Untamed- House of Berserkers

by Lacey Carter Andersen

  The stranger leans closer until his hot breath tickles my ear. “Don’t tell them what you did. Let me take the fall. Trust me. It’s the only way to keep you safe.”

  But why is it so important to you to keep me safe?

  Our van rolls to a stop. A minute later, the doors to the back of the van are pulled open and they reach inside and grab us, yanking us out.

  The strange man growls again, a warning in the back of his throat. But when I look at him, he’s not glaring at the men who handle him so roughly, he’s looking at the men touching me.

  My breath catches in my throat. Berserkers can be protective, it’s their nature, but I don’t think any man has ever looked at me like that before.

  We’re hauled up the steps of a random brown building and pulled inside to a hall illuminated by fluorescent light that slowly opens up into a large room. Men in suits work at desks crammed together in the space, but all eyes go to us as they drag us through the room and down a quiet hallway.

  When they stop before a door and shove me inside, the strange man begins to shout in the hall before the door closes behind me. They plunk me onto one of two chairs that face each other, a table between them, before uncuffing my hands and then chaining them to the table.

  I look up to see a mirror in front of me, and I’ve seen enough cop shows to be pretty sure there are men on the other side watching me. For the first time since killing the vampires, the reality of my situation really dawns on me. Everything the strange man said sinks into my consciousness, and I realize that I really am in deep shit.

  If I killed a group of vampires, if I killed an alpha vampire, I’d have to hope like hell they wouldn’t treat me as an adult in the eyes of the court. At twenty-three, the paranormal world still considered me an adolescent. It wasn’t until we hit thirty that we were tried for crimes as adults, but they made exceptions.

  And I’m pretty sure killing a room full of men would be an exception.

  Most adults tried for murder were executed within days of sentencing. When the stranger warned me about not speaking, he’d been right. Yet I couldn’t stomach the idea of letting him take the fall for me. Was he an adult? Would they kill him for my crime?

  As I’m mulling over what the hell to do, the door to my little room opens. A man stands in the doorway, a young man with neat black hair, dark brown eyes, and a crisp, expensive-looking suit. He plays with his cufflinks for a moment as he stares at me, then flashes a smile before turning and closing the door behind him.

  When he looks back, that smile of his widens. “I have a feeling we’re going to end up doing this the hard way, and I fucking love the hard way.”

  My stomach sinks. What the hell does that mean?

  Chapter Four

  Emory

  I’m slumped into a chair, my hands chained to the table before I can summon the strength to fight to reach Kiera. The bullets in my back burn and the blood that leaks from the wounds are hot on my back, but unfortunately for these Enforcers, I’m well equipped to handle pain.

  The shot they gave me would’ve put another man out for hours, but I was experienced with it. I’d been given it hundreds of times in the past, and developed more of a resistance to it than most. And yet, it had still been enough to keep me from changing, to keep me from going berserk and killing the Enforcers who took Kiera from me.

  Just the thought of her makes my stomach twist.

  I’d been sent specifically to monitor Drake and his vampire posse. There were whispers that the vampire was being hunted, and so I’d been dispatched by the king to help the alpha vampire in his time of need. The assignment had made me sick. The bastard was twisted and rotten to the core. He liked to kill for pleasure. He liked to take young women to dominate and frighten.

  The vampires that guarded him never blinked an eye at what he did, but it tortured me. I couldn’t bear to see women hurt. I couldn’t bear to see the pointless violence. And yet, that’s exactly why my brother had sent me on this mission…to torture me, to break me even more.

  When my assignment had led us to this town, I’d thought it was the final nail in my coffin. A reminder of just how far I’d fallen. As a child, this area had been my home. It had been the place where every good memory I’d ever had had taken place, so it seemed like a cruel injustice that I’d be brought back to this place of innocence, when I was nothing but a shell of a man.

  I’d sat at the bar, remembering this place. Remembering my best friend Kiera, and wishing more than anything that my mother hadn’t taken everything from me. And then, then I’d flipped on the security camera on my cellphone, praying they were done with whoever they were hurting that night.

  The last thing I’d expected was to see Kiera Frost.

  That white-blonde hair of hers, streaming down past her thighs, was unlike any other woman’s. That, combined with being in this town, and seeing the familiar leather clothes of the Winter Berserkers, and I knew it could only be her.

  And yet, as she stood by the door, her face pale, I recognized that she was no longer a girl; she was a woman. An impossibly beautiful woman.

  And then she’d gone berserk.

  And everything changed.

  The door to the room I’m being kept in opens, and a woman enters. Her eyes are cold and her jet black hair is short and neat. She wears a dark blue suit, tailored to fit her petite frame.

  I expect others to join her, but she closes the door behind her, leaving the tiny woman alone in a room with a potentially dangerous berserker. My gaze snaps to the window that I’m sure others watch me through, but even I realize that if I wanted to kill the woman, the help on the side of the window would be too late.

  “I’m Agent Jami,” she says, her voice as cold as her eyes.

  I stare back at her, not blinking.

  “And you are?”

  Again, I don’t answer.

  Her mouth lifts into a chilling smile. “I know exactly who you are, Emory. What I don’t understand is what the hell you’re doing. There’s a woman just next door who has taken responsibility for the death of the—“

  “I did it, not her.”

  She moves closer to me and stands in front of the table, setting her hands down on top of it. “If she actually went berserk, you and I both know how valuable she is.”

  “She didn’t. She’s lying to cover for me.”

  Her calculating gaze runs over my face, but I’d withstood enough torture to keep my face carefully blank. “You can get up right now, and I’ll return you to the custody of your brother.”

  And I knew exactly what would happen to Kiera. If they believed she went berserk, her fate would be worse than death. And if they just thought I was letting an innocent woman take the fall for my crime, they’d kill her fast and clean.

  “It was me,” I tell her, no hesitation in my voice.

  They’ll have to kill me for this, no matter how powerful my family is.

  And death will be a relief.

  “Just say she did it,” she presses again, then leans closer, lowering her voice. “Do you think I want to deal with the repercussions with your family for this?”

  “I killed the vampires, all of them.”

  She curses.

  A second later, the door opens and a man stands without speaking. A painfully thin man, so thin that he looks sickly fragile. His hair is slicked back, and his long nose seems to stand out from his wrinkled face. If not for the cruelty in his dark eyes, I might have felt pity for him.

  Instead, I knew exactly who he was. And I knew the same thing the agent did: my time to escape was gone.

  The head Enforcer was here.

  Chapter Five

  Kiera

  I want to look away from the man as he sits down across from me, but I get the feeling it’d be the equivalent of taking my eyes off a spider, a creepy fucking spider with legs bent, ready to attack. And every berserker knew not to take their eyes off of an enemy.

  “So.” He fiddles with those damn cufflinks a
gain. “You probably want to deny killing the vampires. You want to tell us that the other man killed them.”

  I lift a brow. “Not at all.”

  His cool exterior crumbles for a moment. “No?”

  A shudder moves through my body. I have to do this, no matter what happens. “I killed them.”

  “You went berserk?” he asks, lifting a brow.

  I nod.

  Something changes in his expression that I don’t understand. He rises from his chair and moves about the room, as if pacing. Suddenly, his hand slides the light switch off. I hear the scraping of a chair, and I start to stand, but the cuffs keep me bound to the table.

  And then he’s behind me, his hands wrapped around my throat, keeping me in place against him.

  “Wh—?” His hands tighten, cutting off the word.

  I hear people banging against the door, but something prevents it from opening.

  “Listen to me,” he growls into my ear. “Haven’t you heard about the damned prophecy? The one that says a berserker female will be the wife to the one male capable of ruling over all the berserkers? No?” he scoffs. “You probably haven’t. But I’ll tell you this, if the House of Berserkers hears about your existence, you’re going to wish for death. So tell them you killed those vamps, tell them you didn’t, but don’t tell them that you went berserk. You understand me?”

  The pounding at the door grows louder.

  “I don’t understand,” I force past my lips.

  He pulls me back harder against him. “The leader of the House of Berserkers is a fucking beast. I’m a cold fucking shifter, but even I can’t handle that monster. If you have a choice between death and the berserkers, choose death.”

  Suddenly, the door bursts open.

  He’s away from me in an instant. The light flashes on, revealing his chair on its side beside the door. Two giant men in suits stand in the doorway, both frowning.

  “What the hell happened?”

  The Enforcer shrugs, adjusting his cufflinks again. “A miscommunication.” Then his eyes swing to me. “Confession time, girl…”

  I draw myself up taller and speak before I know what I’m saying. “I killed them, but I didn’t go berserk.”

  The Enforcer’s expression gives nothing away.

  Suddenly, all the men pull back. An old man that reeks of death comes through the door, his piercing black eyes almost painful when they fall on me.

  His thin lips pull back. “What say you?”

  My heart races. “I killed the vampires.”

  My Enforcer bows his head slightly. “It’s an issue, sir. Both of them claim to be the murderer, and until we can get to the bottom of who—“

  “They will both go to the Wicked Reform School.” His voice is a raspy declaration.

  “But, sir,” My Enforcer begins. “Those vampires were important. Their families will want the responsible party killed, so—“

  The old man’s gaze snaps to the Enforcer and within seconds the man is on his knees, gasping for breath. “I will not execute the wrong party. Nor will I execute a minor.” His eyes snap back to me, and the Enforcer drops to the ground, finally drawing in full breaths. “If they cannot be reformed, then they shall die.”

  Someone in the hall says, “The House of Berserkers will want—“

  “The House of Berserkers do not rule here, the law does!” Anger laces the old man’s words, and then his gaze narrows on me. “Reform or die, berserker, that’s your only choice.”

  When he leaves the room, my knees buckle and I fall back into my chair. The Wicked Reform School? No, I’d heard about that place.

  The Enforcer might have said my choices were death or life as a bride to a monster, but it seems there’s always another horrible choice if I just wait long enough. And the Wicked Reform School?

  I’d be lucky to survive.

  Chapter Six

  King Maxen

  I stand before my mirror as my tailor makes small adjustments to my new black suit. I’m perfection, toned in all the right places and with genetics working on my side, so it only makes sense that my clothes should be as perfect as I am. The expensive material brings attention to the fine cut of every muscle in my body, while still looking eloquent.

  It was a hard look to pull off.

  As a berserker, the bulk of my people tend to stick to leather and furs, while the vampires prefer suits and the finer things It took a while to create a style that didn’t make me look like a bodybuilder squeezed into formal clothes. But now…now even the vampires envied me.

  “Very good, Martin,” I say.

  My tailor stands back. The old shifter’s gaze sweeps from the top of my suit to my fine shoes, then he gives a short nod.

  A knock at my room draws my attention, and I glance at the door in the reflection of the mirror. “Enter.”

  Bill enters the room, his face tense. Instantly, my good mood fades away. When Bill was upset, there was usually a good reason for it. The older berserker comes to stand behind me, his grey hair impeccably styled, just the way I’d instructed he have it styled. And even though there were wrinkles on his sports’ coat, it was a massive improvement to the leather vest he wore as my father’s advisor.

  “What is it?”

  His shoulders roll back, as if he’s preparing himself for my reaction. “There has been a…problem, with Emory.”

  A smile touches my lips. Ah, my little step-brother. No matter what I did, he seemed to find trouble wherever he went. Or, perhaps, I found trouble for him just to see if he’d survive.

  Kings of old often killed their rivals, knowing that a bastard could easily replace them on the throne. I’d gone a different route with Emory.

  The day his mother had shown up at our door, with some story about having hidden the boy from my father but no longer having anywhere to go with him, I’d made a decision. I wouldn’t kill him. No, that would be too easy. I’d break him. I’d destroy every fiber of his being and rebuild him to be nothing but a shadow of a man. A solider who followed orders and nothing else.

  But that wasn’t enough. No matter the situation, he seemed to find admiration. From our people. From my father. From my friends.

  Everyone.

  And so my plan changed again: not just to break him, but to make it clear to every person who saw him that he was unworthy of even the position of my slave. My hands had been somewhat tied when my father was alive, but the second he died, things got easier.

  Now, I ensured he was always going to screw up everything.

  And then I proceeded to punish him. Very publically. As often as I could.

  “Your highness?” Bill says, his question cautious.

  “Tell me of my brother’s latest mistake.”

  The advisor avoids my eyes, something I relished. He’d always met my father’s eyes when he spoke, but my father had never truly taught his people how to fear him. Not the way I had.

  “The vampires died under his protection.”

  I stiffen. Well, that isn’t good. The vampire alpha was a very powerful ally. “His enemies found him…”

  “No,” he clears his throat, “he was killed by a woman.”

  “A woman?” I wasn’t sure if I should be impressed or angry.

  “A woman…who apparently went berserk.”

  I stare at him. “What did you say?”

  “She went berserk, your highness.”

  A world of possibilities opens up in front of me. So many berserkers were fighting my rule. They called my father cruel. They called me a monster. All because I wanted to unite them under one ruler. All because I wanted to bring berserkers into the twenty-first century and make us as respected as all the other races.

  And yet, the berserkers fought me every step of the way. They said I didn’t deserve the throne I already sat on and that I’d never earn a throne that ruled over us all.

  But every one of us knew the legend. And the leaders of the houses…we knew it was more than just a legend. It was a pro
phecy. If a berserker male found a female who could go berserk, they would rule over the other houses. They would be made the king and queen.

  Even the fucking Lord of the House of Winter Berserkers wouldn’t be able to argue against that.

  “I’m assuming my brother is bringing her to me?”

  Bill stares at his feet. “Your brother and the female are currently arriving at the Wicked Reform School.”

  “What?” The word drips with outrage.

  I step down from the platform and glare at the man. “Do you have any idea what this means? Do you have any idea how important that female is?”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “I want her. Here. Now. No matter the cost.”

  Bill’s gaze lifts but doesn’t meet mine. “There are berserkers in the reform school who might be able to be convinced to help us, with the right incentive.”

  “Give them anything they want, but I want her.”

  “And your brother?” Bill asks.

  I look down at him. What should I do with my brother? I have gotten the idiot out of every situation he’s ever been in. I didn’t like not having him groveling at my feet. I didn’t like having him out of my reach.

  And yet…my chest tightens. The female is with my bastard brother. If something were to happen between them, he would be crowned king. He had my father’s blood in him. Could I risk freeing them both?

  “Enlist my brother’s help to free her.” I shall decide what I do with him after that.

  Bill nods and backs away toward the door. Then his gaze goes to my bed. Three women lie in the sheets…well, the parts of three women lie in the sheets. Most berserkers consider females too precious to harm, but that’s because they don’t know what it feels like to fuck a woman in their other form. They don’t understand the power they hold. They don’t know what it feels like to hear the women screaming, to use all their strength to pleasure themselves with a female, alive or dead, it didn’t matter.