Her Viking Wolves(99)

“Brother, you are her fenrir, but she will not forgive you for this. And I cannot make her understand why you do it…” Proving himself a wolf of great will, his brother once more breaks through his mind’s wall.

Olafr is right about one thing. He is her fenrir. And this everyone must know.

“It must be done,” FJ’s answers.

No answer.

And FJ adds, “If you think yourself incapable of controlling your human, then you should leave.”

Again, no answer, but FJ watches his brother look away from the scene, doing what it will take to stay by their mate’s side and keep himself at bay.

And FJ continues forward…only to stop when their she-wolf gives sudden move.

To run, he thinks at first, but no. She adjusts her dress and then spreads herself out, stomach down, upon the black ground. Head turned to the right and arms down at her sides, so her left shoulder is made a smooth canvas. Ready to receive his mark.

The chanting comes to sudden stop. Replaced by one voice. It is the now past Detroit fenrir singing a deep and resonant song. FJ knows not this song, but it seems to his ears both spiritual and old. Yes, the words are not as old as his time, but he can tell it is still old. Like the ones his mother did occasionally sing when he was a child, the ones she said were from a time when her people were held in captivity for countless winters.

And soon do the rest of the Detroit wolves join into the song, their voices rising as one. FJ senses that this, too, is part of the ceremony, and he remains still, knowing without having to be told that the mark should not be given before the old song is done.

“You should have told me.”

His queen’s voice appears inside his head, flat as the boards beneath his feet.

He answers her only because he wants her to understand it is she, not he, who is responsible for her current circumstance.

“You have proven hard to tame, Female. I did not wish to deal again with your interference. For this reason I told you not of our plan.”

“No, not about your plan to claim the Detroit throne. About you…” Now does her flat voice become sad. “You shouldn’t have pretended to be nice. I actually thought you were kind. Warm, a wolf worth loving. But you’re just like my father.”

Her words hit him like a slap and FJ’s hand goes tight around the branding iron. “Your defiance has already brought enough trouble upon you, Female. Now it would seem you wish to invite further punishment.”

“You’re right, you’re not completely like my father. Every once in a while, he gives me a choice. And I never did have a choice when it came to you, did I?”#p#分页标题#e#

She is still so defiant. Despite what she did. Despite the claim he gave her body in front of his people.

His wolf very nearly overtakes him again. And he has to grip the brand tight to keep himself from grabbing her by the hair and once again giving her claim in front of her people. Once again forcing her body to submit where her mind will not.

“We are your fated mates,” he snarls into her mind. “Yet did you fight our bond at every turn. And then did you run, seeking to give another our claim. You are the one who forced my hand. You are the one who brought this upon yourself. I am an outsider, who is to be the new fenrir of your people. You do not understand the way of fenrirs, but when a people are not raised to accept you, you must show them your worth from the beginning.”

“Sure, that’s perfectly understandable,” she answers. “Thanks for explaining that to me.”

Her tone is light and agreeable now. However, FJ can tell these are not true words.

“I do not wish for you to use the false tongue with me, Female. I will have your respect along with that of your people.”

“Oh, you have my respect all right,” she says. “I mean how could any she-wolf not respect someone who would fuck her in front of a room full of people so he could prove his might and then brand her? You’re a total Viking dreamboat come to life. So tell me, Viking Prince Charming, what are you getting in exchange for all of this romantic stuff you’ve been doing for me?”

And suddenly does the air in the room become cold, despite the burning iron held in his hand.

The deal he made with the former Detroit king is necessary. He knows this. Not only for the coming battle he must fight, but also for the protection of the defiant she-wolf lying upon the black boards at his feet.

However, their female’s words do make him feel some manner of guilt for unknown reasons.

And in this moment does the Detroit wolves’ singing end. The pack going silent as the old song fades into the shadows, like a ghost taking its leave.