Page 62 of The Fanged One

He's here, her wolf sang, doing the full-body tail wag it saved only for him. Let him in. Let him in.

"Come in," Linnea said, ignoring her hyperactive puppy jig.

The door opened, and Fenris ducked under the frame. Whatever Hel had poured down him had loosened something. The grim set had gone out of his shoulders, and his hair was a mess where he had been dragging his hands through it.

"You waited up?" he said, his voice soft.

"I wanted to make sure your sister didn't talk you out of doing the trials with us." She drew her knees up to make room as he sat on the edge of the bed. "How was it catching up with her after so long?"

"It was easy as ever. I missed her. I forgot how much. She's the only one who has ever been able to talk sense into me when I sink my teeth into a bad idea."

"What bad idea? Going to find Loki?"

He looked at her, and the corner of his mouth fought a grin. "No, you."

"I'm a bad idea now? Not going for a trip into Niflheim? Charming." She reached for the mug of water on the nightstand. "Let me guess, she took one look and asked what on earth her big brother was doing with a wolf who can't even manage four paws."

She meant it to come out light, but it slipped free with an edge instead. She tried to cover it by drinking, but Fenris caught the mug and set it back down before she could hide behind it.

"Linnea, my sister has never once cared what shape a thing wears." His thumb moved over the back of her hand. "Don't forget who raised us. We are all shapeshifters, little singer. Hel wears a skull when it suits her and a crown when it does not. I'm a man and a wolf and a god, and which one depends on the hour. The shape we use is the least true thing about any of us. She didn't ask what you turn into. She asked who you are, because that is the only question she has ever bothered with."

She would be the only one who doesn't care. The hurtful thought slipped through before Linnea could stop it.

Her whole life had been a tally of the one thing her body couldn't do, and here was a god telling her it was the least interesting thing about her. It was the same door Gudrun had nudged open in the cabin, the one about gods who weren't like normal shifter wolves. She kept it shut because what waited behind it made no sense.

"What else did she tell you?" she asked, swallowing the lump in her throat. If he walked away from her now, following his sister's advice, she wasn't sure how she would pretend not to be devastated.

"That her trials won't be kind." His thumb went still on her hand. "That I should make the most of tonight, and I should stop wasting time and seduce you."

Linnea laughed, and the fear of rejection and the lump dissolved. "So? Have you started this seduction, or do I have to wait for you to say go?"

The grin broke over his face, slow and wicked, and she had half a second to regret her mouth before he moved. In a blink, Fenris had her flat on the bed and pinned under one heavy arm, his fingers digging into her ribs. She shrieked as he tickled her mercilessly and got absolutely nowhere. A god of his bulk didn't have to work hard to hold down one völva.

"Cheeky creature," he growled into her hair. "You've been cheeky since the forest."

"Hel's seduction idea is going terribly. Two out of ten. Oh no! Stop, stop. I yield, you absolute menace." She was laughing too hard to fight, both hands shoving uselessly at the wall of his chest.

He stopped. The laughter went on between them for a moment, warm and stupid, before it shifted into something else. He was braced over her on both forearms now, his face close, and the playfulness drained out of his mismatched eyes.

"I might be a complete wreck of a male," he said quietly. "I don't know what I am most days. A man, a wolf, a thing the world built a thousand stories about to keep itself frightened." His knuckles brushed her cheek. "Whatever I am, Linnea, I want to give it to you. If you will have me."

"Of course I will," she whispered, heat burning through her chest. "I've never wanted anyone the way I want you."

She didn't say the big L word because it was too soon and the night was already cracking her open. He didn't say it either, but it hung in the space between them, unspoken and somehow understood.

Fenris bent his head down and kissed her. Linnea opened her mouth for him so his tongue could stroke against hers, and the kiss deepened by degrees until her hands were fisting in his shirt and her thoughts were useless.

Finally, her wolf crowed before it retreated, leaving the moment to only Linnea.

Fenris drew back only far enough to take the hem of her T-shirt in both hands. She lifted her arms, and he stripped it off her and dropped it over the side of the bed. His eyes went down her body slowly, and the look on his face was so hot it made her press her thighs together.

"Your turn," she said, attacking his clothes. "I need to feel all these muscles against me as soon as possible."

Fenris laughed at her enthusiasm as she dragged the shirt up over his head, only to get it tangled, making him laugh harder. He took care of the top half while she aimed for his belt.

"Impatient little thing," he chided, toeing off his boots. "Who is seducing whom here?"

"Good point," Linnea said, lying back down and watching him get naked. The silver scars caught the low light all down his chest and arms. She wanted to map every one of them with her mouth.