“This is highly useful and prized information,” Wolf said and then he looked down on Freya with pride. “And all this thanks to you. You will earn the respect of everyone in the First Realm.”
Freya squealed when he picked her up and swirled her around in the small space, almost knocking over the candle.
“Didn´t I say you could do it?” he asked and she looked at him shyly.
“You did.”
“And have you now learned that I am always right and you must always listen to me and always do exactly as I tell you to?”
Freya scowled.
“No, I must´ve missed that part,” she said and he chuckled, pulling her close. His eyes were flickering over her with a watchfulness that quickly morphed into an all-consuming yearning that Freya knew if she stayed, would last for a lifetime. And then he said the words.
“Freya, you are everything to me.”
Later that night, she noticed that Wolf refused to look her in the eyes. And his thrusts were harder and much deeper than they were before. Not that she had against it but she could feel his anger and…hurt. He had wanted her to say something back.
After Wolf fell asleep, with her tucked against him she looked up at the ceiling with its intricate frost pattern. How was she going to be able to pull this off? Her heart felt heavy as she lightly traced Wolf´s face. Her fingertips outlined his dark brows, his chiseled cheekbones, his full lips and she continued down to his chest that was powerful and flawless except for those scars.
Could she truly refuse him the happiness he was now experiencing with her? His life had been so difficult, his birth mother trying to murder him because of what he was. He had been betrayed by his own flesh and blood and now, she, his queen was going to do the same?
Carefully, to not wake him him she got out of bed. He moved a little in his sleep, his right hand automatically clutching after her but he didn´t wake up. As silently as she could, Freya walked out, not bothering to close the door. She hurried down the staircase, opening the large gate to the snow that was twirling so much it was almost blinding.
Walking out into the garden, Freya could hardly see where she was going. There was ice beneath the snow causing her to almost slipped. And had it ever been this cold? If she stayed out here for too long, she would probably get a frost bite. If she didn´t know better she would have almost guessed that the frost didn´t want her to go anywhere.
Not that she planned to. All she wanted was to say goodbye to Philip, to release him. She hadn´t been unable to attend his funeral but this would have to do. Freya bent down and picked up some snow that she held up to the furious whiteout.
“Good bye, Philip,” she whispered, releasing the snow. Letting it fly until it was twirling away up to the sky. As she walked back to the bedroom her steps felt lighter. It had been difficult to let go of Philip but not as difficult as she had expected. Somewhere in her mind she wondered if she should have done this centuries ago.
Freya tiptoed into the room, trying to be quiet as she snuck into bed but then she noticed Wolf wasn´t in it. A movement behind her caused her to twirl around, only to see him seated by the window. He had a grave, strenuous expression on his face.
“Raving river,” she gulped. “Why are you sitting in the dark like that?” Had he been looking out at the garden, looking at her? He was wearing pants and boots as if he had planned on going out but no shirt, his long hair spread over his burly shoulders, catching the light from the moon.
He didn´t answer and that wasn´t a good sign. Freya sighed inwardly and went to sit at the edge of the bed, preferring to crawl into it and hide beneath the covers.
“Where were you?”
His voice was only a whisper but it pounded in Freya´s head. It was getting colder in the room, making her face tingle from the icy air. But she´d had a difficult night and got angry.
“Were you spying on me?”
“Answer me,” he said between gritted teeth.
“Just outside,” Freya said exasperated, standing up and she removed the coat she´d been in. She thought that her being naked would distract him but apparently not.
“Doing what?”
“Getting some fresh air.” She hoped that he wouldn´t hear the hesitation in her voice.
Wolf bent over so that his elbows rested on his knees and he clasped his hands in front of him. He was holding them so tightly the veins in his arms bulged.
“You went out in the middle of the night to grab some fresh air?”
“Yes, am I not allowed to do that?” She couldn´t tell him about her previous plans. Maybe he would go after Swarog anyway, putting himself in danger over her or maybe his reaction wouldn´t be as understanding as she would have wanted. He had warned her that he was losing his patience and she knew how he reacted whenever he was pushed. Telling him that she had planned to dupe him because of Philip would probably send Wolf into a jealous rage.
“That you are but I also know that wasn´t what you were doing.” His face was still in the dark and she couldn´t see his eyes. “There is a sadness within you, what is it?”
“Please Wolf, I don´t want to talk about it.” Not tonight. Maybe not ever, or at least not in one hundred years or so. Freya shuddered at the fury he would unleash if he ever found out too soon.
“You´re holding back,” Wolf said. “You give me your body but not the rest of you.” His eyes were cold, demanding and she avoided meeting them.
“I´ve given you all of me,” Freya protested. “What more do you
