The Berserker Brides Saga

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The Berserker Brides Saga Page 14

by Lee Savino


  A few times I tried to reach out to the pack, but the link remained faint. We’d strayed out of distance of even the Alphas’ strong call. Or the Corpse King had found a way to disrupt our bond as we’d believed he might.

  The mere thought of our powerful enemy brought my beast to the fore. I hid my hands as my nails lengthened. Gritting my teeth, I resisted the Change.

  Brokk. You must return. We both must bond with her soon. I tried to draw strength from my warrior brother, as I had done many times before. Under the pretense of relieving myself, I stepped behind the wall and braced against the grey-green stones, willing my body to remain a man’s. We’d already frightened Willow once today. I prayed she’d never meet the monster we could become, the Berserker beast.

  Brokk. Brother. Please.

  He kept blocking me. Sunset approached, and I didn’t trust my own control.

  You cannot leave me alone with her, Brokk. It is not safe. Damn him for making me beg. I’d always been the weaker one. He took pleasure in reminding me.

  “Leif?” Willow called.

  “One moment,” I barked, my voice thick as my throat. My head throbbed with the ache of resisting the Change, but at last I regained control and came out from behind the wall.

  She had risen but hadn’t stepped from her spot. “May I have some water?”

  I forced a smile. “Of course, lass. We will go down to the lake.”

  She came to my side. I’d removed the tether and my arm ring from around her throat the night before, and as much as I admired her lovely neck, I missed the sight of my silver collaring it.

  “Give me your word you will not try to run. These woods are strange to us. I do not know what lurks here.”

  “I will not run.”

  “If you do, I will let Brokk punish you.”

  Her scent flared, and the musk of her arousal made my cock respond. For a moment, my vision swam, but the beast did not seize control. It watched, waiting in the shadows, curious about the small, fragile being frowning up at me.

  “You like the idea of punishment?”

  “What? No.” She took a step back.

  I growled, low in my throat. “Do not run from me, Willow. I will chase and catch you without much effort.” Her scent blazed hotter, the longing of a spaewife, eager for my claim. “I’m warning you, lass. I am more predator than man. But if you do as I say, you will be safe.”

  She gnawed her lips, her thoughts warring across her face. Part of her wanted to run; part of her did not.

  “We will go to the lake,” I told her. “You will stay by my side, and obey. Or do you wish to risk running into the arms of the Grey Men?” The Corpse King’s servants should not come close to this place, but we must take care.

  Shuddering, she shook her head. “I give you my word. I will not run.”

  “Then, come.” At first, she ignored my outstretched hand, so I took her wrist instead.

  Her pulse jumped under my touch. I led her, my cock growing harder with each step. The beast needed to claim, to protect, to dominate. Willow invited all three. I couldn’t imagine anyone more perfect.

  I took her to a little stream that fed the lake, so she could drink the sweet, clear water. She crouched before me, filling her cupped hands. She drank until her pale cheeks flushed pink under her wild black hair. I quenched my thirst, staying alert to our surroundings. My nose told me we remained safe, but the Corpse King had many weapons. If he found us, he might weave a spell and catch us unaware.

  A fox peered at us from the briar. I showed my teeth, and let the predator into my eyes. The creature fled.

  Willow watched me as I studied the black lake through the trees. My wolf preened, enjoying her attention.

  I winked at her, and a little furrow appeared between her eyes. Mine must be golden with the beast’s magic.

  “Are you also…” She paused, licking her lips.

  “A wolf?” I finished for her. “Yes, I am. It is a long story, but I will keep it brief. Brokk and I are warriors of old. We fought for a king in the North Lands. He sent a band of his greatest warriors to a witch, thinking her spells would make us mighty.” I fell silent for a moment. I didn’t wish to explain the pride, the fierce elation at being chosen to become the best of the best. Or the horror when we woke and felt the beast stir within us, our hands still bloody from the first slaughter of innocents, our lives forever cursed.

  “Did her spells work?”

  “They made us very powerful, but power always carries a price.”

  I took her wrist again and we walked around the castle.

  “You are Norseman?”

  “Yes.” I found a tree with hard, green apples and tossed one to her. “We came to this island to claim it for Harald Fair Hair, but remained.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “That king ruled many years ago.”

  “Over a hundred. Our lifespans have been lengthened. An effect of dealing with magic.”

  She paled again.

  “You’ve heard of Harald Fair Hair. You know your history?”

  She gave a stiff nod. “A few traveling monks visited the abbey. They were kind to the orphans and taught my friend and I a few things.”

  “Tell me about your friends.”

  “My friends?”

  I nodded.

  “We all came at different times and ages. My closest friends are Sage, Laurel, and Ivy. Also Angelica, Sorrel, and Rosalind, but they are younger.”

  I bit into my apple. “All orphans?”

  “Some came when their parents died. Others came from families with too many children to feed. Their parents gave them up—those are the ones who aren’t named for plants. Sage and I came as babes.” She toyed with her apple, adding in a low voice, “I never knew my mother.”

  I tossed my apple core away. Brokk and I had left our family behind so long ago we didn’t remember them. I could not comfort her, but soon there would be no need. Brokk and I would be her family.

  “All of you are spaewives.”

  The furrow between her brows returned. “Everyone living at the abbey?”

  “Perhaps not all of the holy women, but certainly all of the orphans. The friar only took in female orphans, correct?”

  She nodded.

  “I would stake my life on it. You all have a natural magic, an affinity with the earth. Do any of you make herbs or tinctures? Medicines your priest frowned upon because they always seem to work?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “We all do, but that is part of our duties. We’re not witches.”

  “Spaewives aren’t quite witches. Your magic comes from deep inside.”

  Willow wrung her hands, staring at the ground.

  “We will not know what special abilities you have. But you have time to learn. There is one more sign, the mark of a spaewife ready to come into her full power.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The mating heat,” I drawled, and savored her expression.

  Pink flooded her cheeks. I should not enjoy taunting her, but she responded so prettily.

  “I do not know anything about that.” She whirled and began the climb back to the keep.

  When I caught her arm, she resisted. “Careful, little captive.” I tapped my nose. “Wolves can smell a lie.” I leaned in closer. “Do you know what else we can smell?”

  Her deep blush was quite fetching. I almost sent the image to Brokk before I remembered he still blocked me.

  “The heat allows you to bind forever to a magical creature. That’s why the Corpse King seeks you so fervently. He wants you to be his bride.”

  She laughed, a shaky sound.

  “What is it, Willow?”

  “Nothing.” She shook her head. “A day ago, I had barely spoken to a man. Now you tell me a mage wants to marry me. It is unbelievable.”

  “Why?” I asked, and when she didn’t answer, I said, “The mage is not the only one who seeks you for this purpose.”

  Her head snapped up. “You mean—”

 
“Aye, Willow. You are the perfect Berserker bride.”

  Willow

  “Berserker?” I squeaked. “Is that what you are?”

  “Yes.” Leif’s grin was white and pointy.

  I tugged my hand away from him. “So I am to be your bride.”

  He inclined his head, still smug. I wanted to slap his face.

  “And we live where? Here?” I cast a hand towards the ruins. The place seemed fitting enough. Isolated, wild. “Or in a forest den?”

  Leif’s face tightened. “No. We’re taking you to the mountain, our home. We will live near the rest of the pack, in a lodge we’ll build for you.” His fingers caught a strand of my hair and tucked it behind my ear. His voice softened a touch. “You belong to us, Willow, and above all, we care for our mate.”

  I took a deep breath. “All right.” How could I argue? Each passing moment they told me something more outrageous than the last.

  I’d spent the day thinking of how I could escape. The best plan I’d come up with was to bide my time and befriend them until they dropped their guard. But the full moon rose tonight. What would I do then?

  Leif prowled behind me as I climbed up the hill to the keep. The hair on the back of my neck raised as if a silent predator stalked me. Which, I supposed, one did.

  I sat on the broken wall while the warrior built up the fire. I shouldn’t indulge myself watching him, but I did anyway. His stunning face drew my eye. His hands made quick work of the chores, strong and sure. I couldn’t help imagining them stroking my breasts. And his every glance my way sparked fire, as quickly as the flames caught the brush he’d stacked in the center of the keep.

  The moon rose slowly, along with my dread. Soon, my heat would come upon me, and I would have a new captor to resist—my own lust.

  My skin prickled. Leif stood behind me, his scent wafting my way. “What are you thinking about, Willow?” His hair brushed my shoulder, his breath warming my ear.

  “Nothing.” I turned my back on the setting sun. Leif stood close enough we almost touched. I put my hands behind my back so I would not yield to temptation.

  He cocked his head. “You have not fought me yet.”

  “Should I?”

  “I expected you to refuse to become our mate. If you have doubts, I’ll do my best to convince you.” He smirked, his canines on display.

  “I thought the friar planned to sell us to any man who offered a bride price great enough to tempt him to give up his source of free labor at the looms or in the apothecary.” I shrugged and worded my words so I did not lie but still made Leif think I wasn’t planning on running away. “Everything we were taught prepared us to accept our fate. This is no different.” Except my heart leaped whenever I came near him or Brokk. Energy buzzed through me as if my skin anticipated their touch. I crossed my arms over my chest. “Even the friar sometimes took what he wanted from us. He never touched me, but he told us we must submit to a man’s desires.”

  Leif glared at me. “We are nothing like the friar. We will not force you, or touch you until you are ready. Your body will burn until you cry out and ask for our hands upon you.”

  With a half gasp, half sob, I pulled away. How had he known my thoughts?

  Leif continued in a softer voice, “You will not submit to our desires but your own.”

  “It’s wrong,” I said. “You have the wrong woman. You should take me back.” Maybe I could convince them to let me go. I could find a way to survive, beg for work. I’d find a new village and become a servant to earn my keep. “You do not want me.”

  Fingers curled around my arm, tugging me to face him once more. I couldn’t fight, but I refused to meet his gaze.

  “Willow,” he murmured. “You do not know how much we want you. No matter. It is our delight to teach you. We’ve been searching for one such as you from the moment the witch cursed us.”

  “What?”

  “A part of us is tainted. We call it the beast, and it struggles to break free. When it does, it will rage upon this island. Kill every living thing and turn it into a wasteland, much like the Corpse King wishes to do. You are the only one who stands in its way. The only one who can tame our beast.”

  “Me? How can I? I do not even know my own power.”

  “You do not but you will learn,” he said. “It will be our honor to teach you.”

  “What about my sister orphans? What will the pack…?”

  Leif watched me patiently.

  “No.” I backed away.

  “It’s all right, Willow. They are safe. They will be mated to my friends, who will treat them with care.”

  “You must let them go.” My argument would not sway him, but I had to try. Sage would not want to be a bride. She would not even want a man to touch her. I didn’t, either, but my body had a will of its own.

  “They will not be harmed,” Leif soothed.

  “You don’t understand. It is better for us to be secluded, away from the presence of men.”

  “You do not like men?” Leif cocked his head to the side. “Then why is the air filled with your scent?”

  The shadows hid my blush. “Please don’t speak of that,” I whispered.

  “Are you afraid, little one?” Leif frowned.

  “She’s not afraid of us,” a deep voice rang out from beyond the wall. “She’s afraid of herself.”

  Brokk

  I strode around the broken stones, bowed under the weight of the huge buck I’d slaughtered. The last of the dying sun’s rays followed me as I traipsed to the fire and slung my kill down.

  “Any trouble on the hunt?” Leif asked.

  I grunted negative. I’d spent the afternoon gutting and preparing the carcass, hanging it from a high branch to drain out while my wolf enjoyed the offal. The buck would feed us for a while. The next time I wanted to leave, I’d have to come up with a new excuse.

  “We shall have a feast,” Leif announced, eyes shining.

  “I’ll cut branches to make a spit,” he continued, drawing his axe and hopping over the wall nearest the lake. An ordinary man wouldn’t survive the drop, but, a moment later, his red head bobbed towards the forest.

  Coward. I called after him.

  It’s your turn to woo her. He’d already forgiven me for leaving him alone with the woman for so long.

  Willow rushed halfway to the wall Leif had jumped over, but stopped short of passing me. “Is he all right?”

  “Yes. Do not trouble yourself about him. Not much can kill a Berserker.” I’d caught some of their conversation via the bond. Leif kept his mind open to me, as if the rat knew I could not resist spying.

  I went about readying the buck for the fire. Willow hung back. For a moment, I thought she might speak about the morning’s events, but she said nothing.

  You can talk to her, too, you know. Leif sent.

  “Odin’s beard, will you never be quiet?”

  “What?” Willow asked.

  “Nothing.” Better I stay silent, lest I frighten our captive and send her running to cry in Leif’s arms again. The memory made my motions savage. I tore the buck’s legs off before I realized an ordinary man would never be able to do such a thing.

  Willow’s face paled under her few freckles, but she hadn’t yet fled.

  “Sorry,” I muttered and moved to block her view of my work.

  She paced closer. Back and forth, back and forth, and the dying bonfire crackled to life. Once Willow had finished feeding it, she dusted off her hands, standing closer to me than I expected.

  I hated how excited she made me feel.

  “You left for a long time,” she said.

  I grunted.

  “This is a large buck,” she added after a few minutes. “Are we to stay here long?”

  “Long enough. We can kill the Grey Men, but there are many of them, and we will not risk your safety. Leif told you the truth. We have searched many years to find women who could break our curse. We will not risk you. This is the first time we found so many G
rey Men in one place.”

  “The Corpse King.” Leif returned, carrying a sapling stripped clean. “He likes to collect spaewives.”

  “Collect us?”

  “Yes.” I fixed her with a stern look. “He hunts you still, so it is important you stay close and heed every word we say.”

  She swallowed and hovered near as we spitted the buck.

  “Why would he want us?”

  “He feeds his magic with the blood of spaewives,” I said.

  Brokk, Leif cautioned. “You have magic, Willow. You are of a special race.”

  “You don’t believe us?” I asked.

  Willow shook her head. “You are the first to tell me of this.”

  “It’s true, Willow,” Leif said. “You came to the abbey as a babe—”

  “Because my mother gave me up—”

  “She did not give you up,” I snapped. “I wager the Grey Men sensed her magical blood, took her, and left you in the abbey to grow up.”

  I knew I’d said the wrong thing when Willow turned whiter.

  “My mother,” she whispered.

  I remembered too late what she had seen in the village. Her face screwed up, and she turned away.

  Why did you say such a thing? Leif asked, rushing to her side.

  I scowled.

  “Come here, lass. It’s all right. You’re all right.”

  “No.” She wiped her eyes. “You’re lying to me. I won’t listen to you.” She ran from the keep.

  “Go to her.” Leif clenched his fists at his side, dark fur rippling down his arms. His eyes glowed. His beast lurked too close for him to chase her.

  Still, I balked. “Me? What can I do?”

  “Use your words. Calm her.”

  I shook my head. I did not know how to be sweet and caring. I was a warrior. I knew nothing of wooing a woman. But I’d do anything to stop her weeping.

  Willow sat on a low wall on the edge of the keep, facing the lake. She still wore the pelt about her shoulders, clutching it close. The gesture gave me hope.

 

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