I can hear laughter in his voice as he answers, “Nay, I’ve never been told that, Varra. Though my brother does sometimes complain that I would the village skald become if others knew my voice true.”
“Your brother who you talk to. Inside your heads. Just like we’re talking now?”
“Yea, it has it always been thus. I cannot remember a time when I could not hear his thoughts. Perhaps it explains…”
He doesn’t finish that thought but he doesn’t have to. I, too, am thinking about this Brother Bond they keep referring to big time now. And my mind starts racing with so many questions, I want to find Alisha. I need to know if there were any other historical references to a bond that allowed two males to hear each other’s thoughts just as easily as if they were mates.
But I’m knotted with FJ and Alisha—well, judging from all the running and desperate voices I heard earlier, it’s a pretty safe bet she’s otherwise engaged at the moment.
“I know you have a curious mind, Varra,” Olafr says, as if reading my thoughts. Which, let’s face it, he just might be. “But you should put aside your many questions and rest.”
He bends down next to the bed, and I can see that his gray eyes are glowing, which means his wolf is close to the surface.
I brace myself for another claiming kiss, but he only takes my hand, running my open palm over his long red dreadlocks with a soft smile. “You, too, will need your strength for what is to come.”#p#分页标题#e#
His words feel like a solemn promise, ringing out in the charged air between us. Then he gently gives me my hand back and moves away.
A moment later, I feel the weight of a blanket settle over me and FJ. Then Olafr crouches down beside the bed. This time he puts one large hand on my head, stroking my white yarn locs as I look into his glowing gray eyes.
While I lie on top of his brother.
Have I mentioned how weird this is yet? Because it totally, totally is.
Totally weird, I think with a yawn, as I nestle my cheek into FJ’s leaner chest.
“Verily, am I glad you want me still in the way of mates, Varra,” Olafr says. “Especially after what did pass between us before. I had thought not to be with you again for a long time yet.”
“No worries,” I answer weakly, not quite knowing what to do with the heavily-accented Shakespeare character who’s appeared where a friendly red wolf used to be.
But his voice comes back, filled with remorse. “I wish I could make true penance. Allow only my brother to mate you and wait until your next heat. Yet, I know my human would not allow it.”
“Don’t you mean your wolf?” I ask with another yawn. Olafr was right about the whole sleep thing. Despite my recent twenty-four hour nap, I can feel a new kind of fatigue dragging me down into its inky depths.
Also, Olafr is still stroking my hair, which doesn’t make staying awake any easier. “No, Varra, I mean my human.”
“But that doesn’t make sense,” I say through a thick, gauzy haze. “I’m talking to your human right now and he seems perfectly fine.”
“No, Varra…” Olafr says, his amused gray eyes warmly glowing into mine.
“No, your human isn’t perfectly fine?” I ask, not understanding.
“No, he’s not. He’s hard for me to control. Too hard, I fear. And no, you are not talking to him.”
My heart stills, sleep suddenly shoved back a few steps. “Uh, then who am I talking to?” I ask carefully.
“My wolf,” Olafr answers simply. “I’m not even certain my human knows how to speak. This is why I did make myself wolf once again the night we met. My human is but a dumb beast. One I fear I cannot control.”
Wait…what?!?! I’m talking to his wolf and not his human? And his wolf is afraid of his human?
This makes no sense, and I have to wonder if Olafr is mistaken. But sleep has had it with waiting around for me and finally overtakes me before I can ask any more questions.
27
I wake up alone in a large bed. But not the large bed I fell asleep in. Sitting up, I groggily look around, and immediately recognize my new surroundings, even though I’ve never been in this particular room before.
It’s the other third-floor guestroom. Not the one Tu and her husband occupy, but the one Uncle Tikaani gave to FJ. I know this not only because the entire room smells like him—a unique scent of forest and ash—but also because of the wickedly large sword casually leaning against a built-in cedar desk.
I get out of bed and walk over to it, feeling a deep sense of awe and appreciation for its ruthless beauty. I’m not going to lie, I immediately begin to memorize every detail for Viking Shifters 2: the intricate two-toned inlay on the hilt, the pattern welded double-edged blade covered on both sides with delicate whorls of scrollwork. I reach out a finger to touch the shiny surface, and then recall what Alisha told me about the silver-dipped swords Viking werewolf kings used when she helped me with a few developmental phase research questions for Viking Shifters.#p#分页标题#e#