by Lee Savino
I sat down on the wall, some distance from her.
“I apologize. I often say or do the wrong thing. They call me Stone Face,” I admitted. “I am like a rock in battle, but I have a clumsy tongue.”
She smiled a little but without joy.
“It’s all so much.” She wiped her eyes.
I heaved a sigh.
Go to her, Leif said. Put your arm around her.
Get out of my head, I told him, but without malice.
“Come to me,” I ordered, and held out a hand to her. She shied at first. I watched her gnaw her lip then decide. Picking up her skirts, she did as I bid.
I did not wait for her to protest. I folded her into my arms, holding her head to my chest. She quivered and stilled. With a little sigh, Willow relaxed her soft body against me. I waited a blissful minute, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair. Our hearts thumped as one.
“I am not a kind man,” I told her. “My words are a dull knife. I am not clever like Leif. But I will tell you this, Willow.” Shifting, I gathered her hair back so my hand could cradle her throat. “If I had known the day the Grey Men came to take you from your mother, I would’ve watched over you then. From this day forward, your enemies are my enemies, and nothing can stand against a Berserker.”
Leif
The giant deer roasting for our supper did much to lift our moods. Willow stayed quiet, threading her fingers together or plucking at the pelt she wore around her shoulders. Yet, after all she’d been through, she appeared to accept her captivity.
When she picked at her food, Brokk shook his head.
“You will eat more,” he commanded, spearing another portion and hovering over her, arms crossed over his chest, until she gulped it down. I hid my grin. The two of them were growing closer. It didn’t matter if Brokk acted gruff and overbearing. Willow had begun to trust.
“Have an onion.” I speared one and handed it to her, still on the knife. We’d found a few wild ones and roasted them in the embers.
“I’m full,” she muttered, but when I shook the root at her, she took it and chewed without further argument.
“Good, lass. We’ll fatten you up in no time.”
She rolled her eyes, but as Brokk and I kept devouring the meat, she stretched out on the pelts, hand on her stomach, and sighed, a happy sound. My wolf felt satisfied; our mate seemed content.
“Full moon tonight,” Brokk remarked.
Willow jerked and shot to her feet. Alarmed, Brokk and I half rose as well, alert for danger.
“What is it, lass?”
“The m-moon,” she stammered. “I must…you must stay away.”
I frowned. “Why? What is happening?”
“The fever…it takes me. I do not know what it is,” she admitted. “I have prayed many times for release.”
“What are the symptoms of this fever?” Brokk asked. He and I shared the same thought.
“Please don’t make me tell you.”
I let out a low growl, not directed at her. My wolf grew agitated, scenting her fear, and it roused the beast.
Stay calm, brother, Brokk opened his mind to me, sharing his control. Out loud he said, “Tell us, Willow.”
We waited, and when the woman said nothing, he continued, “Tell us of this heat that comes over you. Do you feel it in your breast and in your cunny?”
I did not need full light to see the flush creep across her face.
She nodded.
“It’s not sickness. There is nothing wrong with you, or any other woman who suffers from it. The heat is one of the reasons you are fit to be a Berserker bride. Your scent calls to us,” Brokk said. “It both arouses and soothes the beast. Submit to us, and you will be well.”
Her head jerked no.
“Yes.” Brokk stalked behind her, blocking her escape in case she darted out of the keep and ran. “We can heal your fever.”
“How?”
“We will fuck you until you cannot walk.”
Willow went rigid.
I glared at Brokk. Didn’t we decide I would be the one to explain things?
I speak the truth.
The truth comes better from a silver tongue.
I cleared my throat. “Don’t fear, lass. We took an oath not to touch you before your time.” One we will uphold.
Brokk nodded.
“What Brokk tried to tell you, lass, is whatever you need, we’ll give to you. How do you wish us to help? We will do what we can to ease your suffering. We are your mates. We will see to your every need.” See, Brokk? Gentle words. Sweet tone.
“I don’t need anything from you,” she said, with a spark of the fierceness I’d first noticed in her. She kept it buried, beaten-down, but it was there. She glanced behind her at Brokk cutting off her escape, and despair rose in her scent.
“No? What about the Corpse King? Do you think he would be able to resist the scent of your sweet cunt? Your heat calls to him, as it does to us.”
“I’d give him a week to find you,” Brokk growled.
Willow’s features twisted in pain. I longed to comfort her, but we had to make her understand. “We will not let him take you. You are ours, and ours alone. But the day will come when your heat will be too much, and then you will beg us to ease it. You must.”
She shook her head, her hands clenched into fists. “I hate this,” she whispered, too low for us to hear. “I hate it. I hate myself.”
“Come here, Willow,” Brokk ordered. To my surprise, she went to him. He caught her chin between two fingers. “You’re our mate. I know you do not believe it, but soon you will know it, deep down. And we will care for you.” Each word came out a command, and Willow relaxed further, her eyes growing hooded. “Tell me you understand.”
“I understand,” she breathed. Her body, her submissive nature responded to Brokk’s orders, even if her mind struggled. His hand slid to the back of her neck, collaring the fragile stem. Her shoulder relaxed, and her breathing calmed.
My cock throbbed in my breeches. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with her delicious scent.
“Good,” Brokk almost purred. “When the heat comes on you, you will be safe. We will watch over you and make sure nothing happens.”
“But—” she blurted, and stopped.
“What is it?”
She hung her head. “What I do…the way I act…it is unseemly.”
Again, he tipped up her chin. “We are your mates. With us, you need not hide.”
Willow
I sat on the wall, my arms wrapped around my knees, facing the moon. The comforting weight of the wolf pelt rested on my shoulders. Behind me, the two men sat by the fire, talking. They spoke of hunting and laying traps, and of the many birds nesting near the lake. Every once in a while, they’d pause, and my back would prickle as I felt them watching me. Grateful they kept their distance, I didn’t need them to come close to make me aware of their presence. My thoughts revolved around them in endless circles.
What could I do? My body ached, wet and ready. Soon the moon would pull me into her embrace. I’d come into heat and lose all good sense.
I had to slip away. Not far. I wasn’t unwise enough to try to escape and risk falling into the hands of the Grey Men. But I had to hide away for the night.
I rose and announced, “I am ready for bed.”
The warriors watched me head to the pelts. Either the light played tricks, or their eyes really did glow in the moonlight.
I lay down, body throbbing. Soon my heat would take me, and I would long to fling the pelt from me and strip off my shift. I braided and rebraided a length of my hair until footsteps crunched near my head, and I forced myself to lay still.
A part of me hoped they would shift into wolves. Even though I’d been afraid of Brokk’s transformation, I couldn’t deny I felt more at ease around him in his canine shape. The magic had been…startling. I’d seen so many awful and shocking things since leaving the abbey, the warriors’ power seemed almost comforting. They sai
d they’d protect me, and, for some reason, I believed them.
Besides, Brokk smiled more as a wolf.
A large body lay down next to me. I fought not to stiffen. Another settled on the other side of me. They had me trapped.
The thought made me tense and excited at the same time.
“Calm, lass,” Leif murmured. “We’ll protect you this night.”
Neither of the warriors touched me. Nor did they speak again. I kept my eyes closed, and after a time, their breathing evened.
It would be wise for me to wait, so I stayed as long as I dared. Lying there, curled up between them like a seed in a pod, I felt warm, safe. At home. But the moon rose higher with every passing second. My flesh tuned to the light, trembling with wanton energy.
The longer I lay, the more the slow, inexorable ache built in my breasts and between my legs. I could smell my musky arousal, but I no longer felt embarrassed. The warriors had stolen me from my home and insisted on keeping me. Let them suffer.
A part of me wished they hadn’t sworn the oath. It would be so easy to roll either to the left or the right and tuck my arm around a broad shoulder. My lips would find theirs, delighting in the rasp of their short beards on my tender skin. They were large and heavy with muscle. I longed for the weight on top of my small form, pinning me down, grounding me, their touch both satisfying and driving me wild.
A gasp escaped my lips, unbidden. I clenched my fists, fighting not to touch between my legs. In the shed, I used to lock myself up so I could not reach my nethers. In the morning, Sage would release me, and I’d hidden the red marks on my wrists and ankles under a long-sleeved gown.
The abbey was so distant, many leagues away. My time there seemed almost a dream, and this moment, lying between two warriors, so real. I heard every breath, felt every sigh as a tremor through my own body. My senses heightened as they’d never been. The heat denied by the events of last night descended, tenfold.
When I could resist no longer, I rose and snuck away. Without glancing back to make sure the warriors were still sleeping, I climbed over the wall and dropped onto the soft green turf below. Let them wake and hunt me, if they must. I had to at least try to find privacy, and I had an idea.
Halfway to my destination, I sensed movement behind me. The warriors followed. They made no sound. Did they think I was caught in a trance, lulled by the moon? Perhaps I was.
I ignored their giant creeping shadows. Let them come. Let them watch. Let them want.
Shucking off my shift as I went, I stepped onto the shore of the lake. I’d learned to swim at the abbey, in the little pond full of mud and croaking frogs. The frogs didn’t bother me as I reveled in the warm water, and the other girls stayed away.
Tonight, the water drew me, the lake a black scrying bowl reflecting the silver moon. I walked so far into the water it lapped at my waist.
“Willow,” the warriors called. I stopped and waited until the ripples died away.
The water wrapped my heated body with cold drawn from the deep. The moon limned a path from me to the shore where the warriors stood. I trembled. I was an impure vessel. If I raised my arms, would the moonlight wash me clean?
The friar spoke against the religions of old, the rites of spring. A priestess would lie with a man, the warrior wearing the horns of antler, the goddess and god come together in unholy union. The friar told us this is wrong. But my thoughts returned to it again and again. I felt a deep ache in my loins, a readiness. I desired an evil, cursed ritual. What did that say about me?
“Willow, what are you doing?”
“Fighting the curse,” I called across the water. My teeth chattered.
“Must you fight?”
“I must. I wish it were not like this.”
“Willow.” Brokk squatted on the shore. “Come to me.”
“No.” My plea broke from my lips even as my feet obeyed the warrior’s order. No matter how brutish and awful he seemed, I couldn’t resist his commands. “Please let me hide. I will lose control.” I almost wept.
“No, little one. You must give in. Give yourself to us. Obey, and we will keep you safe.” My tears had dried by the time I reached him. The water parted away from my naked flesh, revealing every inch. Leif still stood in the shadows. He sucked in a breath, but Brokk did not blink.
“How long have you suffered from this heat?”
“Ever since I became a woman, but it has become worse. I cannot hold back. I cannot—”
He hushed me, rising.
I realized I was shivering, not so impervious to the night chill as I’d thought. Brokk stripped off his jerkin and put it on me. It smelled of his manly musk and still held the warmth of his body. The scent would drive me mad.
“I don’t know what to do,” I choked out. “I cannot control it. The Corpse King will find me…”
“Willow, do you wish us to help you? Will you do as we command?”
“Yes. Anything, just help me.”
“You must obey. This is important.” His expression was strained. “You must not fight us,” he rasped. “It entices the beast, and our control is already thin. Promise me.”
“I promise.”
“And you will not hide from us. We will know every thought, every fear, so we can care for you. Do you agree?”
“Yes. Please, I’m so afraid—”
“Hush,” he said and wrapped his arms around me.
“Let’s get her to the fire.” Leif hung back, and, for once, he seemed as sober as Brokk.
Brokk carried me to the keep. He bid me sit on a pelt-draped stone near the fire. Leif kept the blaze high. He left several times and returned with more kindling. Brokk stayed close, chafing my hands and braiding back my hair.
“Tell me what happens.” Brokk glanced at the moon, still high on her celestial throne. “We need to know what to expect.”
“I ache.” I touched my chest. “Through and through. My body grows hot. I need to find some way to cool it.”
“Your scent grows enticing,” Leif muttered.
Brokk waved a hand to silence his friend. “What else, Willow?”
“My breasts, my loins…everything aches with longing. I want what I should not want.”
“Why do you resist?”
I shook my head. “It is not right. I must not let it control me. And yet...there are things I want.”
The warriors exchanged glances.
I grew frantic. “You must not touch me. You must not.”
Brokk held up a hand and I fell silent. “I give you my word, Willow. We will not touch you. Not this night, even if you beg for it.”
“Thank you.” I relaxed.
“Now”—he settled back a few feet from where I sat—“part your legs.”
I froze.
“Do as I say, and I will keep you safe, even from yourself.”
My heartbeat picked up, but I could not refuse him. His jerkin came to mid-thigh, but when I parted my legs, it drew up higher. They could see my wet center. My shame. I let out a little sob.
“Touch yourself.”
“What?”
“Put your hand between your legs, as you long to do.” He cocked his head to the side. “Have you never touched yourself?”
“No,” I whispered. To do so was forbidden. When the friar found girls touching themselves, he locked them away. Sage and I avoided punishment because we hid.
“Do it now, Willow,” Brokk ordered. “Your captors command it.”
With a half-hitched breath, I hovered my hand over my throbbing center, but I could not touch it.
“This is wrong.” A whine broke from my lips.
“Easy, lass. Start higher. Touch your face,” Leif said. “Just a finger. Run it over your lips. Are they soft?”
“Yes.”
“Now lower.” Brokk’s voice deepened. “Trail it down your neck, above your breasts. Now in between. Do you want to touch your nipples?”
“Yes.”
“You may not. You do not have per
mission.”
I whimpered. The stern tone in his voice made fluid gush from my cunny. My breasts throbbed, longing for attention. “You will not touch your breasts unless by our command. Soon, you will beg us to fondle them.” As he spoke, my nipples grew tight.
I let out a whimper.
“You will obey, or you will be punished,” Brokk said. “Now, slide your hand lower, over your belly. Between your legs. And…stop. What do you feel?”
“Wet,” I answered. “Heat.”
“What you are touching now belongs to us.” Brokk’s voice deepened to a growl. “At the abbey, you bound yourself with shackles. Now, you will obey us, or we will bind you. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” My heart beat faster. I felt a responding prickle between my legs.
“Stroke yourself gently,” Leif commanded. “Just the barest touch of your fingers.”
“Now lift them,” Brokk said, “and touch them to your tongue.”
I did as he ordered, trembling. I tasted a little sweet. When I told them this, both the warriors groaned.
“All right, Willow. You’re doing well.” Brokk shifted a little, adjusting his breeches. His brow furrowed with concentration. “Lie on your back.”
I moved as if in a trance and slid down so my bottom rested on the pelt and my head lay on the stone.
“Legs apart,” Brokk rasped, “so we can see you. Rest your hand over your cunny.”
At the slightest pressure, I let out a little sigh.
“You will not do this unless ordered, do you understand?” Brokk’s stern tone sent tingles up and down my body.
“Yes,” I breathed. I should feel frightened, carrying out this forbidden act, but I felt nothing but excitement. His orders made me strong.
“Set your legs apart,” Brokk ordered. “Wider.”
I did as he bid and let my hand trace the outline of my nether lips.
“Hold yourself open. Show me your wetness.”
I did so and someone—maybe Leif—sucked in a breath.
“Beautiful. Continue to stroke up and down. Use two fingers.”