---

Nord returned just as the first howl broke through the surrounding silence. He brought bigger branches, and a few boughs to cover the entrance. Once they were in place, the three of them huddled together. Nord leaned against the far end of the rock, his legs, wider than both her and Duncan combined, took up most of the space. Dagmar shifted, trying not to crowd his bulbous toes while doing her best not to touch Duncan.

“Wolves are near,” Nord mumbled and grabbed a handful of dirt. “Cover yourself.” He rubbed the dirt over his chest and head, nodding encouragingly at her.

“Masks our scent,” Duncan whispered, scrubbing dirt down the front of his jacket.

Dagmar looked at her mud-caked legs and smirked, “I think I’m good.”

Duncan poured a handful of dirt onto her jacket, “then a little more won’t hurt.” He grinned when Dagmar frowned at him. “Safety first, Dag.”

The next howl was closer. Nord closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the rock. His chest moved with the slow rhythm of his breathing. If Dagmar didn’t know better, she would think he was meditating. Maybe he was, in his own troll fashion. Dagmar focused on her own breathing. She felt Duncan shift beside her and realized she was now sitting in the crook of his arm. She tried to move, but he wouldn’t let her. His hand rested on her shoulder, holding her in place. His fingers were like ice pressing against her. A shudder raced down her spine. His other hand held the hilt of his sword. His breath was coming in light puffs of mist in the air. She looked at him and he shook his head toward the branch-covered entrance.

A twig snapped. Dagmar’s eyes widened. Something was there. She leaned back into Duncan and raised her fire. Between them, the air singed with heat and ice. Duncan’s gaze fixed on the darkness beyond the branches. His eyes glowed glacier green as his right hand tightened on his sword. Dagmar wondered if he could see the wolves’ light. She wondered what that looked like as she stared into the darkness and waited.

Neither of them breathed. Dagmar’s blood heated to the point she could hear it singing for release, but still, she didn’t move. Beside her Duncan’s frigid frame tensed as a rock outside the entrance moved. It rolled slowly through the thin barrier coming to rest beside Nord’s small toe. Dagmar held still. Duncan narrowed his eyes and peered into the darkness.

The growl was thick and guttural. No one moved. Dagmar’s fire screamed to be let loose, but she tempered it down. They didn’t want to be found, they would only act if necessary, and it wasn’t time. Not yet. The dirt shifted, and the branches rustled. Not yet.  A black snout poked through the leaves and sniffed, a growl rising in its throat. Not yet. Duncan squeezed her shoulder. He was warning her to be ready. A flash of teeth, a snarl—Dagmar brought her fire up, both palms igniting as she burst from the nook—fire flashing. She caught the first wolf before he could pounce on her. Ashes floated all around them as Duncan flew out of the cavern, sword at the ready—the next wolf jumped at him, his teeth bared. Duncan took him down with a single blow while only just sidestepping him. Blood spurted, the scent alerting other nearby wolves. Dagmar felt the rush of adrenaline surge within her as she summoned her fire and prepared for battle.

More wolves came. Dagmar caught two of them as they charged. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Nord swipe at them with a makeshift club, roaring louder than any of the howls. He crashed into wolf after wolf. Their massive bodies attacking with full force as the troll batted at them. Dagmar turned her fire towards the wolves heading for Nord, she shot two down before it threw her backwards with a snarl masked by blood and fur. She struggled under him, his weight was oppressive. She could feel his teeth snipping at her arms as she flailed momentarily. Focus. She felt her blood boil and aimed her fire at the heart of the beast on top of her. He screeched as he flew off her, Dagmar saw a flash of golden irises. He was far from dead. She exhaled and gathered her flame. The wolf’s coat singed and smoked. He snarled and circled her. His gold eyes never leaving hers. She lifted her hands, flames leaped to life.

“Dagmar!”

Somewhere behind her Duncan screamed her name. She paid him no mind. There was a scuffle to the left of them, peripherally, she watched Duncan raise his sword. Her eyes never left the wolf in front of her. He growled, blood and spittle spilling from his mouth. His teeth were sharp, they gleamed in the dim moonlight. Dagmar raised her flame, leveling it between them. The flame bursting forth—leaping onto the wolf’s coat, searing his skin—the cry that rose from her opponent was loud and ragged as he backed away, his coat aflame. Dagmar watched him race away, what was left of the pack following.  Her heart pounded, her ears rang with screams, scarcely realizing they were her own.

“Dagmar!” Duncan ran to her and pulled her into his arms. She couldn’t stop trembling. “You’re ok. You’re ok.” He repeated rubbing his hands over her arms.

“Du-Duncan?” Dagmar couldn’t control her stutter any more than she could her shaking limbs. She fought a bloodwolf and won. Holy shit. “Duncan. Shit. Wow.” She muttered before wrapping her arms around him and laughing. “Did you see that?”

His arms tightened around her and he bent his head to touch his forehead to hers, his green eyes gentle. “You were amazing.” He muttered before touching his lips to hers.

Dagmar slipped her hand onto the nape of his neck and pressed him closer. She kissed him back with all the longing and frustration she kept dammed within. He deepened the kiss, his hands roaming her back, pressing her to him.

She broke away first, pushing back from him and huffing. She stared at him; he stood, arms at his sides, breath coming fast. His green eyes were clouded as they met hers, and she shook her head. “We shouldn’t,” she whispered, not understanding her instinct.

Duncan sighed, lifting her chin with his finger, his lips were inches from hers. She felt his breath caress her skin. He only smiled before turning to check on Nord.

Holy shit. Dagmar stared after him, watching his confident stride move him further away from her. She mentally bookmarked the moment as she ran towards the cave to regroup.