Leif
My little captive glared up at me, a furrow on her brow. Her frown did nothing to mar her beauty. Her dark hair framed her lovely face, her limbs and curved body smooth and pleasing, but her temper had me hard as a rock.
“Everything you have to give,” I told her. She could not know what I meant, of course. But I couldn’t help speak the truth. Her journey to full surrender had begun the moment she came into our possession. The sooner she understood, the easier it would be.
Our friend Knut had briefed Brokk and me on what it would be like when we took a mate.
“You need to woo her,” the gruff warrior told us. “Say soft, sweet things. Be gentle.”
But, in the heat of the rescue, the beast had surged forth, our baser nature battling to assert itself and claim her. Even now, I struggled
