Captured by the Berserkers: A menage shifter romance (Berserker Brides Book 2)

by Lee Savino

“Easy, lass,” Leif said without looking up. “I can smell your excitement from here.”

  Pressing my legs together, I let out a little whimper. “Will you not let me go?”

  He met my eyes a moment. All hope died in me at the hunger burning there. I sagged in my bonds. Soon I would not be able to beg him to free me. The desire in my body would match his, taking over my mind, consuming my very soul. How many nights had I dreamt of a man like him come to sate me? He’d find me in the darkness, his touch gentle and strong. Everything about his hard-muscled form would satisfy. We’d lie together, each touch a secret promise too precious for our mouths to utter. Morning would find us twined together, me safe in his arms.

  My sigh came out a little moan.

  When I raised my head again, the warrior’s eyes burned gold.

  “Keep it up, lass, and I’ll have you on your back in a second. See if I don’t. We made an oath not to touch you until you were ready, but there’s only so much a man can take.”

  I tucked my head down, struggling to keep everything inside, even as a trickle of wetness ran down my leg.

  “It’s not my fault,” I whispered. But the moon rose higher. When the heat came upon me, how would I explain?

  “Brokk better get back soon,” the warrior muttered, and continued to feed the fire. He cut a handsome figure in the low light, the finest-looking man I’d ever seen. Long legs, broad shoulders, profile sharp and elegant.

  I licked my lips. “You made an oath?”

  “Aye.” A muscle jumped in his cheek. “We all did.”

  He rose, and I noted the outline of his member straining against his breeches.

  The warrior cleared his throat, and I forced my gaze up. “What do you want with me?”

  Leif parted his lips as if to answer then snapped his head to the right. A second later, he leapt to his feet, kicking the fire out.

  “Come, lass.” He slashed my bonds and drew me up.

  “What is it?”

  “The enemy.” Smoke plumed from the dying blaze, and the contents of his pack lay scattered about, but Leif did not stop. He pushed me ahead of him, plunging us both into the forest. I cried out as branches tore at my arms, but he didn’t slow.

  “What enemy?”

  Leif led me to the road. I heard it then—hissing. I wrinkled my nose at the stench of rotting flesh.

  “The Corpse King.” Leif pulled me across the road at a run. “He is coming for you.”

  LEIF

  They’re here, I sent to Brokk. The draugr. I sense them coming up the road.

  Brokk cursed. They’re at my back, as well. We are surrounded.

  I pulled the woman into a crouch behind a boulder. With our escape cut off, we had to find a place to hide. How did they get here so fast?

  The area must be under watch. No matter. We must find a way to get Willow out.

  Not going to fight me on whether or not she’s our mate? I joked, but Brokk responded, blunt and serious as usual.

  Later. When there is time.

  I did not argue. I shouldn’t be surprised Brokk put up resistance towards our newfound mate, even though it had been a long time since we’d had a woman.

  “What—” Willow started, and I clamped a hand on her mouth.

  “Silence. Something’s coming.”

  The hiding place I’d chosen gave me a view of the road. Mist swept up the ancient path, strange for such a warm, fine night. I muttered a curse. The Corpse King had spells to control the weather.

  I forced her head against my chest. “Be very quiet, lass. I know you don’t trust me, but there’s evil in this world beyond your ken, and I’ll do my best to shield you from it.”

  Instead of resisting, she shuffled closer to me. She tucked her head down, and I stroked her hair to soothe her.

  Another minute passed, and the fog on the road thickened. The hissing grew louder. Whatever came towards us seemed to fly past, faster than I’d known Grey Men to move.

  Chills crawled up and down my skin.

  “Down, lass.” I pushed Willow to the ground and covered her with my body. The air over my back grew cold. I choked on the thick, rotten stench. Above our heads, the trees creaked, straining under the tainted wind. The beast in me pushed to the fore, ready to fight against the evil sweeping over us.

  I waited until the wind died and the forest stilled once more.

  “All right. It’s passed.”

  At my side, Willow panted, her heartbeat a frightened tattoo.

  “What was that thing?”

  “I do not know,” I told her. “The Corpse King has much power.”

  “All right.” Her teeth clacked together in the sudden cold. I wished for the pelt to toss around her shoulders, but I’d left it in my haste to escape. How foolish to think us safe enough to stop for the night.

  My hand brushed the woman’s hair back from her face. If I focused, I could almost sense the path of her blood through her body, running sweet and free as a river to the sea. If I put my mouth on her throat, her pulse would flutter under my tongue, inviting the prick of my fangs.

  My spine tingled, my limbs prickling with the magic of the Change. Rage filled me, white hot and delicious, a flow of tainted power transforming me into a beast strong enough to rip apart the draugr—and more. I blinked, and my vision turned red. A new enemy in the grove with us—tearing and clawing to escape the cage of my mind.

  Brokk. I reached to him. I need you. We’d spent over a century aiding each other in restraining our beasts. He knew what would happen if my beast took hold, and would not refuse me, even if we disagreed over taking a mate.

  I’m coming, brother. I sensed him crashing through the forest, desperate to get to me in time. Hang on. Don’t lose control.

  I dug my nails into my palms, feeling the prick as they turned into razor-like claws. Over a hundred years waiting for the woman who could lift the curse, and now that she sat here by my side, it may be too late.

  WILLOW

  “Stay here,” Leif growled and leapt to his feet. He tied my tether to a small tree. “And keep quiet, no matter what evil you see.”

  “Wait,” I cried. Something changed. His form was hunched and rigid, every muscle tensed. “Are you going to fight them?”

  He paused with his back to me. “Frightened for me, lass?” His rough guttural voice was tempered with a touch of teasing.

  I hugged my knees to my chest. I should want to escape this warrior, but I did not want him to leave.

  “Do not fear, little captive. I will scout the area and return. If you remain here, I can keep you safe.” He vanished into the forest.

  Alone, I sat in a shroud of silence. The normal night sounds—the creaking of insects, the hoot of an owl—receded. Dread hung in the air.

  Darkness pressing on me, I waited, huddled where the warrior had put me. I could escape if I undid the tether, but my instincts told me to stay still. Even if I ran, the warrior would track me down, and he seemed more dangerous than any other enemy, even the Corpse King he’d spoken of.

  A shadow moved by my side. Jerking up, I screamed, but a hard hand slapped over my mouth, muffling the sound.

  “Quiet,” a voice muttered in my ear. Brokk.

  I sagged against him, almost sobbing with relief. His scent filled my lungs, fresh and tantalizing. Pressed against his hard chest, my body remembered its arousal.

  He dropped his pack on the ground and examined my tether.

  “Leif is gone,” I whispered.

  Undoing my lead from the tree, he hunkered down, pulling me with him under the shelter of a hemlock. I obeyed, holding my breath.

  Unlike the redheaded warrior, Brokk offered no kind word, no reassuring touch. These men had captured me, yet I expected comfort from them. Leif made it clear I tempted him. Brokk didn’t seem to like me.

  Still, I shifted close to him, feeling safer by his side.

  “It’s so quiet,” I whispered after a few heavy minutes. “There are no birds.”

&
nbsp; “They sense the presence of evil,” Brokk replied.

  “Something came up the road,” I whimpered. “I couldn’t see because Leif covered me, but I felt it. He said it’s coming for me.” My voice died in a frightened squeak.

  “I know, Willow.” His tone remained stern, but he tugged the lead, drawing me to a kneeling position at his side. I relaxed in the shelter of his great body.

  “It’s after me?”

  “Yes. Hush.”

  We waited in silence until Leif slipped in beside us.

  “You got the bedroll?” he rasped. His eyes glinted with an eldritch gold light.

  “Everything. They still may track her scent.” Brokk nodded at me, and I felt ashamed. “We need to get back to the mountain.”

  “Too late now,” Leif said. “I scouted, and there’s another force of draugr coming down the road. How did the Corpse King even know we’d raided the abbey?”

  Brokk snorted. “The friar sent word, trying to save his wretched arse. Rolf and Thorbjorn chased him, but he locked himself in the scullery, and did a small spell to alert his master before they broke down the door. His workings didn’t save him.”

  “He’s dead?” I blurted.

  “Aye,” Brokk answered me. “Our fellow warriors did the deed.”

  My breath left in a rush. The nightmare who’d haunted my days was gone. But Sage and my friends had fallen into the hands of these strange warriors.

  “We must be off. They are coming,” Leif said. I let him pull me close. His hands slid around me, his touch already familiar. “We will hide until we are sure the Grey Men will not follow us.”

  “Grey Men?” I asked.

  “They are corpses,” Brokk said. “Men one step beyond the veil of death, animated by a mage’s evil power.”

  “How is that possible?” I whispered.

  “He is an ancient king with magic of old.” Leif clutched me tighter, and I snuggled into his arms, my fingers gripping his smooth muscle. His scent surrounded me—a pleasing blend of woodsmoke and wild mint, with a hint of spice. “He has been defeated and locked in a near-death state, but over time found a way to fight. Like a spider drawing in his prey on the web, he sent his power out to create these Grey Men. They somehow convinced the friar to do his bidding. The Corpse King is coming back to life.”

  “He’s found a new source of power and is coming after it,” Brokk said.

  “What source?” I asked.

  Brokk glanced back, his eye glowing with a yellow light. “You.”

  LEIF

  Stop scaring her, I sent to my warrior brother with a frown.

  She needs to know the truth. Out loud, he said, “We need to find water. The Grey Men do not like it.”

  “There’s a marsh nearby.” We knew the terrain from our time staking out the abbey.

  “It may be enough. But we’d better find a river, or better yet, a lake.”

  Willow’s breath came in ragged gasps as we threaded through the woods. Brokk led, and I brought up the rear, touching her often to reassure her.

  The thicket gave way to a ragged patch of reeds and muddy water. We went in, picking our way over the soggy terrain. The mud sucked at my boots, and I bit back a curse. If we were lucky, the swamp would be enough to deter the Corpse King’s servants.

  Brokk stopped then turned with a finger to his lips.

  More draugr ahead. The wind blowing in our face holds their scent. They’re hemming us in. Unless we cross the marsh, we need to hunker down and hope the Grey Men do not sense us. Brokk sounded brisk. We’d faced hopeless situations before. He stood aloof, away from me and the woman.

  “We hide here until they pass and then continue on,” I said out loud for Willow’s benefit.

  Brokk nodded. We all hunkered down for an uneasy wait. The sound of footsteps, a force of many men coming towards us, their stench on the wind. The beast leapt to the fore. I shut my eyes, willing it not to break free.

  Leif?

  I’m fine. I turned my head against the wind, and caught the scent of Willow’s hair. Such a small and lovely little thing, trembling beside us with a fierce expression on her face. She’d been through so much tonight, and remained brave. I had to hang on, for her.

  We can fight, Brokk offered. From his brittle tone, he did not think it a good idea. Even if we did clear a path for our escape, letting our beasts out tempted danger.

  There’s too many of them. I put a hand over my mouth and nose as a strong breeze blew up more of their stench. The Corpse King sent a great force.

  He will do anything to possess his future brides.

  A growl escaped me before I could stop it. Willow stiffened.

  “Calm,” Brokk murmured to both of us.

  From where we crouched, the road shone in the moonlight. The force of draugr came up the path, macabre soldiers marching with jerky motions. A few had spears and swords, but most had pitchforks and staffs, ordinary items made into weapons. Rank upon rank trod towards us. How had the Corpse King conjured up such a force, so fast?

  Odin’s boots. They’re not Grey Men. At least, their skin is not grey.

  I craned my head over the marsh grasses. As Brokk said, the force did not look as thin and sallow as the Grey Men we’d faced before. These were men of all ages, with ruddy skin and blank expressions, wearing the garb of villagers.

  The silent ranks passed not a few paces from where we hid, over a hundred of them. Brokk’s intent face told me he was counting.

  These draugr stink of blood, but not rotting flesh, I said, when more than half had passed.

  They haven’t been dead long. Brokk sounded more grim than usual.

  A chill went through me.

  The ranks had thinned when Willow sat up. “Joseph!” The name burst from her lips.

  I pulled her down. “Quiet, lass.”

  But she struggled. “Wait. I know him from the village.” I clapped my hand over her mouth.

  “Stop,” I hissed in her ear. She squawked in distress, loud enough to alert the enemy and arouse the beast.

  Brokk put his face close to hers, his expression stern enough to make a man cower.

  “You will be still. We are all in danger.”

  She shook her head as much as she could with my hand over her mouth but stopped struggling.

  “The man you think you know? It is not him. Joseph is gone. The Corpse King’s magic took his life and his mind and made him a tool of evil.”

  With a muffled cry, she sagged against me.

  Too harsh? Brokk asked me.

  I shook my head. Her eagerness to help her friend might be our death. If the enemy didn’t march a mere few feet away, I’d put her over my knee and punish her. I shared this image with Brokk, and a corner of his mouth creased. Perhaps punishing her would be his role, if it enticed him to accept our mate.

  BROKK

  I glared at Willow until she dropped her gaze. Wolves abide by strict rules of dominance, and we both knew she ceded to mine. But she must not only recognize my rule. She must obey. If I’d already accepted her as mate, she’d be in for a punishment. Once we found safety, I’d take a strap to her backside until it blazed red...

  Careful, one part of me chastened. You have played this game before. I was one of the few Berserkers who remembered the folly of love. It ended in sorrow.

  The Grey Men had almost all passed.

  Perhaps I would take a strap to her, for her punishment and my pleasure. My beast couldn’t wait to see her bared before us.

  My cock perked up at the idea. I gritted my teeth.

  “Little woman, you will obey,” I told her in a harsh whisper. “You will do as we say and be quiet.”

  She shrank against Leif, and he put his arms around her. I turned from the pretty couple. Women always ran to Leif.

  This is not the same, Leif said to me. We will share her in all things.

  I shook my head. We couldn’t have this conversation while our enemies passed a few feet away.

  Not
if we cannot fight our way away from the Grey Men.

  For a moment, I wished Leif and I weren’t bonded. If I had a choice, I should not share a woman, but the bond between us required we take the same mate.

  You’re glaring at her again, Leif told me. I blanked my features.

  At this point, Willow is more frightened of us than the Grey Men. Talk to her. Tell her what’s going on. Soothe her.

  I did not have the gift for such sweet words. You do it.

  She is to be your mate, as much as mine. Leif raised his chin.

  The last of the Grey Men had marched on.

  “Forgive me,” I said to the frightened girl. “I am used to giving orders and having them obeyed. We are hiding because the Corpse King sent his servants to get you. They are dead men. Animated souls.” The woman shivered. Leif put his arm around her.

  “I don’t understand. What does he want with me?” she asked.

  “He seeks all spaewives for his own. He desires your power. He had you contained in the abbey and planned to take you one by one, to consume your power by draining your blood—”

  “Enough,” Leif interrupted. “Willow, listen to me. All you need know is you must stay with us and follow our lead.” We can explain the rest later, he sent to me.

  I drew in a breath, inhaling the woman’s rich scent. At least the Grey Men hadn’t sensed her. Under the miasma of mud and the draugr’s stink, I smelled her heat, but it was faint. I wished we were far away, back at our home or somewhere safe where we could explore her body’s wanton reaction to us.

  “Let us go,” I commanded. Leif nodded and rose. He would carry the woman so we could travel at Berserker speed.

  “You will be quiet,” I said to her. “We must travel past the village to escape.”

  “We must take care,” Leif muttered. “There will be Grey Men everywhere.”

  “Let us hope they will not expect us.”

  I reached out to try to link to the pack, but the mental path felt blocked. I cannot reach the Alphas, I told Leif. The frown on his face told me he couldn’t, either.