these tears to your eyes.”

“It’s not his fault!” I nearly scream from my side of the door. It’s seriously hard for me to understand how FJ can continue to blame his brother for losing control, when it’s obvious the poor guy is simply not capable of having the same kind of control as a normal wolf.

“You know he’s wolf-bound. In this day and age, we don’t expect wolf-bound wolves to have much self-control. In fact, decent people make sure to keep them somewhere safe so they don’t hurt themselves or others. But I let his friendly nature go to my head. I didn’t think.” I stop for moment to wipe my eyes again. “Can you please just go get Uncle Tikaani and have him lock Olafr in the cage room at the bottom of the house so I don’t hurt him again?”

Another pause, and again FJ comes back with, “I still do not understand. You would have my brother locked away because you are afraid you might hurt him, and because he is—this word, you have used it a number of times, but I know not the meaning—wolf-bound?”

Of course, he wouldn’t know. Back in his day, they probably called it something else, like ‘simple’ or ‘touched in the head’ or whatever the Old Norse equivalent of mentally retarded was. So I try again.

“It’s like when a wolf can’t turn back into his human because he doesn’t have enough brain power.”

“Brain…this is another word I do not know.”

Okay, okay… I can barely think straight, the heat’s riding me so hard, but now I’m have to gather enough mind strength to explain, “Um, your brain is where your thoughts come from. And some wolves are born with brains that do not have clear thoughts. The brain is broken. This is wolf-bound.”#p#分页标题#e#

“Litthyggiandi? You think he is litthyggiandi?” FJ sounds so incredulous, I’m not sure he understands my meaning.

“I don’t know. What does litthyggiandi mean?” I ask.

The answer comes not from FJ, but from a deep, outraged voice inside my head. “You think me weak of mind? Why do you insult me in this fashion?”

Okay, I know mated wolves can communicate via ESP. I’d seen other mates do it plenty during my time in Alaska. Especially Tu and her deaf husband, Grady.

But even though I know what’s going on here, I just about fall out of the closet when Olafr’s voice pops into my head, still thickly accented, but nowhere near as slow as before. And he’s speaking English!

“Olafr? Is that you?” I ask, tentatively pushing back. Because I’m worried—like, seriously worried, that the heat has sent me over the deep end.

“Yes,” he answers. “Of course it is me! Who else save your mate could be inside your head?”





25





“But…I don’t understand. How are you talking to me like this? I mean, I know how the mate-bond works but…” Her voice trails off, soft with disbelief, but clear as a bell inside Olafr’s head as if it’s been there all along.

Yet his joy upon hearing her is largely overshadowed by her accusation.

“Do you question how you understand my words because we speak a different tongue? Or do you question how I can speak to you because you think me weak of mind?”

“Um, both, actually,” comes her tentative response.

Their female, Olafr realizes and not for the first time, seems to have little skill at forming her thoughts into words that do not offend.

“I am not certain,” he answers, pushing more words into her head. “I do not know much of the ways of humans, but I believe our mate-bond must be a…” he stops, struggling for the words “…bridge between our tongues. When my parents were in conversation, they would oft begin speaking aloud and then switch to the silent talk of mates.”