Her Viking Wolves: 50 Loving States, Michigan (10 page)

“
Y
ou must talk to her
.”
Olafr’s wolf tells him.

They are on this village’s main thoroughfare now, headed toward the high house that sits at the end of it. This village, though different, reminds him much of his own. They seem to use nature in a similar way of defense, with a large lake blocking direct access on one side of the village and mountains on the other.

However, even this well-positioned kingdom would find itself defenseless against such as the flying serpents that set themselves upon his kingdom town.

“I know,”
FJ answers his brother, grimly eyeing their she-wolf’s back.

They walk on opposite sides of her, FJ at her back, Olafr at her front. They are surrounded by worthy kings who have also positioned themselves in a similar manner. King Rafe and his father-in-law leading the group at the front, and Fenrirs Grady and Mag having positioned themselves at the back. Their she-wolf’s kin obviously gives her protection aplenty. But he and Olafr remain close on either side of her, their need to safeguard her in this manner outweighing all logic. So keen is their mate bond already, FJ feels his long subdued wolf give rise at just the thought of anything our anyone hurting her.

Yet does she walk between them, looking neither forward or back. As if she has already forgotten the presence of both her fated mates.

“She must be made to understand and return with us,”
Olafr says over the bond, as if reading his emotions.
“I barely took control of myself before…”

“I understand you well, Brother,”
FJ answers, not wanting to think of that. Of the tug of his wolf when he ran after them, afeared that Olafr might hurt their mate. Two times in one night had his wolf tried to possess him. He could only shudder at the thought of what would have happened if his beloved brother had not managed to take hold of himself and return to his wolf form, so as not to hurt her.

“I don’t get it.” The one called Tu, who is walking between their mate and the sister called Janelle, says interrupting his agitated thoughts. “Which hot Viking beardie thinks he’s Tee’s mate?”

FJ watches their mate’s back stiffen as Aunt Alisha, who walks just ahead of their she-wolf, answers Tu in her stead. “Apparently they both used a fated mate spell to buy some time during a battle. And now, they both want to claim Tee.”

“So they’re like planning to fight for her, even though they’re brothers?” Tu asks.

“No,” Alisha answers. “They, um, want to claim her. Together.”

The one called Janelle lets out a breath-filled, “Oh!”

However, Tu shoves their she-wolf’s shoulder with hers, saying, “Go’on with your bad self! And I thought you standing up to your dad was hardcore. This is like some epic MFM action you got going on, Tee!”

“No, no, it’s not.” Their she-wolf, the one they call Tee, turns her head to glance at Tu before quickly looking down to the snow. “Because I’m not getting claimed by either of them. That’s so not happening.”

“Uh, you weren’t saying ‘that’s so not happening’ when you were getting your pet on with Olafr,” Tu says, nodding toward the large red wolf loping in front of their she-wolf, his great head swinging from left to right as he scans the road for anything that might cause her harm.

“That was…a misunderstanding,” their she-wolf insists. “A really weird misunderstanding. And it doesn’t change anything.”

“You are right,” FJ answers. So great is his need to make certain she understands their intentions, he gives up his post behind her in order to walk beside her.

He takes a moment to admire her bountiful curves, sweet face, and long roped hair, before continuing on with, “It changes nothing. You are still our she-wolf,
Varra
, as fated by the gods.”

Upon hearing this, their mate crosses her arms over her generous chest and looks down at her feet before saying, “Okay, I know you’re from a different time period or whatever, but fated mates aren’t that big of a deal here. And if a she-wolf doesn’t want a wolf, it’s not like back in the day. She doesn’t have to accept his claim.”

Her voice takes on great edge as she says these words to him, leading FJ to wonder out loud, “Has this circumstance come to pass before,
Varra
? A wolf would claim you, but you did reject his claim?”

The entire group seems to become more quiet then. And though no eyes turn directly to their mate, he has the same feeling as he would if they’d all turned to regard her.

Yet does their she-wolf continue to stare at her strangely booted feet as she answers, “Kind of. Sort of. It’s a long, strange story—almost as long and strange as this one.”

She is odd indeed, their she-wolf. Forceful in her replies, yet refusing to give him even the smallest of glances as she answers.

But FJ persists. “If this be your tale, I would hear it. And if there be a wolf who would also claim you as his, I would know his name so my brother and I might find him and kill him for daring to claim what is ours.”

“
So hardcore
,” Tu says on the other side of their she-wolf. “It’s like watching a movie! Except it’s not a movie. It’s happening right now—to Tee!”

Their mate looks to the sky, seeming to give strange prayer to the gods as she mutters, “Shut up, Tu.”

“Just keeping it real,” Tu replies, seemingly unoffended by her cousin’s command. “This is better than, like, ninety percent of the shows Grady and I watch on TV.”

Ignoring the small she-wolf, FJ asks Tee, “Is it our beards that give you reason to reject our claim?”

“What?” The she-wolf’s confusion causes her to finally give him glance, albeit only for the smallest moment.

“My mother does not care for my father’s beard, and for her does he go without it. This is a story well known throughout our land.”

“Yeah, I heard about that, too,” she says, once again aiming her words at the snow-covered ground they walk upon, as if she is conversing with it and not him.

“Would you have us cut our beards so you might accept our claim?”

“W-what? No! That’s crazy!” she says. “I wouldn’t ask you to change anything for me.”

“Plus, you two are working them beards,” Tu adds. “You and your brother are straight up fine.”

And once again their mate raises her full head to the dark sky as if in supplication. “Shut
up
, Tu!”

“I’m just saying!’

“Do you think the same as Queen Tu?” FJ asks her.

Now the she-wolf truly makes a study of the ground. Then the sky. The collection of buildings on the side of the road. The many houses tucked into the mountain. The lake. Before finally muttering, “Yeah, obviously both of you are very fine.”

“’Fine,’ I do not know this word,” FJ admits.

“Handsome. Cute. Hot. Really good-looking. But that doesn’t really matter, because—”

“It pleases me much that your eyes like us as much as our eyes like you.”

“Day-umm! This brother got game,” Tu says from her place on the other side of their she-wolf.

This time, their mate does not cast her eyes skyward, but gives her cousin a dangerous glance, sharp as his mother’s cutting dagger.

But soon after that, she drops her eyes back to the ground, giving it great attention as she says, “Look, I know you guys think you have to make this thing happen with me, but I am not like your mom. I don’t cook from scratch. Man, I don’t cook at all! Like, if it requires more than a microwave, it’s not happening. And I have zero survival skills outside of a video game. I’m also a city girl, with no desire to freeze my ass off in some backwoods Viking village. Plus, you’re like some hot Viking rock star warriors and I’m—well, I’m the woman who’s more interested in spending a month designing and programming individual strands of your hair so it looks exactly right when you’re fighting in my videogame. Trust me, this is not going to work.”

FJ gives her speech careful consideration before answering, “I cannot trust your words because I do not understand most of what you say. But I do wonder why you think the gate would bring us together if, as you say, we three are so truly unsuited?”

“Honestly,” she answers, still looking at the ground, “I have no idea. Maybe the portal is broken or something? That would explain why nobody’s come back from the future in a long time, right Alisha?”

Alisha gives their she-wolf a carefully worded, “Maybe” over her shoulder.

But FJ frowns, once again understanding little of what she says beyond her belief that they should not be together, even though they are fated. And that she thinks there has been a mistake made by the hallowed gates.

“Do you not feel us as we feel you singing in our blood? I have lain with many, but from the moment our eyes met, I had no care for another she-wolf in my bed. Do you still say now that you would have another wolf for yours?”

This time when her eyes fly up, they meet his for so long, he can tell his question has truly surprised her.

And so does he smile down at her and tell her the truth within his heart, “Ah,
Varra
. You have such beautiful eyes. Verily am I glad to finally behold your true gaze.”

“Whoa!” he hears Tu breathe in the background, as if giving voice to their she-wolf’s stunned look. “So. Much. Game.”

But then comes the sound of children’s voices calling, “FJ! FJ!”

He looks away from the she-wolf to see three young boys spilling into the pre-dawn morning through the back doors of what must be the Alaska kingdom longhouse. They’re older than when FJ saw them last, but still recognizable as Alisha’s same-aged sons, Rafesson, Nago, and Knud—his play cousins who did live the first four summers of their lives in his kingdom’s longhouse.

They collide into him, arms wrapping around his waist, all giving voice to loud questions. “What are you doing here!? I can’t believe it! Did our Fenris send you? Why are you so old now? Do you want to see our phones? Look! Look!”

“Boys, boys! Let him breathe,” Aunt Alisha says, laughing.

But FJ draws them all into his arms for a wide hug, so glad is he to see them once more.

However, when he releases the boys in order to answer their many questions, he sees at once that their mate has used the children’s distraction to slip away. Beyond the house’s strange clear doors, he can spy her scuttling up the stairs, like a thief in the night.

And he wonders if she notices that Olafr follows but a few paces behind her. Or how long it will take her to realize she can run from her mates, but never will she be able to truly hide.

“
H
as
anyone fed you yet today?”

Olafr is glad to be free of tongue when their she-wolf sits down at the top of the stairs and sets down a plate from the morning meal below.

“Here you go,” she says, smiling at him.

In truth, his three same-aged cousins have already brought him much to eat earlier in the morn under the watchful eye of their father, Fenrir Rafe. But keeping herself closed in her room, she has no way of knowing this.

So does he bend his head to gustily eat the food she has brought him, feeling honored by her service. And does she give the place on his back where he was run through with silver arrow good pet, saying, “Wow, you’re all healed up! I’m glad.”

“Is she with you?”
his brother asks inside of his head.

“Yea, she has come with food and upon my injury checks, ever the thoughtful mate.”

“She did gather only your plate at first meal and then did she use checking your wound as an excuse to disappear back up the stairs. The one called Tu says ‘I make her nervous’—whatever that means. But it is clear she wishes little to be near me.”

Though he enjoys the feel of his mate’s hand, softly stroking his back as he takes his meal, Olafr can’t help but hold an opposite worry than his brother.

“And does she treat me as the boys do, ever the pet. I think it gives her comfort to pretend there is no fated mate inside my wolf.”

“This cannot go on.”

“It will not for long,”
Olafr assures his brother.
“I can feel her wolf taking in my scent behind her human’s back.”

Yea, the she-wolf will be theirs soon. Her human would deny this, but Olafr can sense her wolf ripening to the idea of him. Beholding him with primal interest whenever their she-wolf leaves her chamber.

Which she does very rarely. Only to journey down the stairs to the large cooking hearth, below, a couple times a day. There she gathers many shiny packages and bottles filled with strange, brightly colored potions, before climbing back up the stairs and disappearing once again into her chamber.

This morn is no different. After a few moments of petting, she leaves the plate of food with him and hies away, taking with her only the clear packages and one strangely shaped drinking conveyance with the image of two warring red bulls upon it’s shiny surface.

Olafr thinks there must be food in the packages, given their she-wolf has yet to share a meal with her family in the two days he has been here. Not wholesome, strengthening food of the sort his mother does make, but the evil, packaged food of which she spake when describing her time. He also has little trust of the potions the she-wolf drinks, as he suspects they are behind the strange clicking noises he hears coming from her room at all hours.

At first, Olafr was merely curious. She spoke not at all. There only came from her room strange clicking sounds. But when the sounds continued without cease, he felt the stirrings of concern.

What is she doing? Why does she never leave her room? What is she afraid of?

And she is afraid. He has sensed this fear from the moment she attempted to deny their claim. But he also senses her fear goes well beyond taking two shifters to mate. Something other than their claim is keeping her in her room, making her fearful of coming out. But what?

Olafr spends much time outside her door pondering this question. Truth be told, protecting their she-wolf has been dull work, indeed. Even with his small play-cousins coming up the stairs to give him gifts of leftover food and escort him outside to empty his bladder behind the house.

Olafr can smell more children in the house. But the three boys he knew in his own time are the only ones who visit, and even then, under the watchful eye of their father, Fenrir Rafe. Olafr appreciates the visits, but understands the escort he receives is meant to prevent him from traveling around the kingdom house on his own. His brother is right about the shifters from other lands. They cannot control their wolves and do not trust even a Viking in wolf form.

However, later that morn a new human comes up the stairs. Long and thin with near the same coloring as his sister, but with black hair instead of red. She is Aunt Alisha’s older sister he soon realizes. But like many of the brown beauties from this land, the years hang upon her kindly.

“H-hello,” she says, when she reaches the top of the steps.

Olafr rises to all fours and waits patiently for her to state her reason for coming.

He can hear her audible gulp and it seems she is forcing herself to take a few steps in his direction.

“I…need to talk to Tee and I’m hoping to dear God what Alisha said about you not killing me on sight is true.”

Olafr blinks, wondering again about this land where shifters are so frightened of their wolves.

“Okay, so I’m just going to…” she quickly knocks on the door, as if afraid that action alone will send him into a killing frenzy.

A moment later, their she-wolf appears, giving a great yawn as she says, “Hey, Janelle. What are you doing up here?”

“Did I wake you?” the one called Janelle asks.

“No, actually you saved me from dozing off, and I still have a few more simulations to run before we send the final game concept presentation to the Koreans, so that’s a good thing.”

The look on Janelle’s face tells Olafr she has about as much understanding of their she-wolf’s words as he does. However, like his mother when she does not comprehend something spoken to her in their father’s tongue, she responds politely. “It sounds like you have plenty of work to do, so I’ll try not to keep you too long.”

The woman hesitates, looking towards Olafr once again. “May I come in?” she asks their she-wolf. “I’d like to talk more about…what we discussed the other night, before…” she seems to be choosing her words carefully “…certain events.”

Now their she-wolf gives Olafr a careful eye, before saying, “Yeah, sure, come on in.”

Olafr’s eyes stay on their she-wolf as she allows Janelle to enter her chamber. He would not deny their she-wolf anything—especially the company of another female as he suspects she is lonely—but something about this visit rubs his fur the wrong way.

He can feel his wolf senses giving great start, even as his mate looks away in that manner of hers. And shuts the door in his face.