Magnar (The Wolves of Clan Sutherland Book 1)

by Mary Morgan

  Enough! He could ponder these questions another time. Protecting his wife and the magical stone would be enough until a time of his choosing.

  The wolf inside clawed at him to be set free, if only for an hour.

  Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he reasoned it was time to allow the animal to roam the surrounding hills. First, he would charge Gunnar with keeping a watch on his wife until he returned.

  As he placed the ale skin on the ground, he started to leave.

  “Have you eaten everything?” asked Elspeth softly.

  Turning to face her, he handed her the package of food. “Nae.”

  She struggled to sit more fully and took a few bites of cheese. “How much longer until we reach Steinn?”

  Magnar braced his arms over his bent knees. “With the Gods favoring good weather, we should be there in two days. When we reach the last hill before Steinn, I am sending a few of my men to announce our arrival.”

  Elspeth’s mouth narrowed. “Do you fear a battle?”

  “Since I am unable to discern this Baardsen, I cannot say for certain.”

  “He’s worse than a snake,” she bit out tersely.

  “This is why you will not proceed inside the keep until my men and I reason it safe for you and Erik.”

  Dropping the cheese, she snapped, “You cannot expect us to stay behind like timid mice.”

  He arched a brow. “I admire your courage, Elspeth, but ken this—I am your husband, your sword, and your shield. If there is a battle, I must maintain my focus.” Magnar tapped a finger to his chest. “The wolf within would rip apart any who thought to harm you. There is much you do not ken about the animal. I do control him, but I’ve never had a wife to protect. Furthermore, there is much I need to learn, as well.”

  “Two days, you say?” She pursed her lips and resumed eating.

  “Aye,” he reaffirmed quietly.

  She held out her hand. “May I have a drink?”

  After complying with her demand, he watched as she drank deeply. His fingers itched to wipe the crumbs and droplets of ale near her lips.

  “Then teach me about your wolf, Magnar. If you refuse to bring forth the animal, you might as well tell me about him. My memory of the stories my grandmother told me are unclear and scattered within my mind.” She turned toward him. “Will you share your knowledge?”

  Taken aback by her words, Magnar tipped her chin up with his finger. “If I do, will you listen with an open heart? Or will you judge and damn me in front of your God?”

  Her gaze roamed over his face. “I have nae desire to damn my husband, despite his beliefs. Your soul shall be judged by God at the end of your days, not by me.” Elspeth grasped his hand and then released her fingers slowly.

  “As with the judgment from my God as well,” he added and took the ale skin from her.

  Taking a sip, he glanced upward at the twinkling stars. “Foremost, the wolves protect and defend our king. It is a duty deep within our souls. My father used to say that when I take a wife, a shift happens with the wolf. His keen sense of loyalty splits in two—duty to king and the wife. Once, when my mother was threatened by another man, my father was unable to control the beast, and the wolf instantly came forth.”

  Elspeth touched his shoulder. “Did the wolf kill the man?”

  Magnar lowered his head. “Almost. My father swiftly recaptured control and transformed back into a man. Yet the man the wolf injured along the side of his neck remained scarred for the rest of his life. It was a lesson my father realized too late. His father had died before he had a chance to counsel him on the ways of the wolf. Therefore, my father started my studies early on wolf lore.”

  “A wise man,” commented Elspeth.

  “Wise and foolish.”

  Elspeth handed him a portion of dried meat. “Is your father still alive? Your mother? What would they think of our marriage?”

  After taking the food, he paused in thought. “Nae. He died many years ago from a fever that scourged our village. He was one of the strongest leaders ever. Nae one believed it until they witnessed his body on the funeral bonfire. Grief stricken, my mother left Scotland soon thereafter for their second home on Orkneyjar Isles. She died earlier this year.” He pressed a fist over his heart. “My mother followed the old beliefs but honored the new religion. I reckon she would have favored our union, since she yearned for me to take a wife.”

  “I am sorry for your loss, Magnar,” she offered softly. “If I may ask, why was your father foolish? Was he not a good and kind man?”

  Magnar almost choked on the piece of dried meat. “Good and kind are not words I would choose for my father. Stern, fair, and loyal.” He returned his attention to Elspeth. “My parents left out mentioning one important detail to me. I had a brother—a twin.”

  Elspeth drew back, her eyes growing wide. “Sweet Mother Mary. What happened? Why did they leave that out? Did he die at birth?”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Only the first-born male can become a wolf.” Magnar hesitated on how to proceed with the telling. How could he make Elspeth understand? She followed a different path—one where magic was considered evil.

  She nudged him gently. “Continue. I shall keep silent. Remember, I will not judge you.”

  When he glanced at her, he noted tenderness in her eyes and smile. Her courage to listen spurred him onward with the tale.

  “We are bound with magic from long ago,” Magnar paused, fearing a reaction. When none was given, he continued, “There can be only one elder male wolf. Any other children do not carry the magic. Yet my brother, Thorfinn, was born a wolf and lives. My parents feared we would rip each other apart and sent Thorfinn to live in the northern isles. My mother told me of him last year. I became angry and lashed out with bitter words. Soon thereafter, I left.”

  Elspeth touched his cheek with her fingers.

  Magnar grasped her hand and placed it over his heart. “I never had a chance to offer amends for my harsh words.”

  “You must find your brother,” she affirmed.

  He chuckled low. “’Tis my important task, once we have control of Steinn. I intend to find and bring him into the brotherhood of the wolves.”

  Worry creased her features. “Surely you will allow him to choose?”

  “A lone wolf can do harm to many, including himself.” Magnar considered it best to not reveal the possibility his brother might be raiding across Scottish lands with other Northmen.

  “If I may suggest, you can always offer your amends in a prayer. A mother’s love is all-forgiving.”

  His hardened shield cracked, and Magnar allowed the healing balm of her words to settle inside him.

  Leaning her head on his shoulder, she yawned. “Thank you for giving me my first lesson on the wolf.”

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “If you give me a few moments, I shall prepare a bed of pine branches. Some of the men have gathered them for you. The ground is much harder here.”

  She lifted her head and gave him a radiant smile. “How wonderful and kind.”

  “Furthermore, I shall use my body as a shield from the coldness, if you will consent.”

  Even in the glow of firelight, Magnar noticed the bright red splotches forming on her cheeks.

  Swallowing visibly, she whispered, “Aye.”

  Placing his forehead onto hers, he whispered, “I have nae intention of ravaging your body out in the woods, especially around so many. But with two bodies tucked close together, we shall keep warm.”

  “Thank you.”

  Magnar withdrew his hold and stood. Giving a short whistle, he pointed to Ivar and Bjorn. Within moments, the men had gathered the collected pine branches and crossed to him. They worked quietly to make the ground into a comfortable bed for Elspeth. Each gave a curt nod to him after their chore was completed.

  Going to his horse, Magnar removed another smaller wrap and returned to Elspeth. After placing the wrap over the branches, he took her chilled ha
nd. “Lay down. You must find rest this night.”

  Elspeth squeezed his hand. “I fear there isn’t enough room for us both.”

  He smiled slowly. “The ground will fit my needs.”

  Drawing her cloak more firmly around her body, she settled onto the bedding.

  When he reckoned she was finished finding a comfortable position, Magnar joined her on the ground. He wrapped his arm and cloak around her waist, drawing her against his body. The fresh scent of pine and Elspeth had his head spinning, and he let out a groan.

  She stiffened.

  “Relax,” he urged, but found it difficult to do so himself.

  Giggling, she replied, “You are warm and making noises.”

  “And you find humor in this?”

  “Simply…nervous.”

  Curious, he asked, “Why, Elspeth?”

  “I can’t explain what I do not understand,” she confessed quietly, relaxing more into him.

  Her body tempted him beyond reason—lush breasts to savor and round hips to plunder and slake his need. Magnar fought the growing lust. He nuzzled her neck. “Would you feel better if I shared that I am nervous as well?”

  “You? A strong warrior? Of what?”

  Did he dare share his inner torment with her? If he did, would he appear weak? Banishing the thought, he said, “Never has another female stirred me so, wife.”

  Exhaling softly, she muttered, “I ken there have been many who have warmed your bed, Magnar. I am certain they were lovely.”

  He scowled. Aye, he had bedded many, but Elspeth was wrong. None made him a thorny mix of feelings, leaving his gut twisted like gnarled vines. “You are far more a beauty than any of those other women.”

  Twisting around, she gazed into his eyes. “Truly? Freckles mar my nose and cheeks. I have unruly hair and a color not favored by many. Furthermore, I have nae wisdom on—” She swallowed and looked away.

  “Wisdom?” he echoed.

  “On the ways of pleasing a man,” she blurted out.

  His wife misjudged her enchanting qualities. “When you are ready, I shall show you how to please me, Elspeth. In return, you must tell me what you favor. I want to give you pleasure.”

  “I find your kisses pleasing,” she whispered. “I…I enjoy being in your arms.”

  She squirmed against him, and Magnar fought the urge to slip his hand under her gown and stroke the soft flesh. His cock swelled to an unbearable ache with the need to sink into her heated core.

  Clenching his jaw, Magnar attempted to dwell on other thoughts—fighting in the lists with the other men, an icy swim in the waters off Orkneyjar Isles where the water would slash at your skin like tiny blades, anything but the enticing woman in his arms.

  “You are quiet. Have I offended you with my words?”

  “Nae.” He growled out the word. “I ache to bury myself into your womanly folds.” Not prone to soft words or actions, he also found himself unskilled when it came to control around Elspeth.

  She gasped. “Should I move away?”

  “Do not even think of removing your lush body from mine, wife. I’ll snatch you into my arms and take you deep into the woods. There I will give you pleasure and quench my needs.”

  “Magnar MacAlpin, did you not give me your word?” she chastised, though there was a hint of teasing in her tone.

  “Aye, that I did. Will you consent to a favor?”

  Her delicate fingers began to trace slow circles over the top of his hand. “A kiss for my husband?”

  Blowing out a sigh, he gazed upward into the night sky. “I fear one kiss will not be enough. Nae. My request is simple. Quit your stirrings and get some rest. It will ease my burning desire to claim you.”

  She remained silent for several heartbeats and then whispered, “An easy request. Granted.” Elspeth ceased her movements and removed her fingers from his skin.

  Nevertheless, Magnar continued to be tormented by her body. His hand burned from where she stroked the skin. Images of her straddling his rigid cock had him clenching his jaw so tightly he feared it would snap.

  The ever-growing moon cast her milky white glow against the velvet night, but this did not deter his purpose.

  Drawing upon his training, Magnar banished all thoughts of the woman he held close. With the stars twinkling down at him, he brought forth the names and shapes of the beasts that watched over all warriors. One by one, he silently uttered their names and offered a prayer for continued support over this journey and those that would follow.

  He sought out the mighty Thor in his grand chariot streaking across the cosmos. When his gaze touched on Freyja’s Dress, and the belt and sword on her girdle, his inner anguish resumed again, and his thoughts returned to the woman within his arms.

  Was he enchanted because Elspeth refused him? Was this the reason he found himself out of control and unable to harness his desires? She had called him husband earlier. A word he thought never to hear from those lips. At least not so soon.

  Magnar closed his eyes. His lust for his wife consumed him.

  Control. Bind. Dismiss.

  Slowly releasing the tension that drummed in his veins, Magnar centered himself. Nocturnal animals skittered in the silence. The flap of wings swept in a breeze over him, and his wolf lifted his head.

  The night called to all beasts. His was no exception.

  Until Steinn was under his control, Magnar required the utmost concentration. His wife proved to be a heady distraction, and he could ill afford to be swept into a lustful tempest to claim and devour what she had to offer.

  Even so, the words he ordered into his body and mind seemed to slip into the mists that hugged the mountaintops. And when the first rose-light of dawn streaked the sky, Magnar had found no rest.

  Chapter Thirteen

  When the sound of laughter touched her ears, Elspeth twisted around. Frustration seethed inside of her. “’Tis unfair,” she complained.

  After breaking their fast earlier that morning, Magnar led them back toward the stream. He instructed some of his men to cleanse their bodies in the cool water. If they were going into battle, they should enjoy some pleasures before death sought to claim them.

  The other guards gaped at these Northmen but finally relented and joined them. Of course, Erik jumped in glee and was the first to be rid of his clothing.

  Magnar announced this would be her nephew’s first lesson on how to swim.

  Ever so delicately, her husband took her elbow and steered her into a safe enclosure with the horses and one of his guards. Did he not think she would overhear his order to Gunnar to keep her tucked securely within the trees? Or did her husband not consider she required some time to bathe as well?

  Elspeth waited until her husband retreated. She would not be dismissed so easily and promptly informed Gunnar she required some time alone for private matters. In truth, she understood their conditions, but the grime of their travels had her itching constantly.

  Elspeth shielded her eyes from the intense glare of the sun. Light shimmered off the water in front of her—inviting and tormenting her. Though the nights were chilled, the days had proven to be warm, and she longed to strip her clothes and swim in the cool waters of the stream.

  She swatted away the flying vermin attempting to nip the exposed skin along her neck. “Be gone. I am not your feast!”

  Her gown clung to her skin like sap on a tree—sticky and moist. She tugged at her bindings yearning to be free from the material.

  Grumbling a curse, she slipped off her boots and went to the water. Squatting by the edge of the stream, she splashed the cool water over her face and behind her neck. “Rules! Can we alter some for women? If I have a daughter—” She paused and cupped a hand over her mouth, her eyes growing wide in delight.

  First, you must permit your husband into your bed.

  Fits of laughter spilled forth from Elspeth, and she tumbled back on the rocks bordering the stream. Her guard stormed through the thick copse. She glared up at him. �
��I am in nae need of saving, Gunnar.”

  The man brushed a hand down the back of his neck. “You ken my life would be forfeit if Magnar found you in danger?”

  Shocked by his words, she gaped at the large man. “As you can see, I am not in any danger, but please explain your meaning.”

  Gunnar gestured toward the water. “Have you completed your private matters?”

  Guilt assailed her for the previous lie. “Aye. I simply wished to take advantage of the cool water.”

  He held out his hand. “Will you accept my aid?”

  After allowing the man to help her stand, Elspeth brushed out the bits of dirt and pebbles from her gown. “Thank you.”

  Gunnar clasped his hands behind his back. “You ken Magnar is our leader, aye?”

  “King William told me.”

  “And he is part wolf?”

  “Aye,” she responded hesitantly.

  “Those who are under his leadership must obey him. I was given an order—one important task to watch over his wife. If I fail, my life is his to end.”

  “I meant nae harm, Gunnar,” she lamented and turned away. Crossing her arms over her chest, she steadied her voice. “Not only am I having a difficult time believing my husband is a wolf, but also the restraints of being wed. ’Tis a wonder Magnar agreed to marry me. I am not like other women who are meek, submissive, and obedient.”

  “You are wrong, Lady Elspeth.”

  She stole a glance at Gunnar in surprise. A smile curved his stern features. “What Magnar requires is a strong woman to stand by his side and honor the ways of the land, Gods, Goddesses, and most of all—his wolf. You have all these qualities.”

  Dropping her hands, she turned and faced him. “But therein lies the one thorn of truth. I do not believe in his Gods and Goddesses. Once, aye, but nae more.”

  A twinkle of mischief creased the corners of his eyes. “I can understand your hardship. ’Tis one I battle with daily after my morning prayers.” He slipped his hand beneath his tunic and drew forth a wooden cross.

  Elspeth shook her head. “I had heard you follow my faith in the one true God, but how can you find any peace living amongst those who do not?”

  Gunnar’s humor was replaced by sadness. “Because I believe our Lord refuses to damn my soul. I deem he has given me this honor of spreading his good news to all. Aye, I am part wolf, but I ken there is a purpose for me within the brotherhood. Cannot I speak about our Lord at a table honoring Odin?” He nodded slowly. “Your husband allows me to say a blessing before meals, all battles, and when we bury the dead.”