by K. A Knight
If I could pant, I would be. Instead, dots dance in my vision and my arm starts to weaken, but I hold the glass there. He is waiting for me to fight. To prove to myself that I’m alive. To fight for it. To fight him. “Do it, soulmate, you are stronger than this. I can take it all, fucking fight.”
I start to struggle then as anger burns through me, but it’s not enough to get free. He growls, slamming me back harder, my lungs screaming for air. “Fight! Fight like a fucking Berserker. Let me see why you are still alive, why you are a Champion.”
With all the effort I have left in my air-starved body, I slice the glass downwards on his chest, and when blood wells instantly, I realise I cut harder than I intended to, but he just laughs.
“Yes, like that!” he growls.
My fingers spasm and I drop the glass to the floor, reaching out to grip his arm and dig my nails in as I wrap my legs around his waist. I drop forward, dislodging us from the dressing table, and he stumbles back, having to let go of my neck to stop us from falling to the floor. I suck in air, coughing from the sudden inhale of oxygen, and spin away from him. He turns with me, watching me as I steady my breathing. He tilts his head, his eyes wild and his chest heaving as blood pools in his belly button. He’s wild right now, I know it, and I’m going to fucking tame him. He wanted the Champion, he wanted a fight, so he’s going to get one.
Maybe I had forgotten who I was, scared of the way people would look at me. But I now know I am a Berserker. A fighter. A woman. I’m powerful, deadly, and I am a fucking queen. He will be mine—my king and my man. His blood, pain, and heart—all mine. But the most important thing he’s giving me is myself. He’s giving me back my fight, reminding me who I was the day we met. I was a slave with nothing but the will to not fucking die.
My eyes flicker to the bed and a smile turns up the corners of my lips. Still watching him, I step closer and grab the sheet off of it, and rip it down the middle. He watches me as I tie one end around the top left poster of the bed. Crawling across it, I tie the other to the top right before sliding from the bottom of the bed, waiting. Obviously impatient, he prowls towards me, speeding up, and at the last moment I slide to the side, pushing him in the middle of his back. He sprawls onto the bed and I jump onto his back, pinning him. Grabbing his hair, I tilt his head to the side and lean down to whisper in his ear. “You are fucking mine.”
He growls and bucks until I slide to the side and then he flips. I jump back on him, pressing my knees on either side of his hips as I lean down and kiss him, distracting him. He groans into my mouth, sucking at my tongue, before pulling back and biting down on my lower lip. I reach up as he bites my mouth, bucking beneath me to try and dislodge me again. I drop lower, pressing myself over his groin and we both groan into each other’s mouths. My hand touches the edge of the cloth and I grab it, pulling it farther down before tracing down his shoulder to his hand. Gripping both hands, I thrust them upwards, and that’s when he starts to struggle, growling into my mouth. I have to let go of one of his hands to tie the other with the cloth, and he takes the opportunity to grip my hip while I quickly finish tying the knot around his wrist, binding it. Pulling back, I bite down on his lower lip and he moans, thrusting upwards. I press his free hand to the bed next to him and quickly tie that one as well before sitting back on top of him.
He snarls, twisting and bucking, tugging at his restraints to try and free himself. The wood of the posts creak but holds firm, and he lies back, panting, his eyes narrowed on me.
“Soulmate,” he growls, tugging on his bindings again.
Leaning down, I lick at his mouth. “You want me? You’ll get me on my terms. I’m going to ride you as you buck and fight helplessly beneath me. I’m a fucking queen and I take what I want, and what I want is you,” I whisper into his mouth.
Leaning back, I lift up and reach between us, flicking open his pants. He tugs on the bindings again. “I want to touch you!” he rumbles.
Yanking at his trousers, I work them down his thick thighs until I can pull them to his ankles. Unbuckling his boots, he helps me kick them off before he lifts up, so I can pull his trousers fully off and throw them to the floor. I glance up to see him watching me with need so strong I almost falter. His cock is hard and standing at attention, waiting for me.
“Soulmate, you better fucking get up here,” he demands, leaning back onto the bed, finally giving in to me.
Crawling up his body, I stop to lick the tip of his cock, tasting his precum, and he growls again, his hands straining as he tries to reach me. Relenting, I climb up his body and leave my knees on either side of his hips, rubbing my wet pussy along his straining cock. I almost whimper. “I forgot how big you are,” I admit.
He gnashes his teeth then, straining to reach me like a caged animal. Groaning at the sight, I sit up and grab his cock, lining him up with my entrance before sinking down onto his length. He groans, stilling beneath me as I seat myself to his balls. Splaying my hands on his chest, I start to rock myself on him, riding him, using him for my own pleasure. I lift and drop myself faster and faster, chasing the bliss and ignorance that comes with pleasure. Rocking harder, I drop my head back as sweat drips between my breasts.
“Soulmate,” he rasps.
Leaning down, still rubbing myself on him, I let him suck one of my nipples into his mouth, making me moan as he bites down hard. I reach between us and finger my clit, my pussy fluttering, my release building. Ripping from his mouth, needing to move, I ride him faster, spreading my knees for better control. Each slide of his thick shaft inside of me, hitting those nerves, makes me wilder until I’m almost feral too.
My release hits me out of nowhere, and I cry out and still above him, my pussy clamping down on him as I shake from the force of it, my vision almost blackening.
I gasp, my eyes springing open as I look down to see his hands now resting on my bare breasts from where he just ripped off my shirt.
“H-How—” I sputter in my pleasure-fuzzy brain.
He leans up then, so our faces are inches apart. “Dislocated my thumb, slipped out a hand out, and untied the other,” he confesses.
“Dray…what—that’s fucking crazy!” I gasp.
He shrugs then with an evil smirk quirking his lips. “I wanted to touch you, and it’s my turn now,” he purrs darkly, before he spins us and I’m lying on my back with him hovering above me. He grabs the crown twisted in my hair and flings it away. “Hold on, soulmate,” he warns, before pulling out and ramming back inside of me.
I scream from the force, my hands scrambling on the bed, ripping at the sheets. He groans, grabs them, and then places them on his wounded chest. Instead, I slip them around and dig my nails into his back as he starts to hammer into me with no finesse or rhythm, just fucking me hard and fast like he wants to split me in two. Reaching down, he grabs my leg and throws it over his hip and hits deeper inside me, bumping my cervix. My eyes close as I scratch down his back, painting his skin with my pleasure.
He growls, his hips stuttering before he pummels into me, harder and faster than before. No restraint, no worries, no past or future. Just two animals fucking. Screw being king and queen, this is what I want. My eyes open in shock when he bites down on the soft spot between my shoulder and neck, the pain shooting through me and mixing with my pleasure, making me scream for him.
He yanks back and I see the blood coating his lips, and I can feel it dripping slowly down my skin. “Yours,” he snarls.
My nails rip down his spine, urging him on as he hammers into me, my release building again from his rough treatment. One more thrust is all it takes before I explode once more, the force of my orgasm making me fight against him, scream his name, and rip at his back. He pins my writhing body down and fucks me harder until he stills with a howl, his come spurting inside me.
Panting, he collapses on me, his weight heavy and reassuring. I wrap my arms around him, still feeling his softening cock inside of me. Dray lifts his head, his hair plastered to his forehead
from sweat, his blue eyes icy and looking right into my soul. His plump lips quirk up as he softly moves a strand of tangled hair from my face. “There’s my fucking champion,” he whispers.
I grin then too, and his thumb sweeps across my bottom lip. “I love you, soulmate,” he admits.
“Dray,” I gasp, my eyes flying wide.
“I do, I love you. I won’t say forever because that isn’t enough. I don’t want just one lifetime with you, I want them all. So, I won’t say I’ll love you forever, I will say I’ll love you always.”
I blink back tears and swallow hard. “I love you too,” I croak.
He grins then, flashing white teeth with a crazed smile.
“I couldn’t imagine my life without you, you make it whole. I love you,” I repeat.
I feel his cock hardening again inside of me. “Say it again,” he demands, thrusting shallowly.
“I love you,” I gasp.
He grips my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Better not forget it, because you’re never getting away from me,” he snarls, picking up speed.
We fuck hard and soft nearly all night long, neither of us able to get enough of each other. He’s wild but so am I. We paint each other’s skin in our pleasure with the moon shining in through the balcony. This might be a castle and I might be a queen in a tower, but this is no fairy tale. Dray isn’t prince charming, no, he’s the beast, a monster, and he doesn’t save me. I save my fucking self. This woman doesn’t need a prince for that, just a sword and air in my lungs.
What Next?
“Wake your ass up,” comes an annoyed voice from above me. My eyes snap open instantly and lock onto a grinning Archel, who is crouched by the side of the bed. I glance down at his neck to see a blade at his throat, and I follow the arm to Dray who is lying under me with his eyes still closed, but they slit open and meet my gaze. He speaks without even looking at his assassin.
“If you see any of her, I will rip your eyes out,” he threatens casually, and Archel snorts.
“Don’t worry, she’s not my type. Plus, my girl would kill me,” he mutters and we both blink before looking over at the assassin. Girl? He has a girlfriend…someone can put up with him?
“Later you are spilling, for now, get the fuck out,” Dray grumbles, dropping the blade and closing his eyes.
“Those pesky rebels and Berserkers are calling for their queen, and so is a doctor who is a real fucking killjoy. Better get up and down there before they all kill each other.” He sounds way too happy about that, and I groan as he starts to whistle as he leaves the room. “Oh, and the ray of sunshine sent up some clothes for you.”
I hear the door shut and grumble as I lay my head back on Dray’s chest. “We better get up.”
“Nope,” he argues.
“They will just come up here eventually,” I tell him with a laugh, propping my chin on his chest.
He slits his eyes open again, his hands moving from the bottom of my back to cup my arse, pulling me up until I can feel his hard length pressed against me. “Then I will kill them.” He shrugs, like it’s simple.
“You can’t kill everyone,” I point out helpfully.
“Sure I can. It’s that simple, soulmate. I don’t give a fuck about anyone but you,” he growls, and my heart softens.
“Liar, you care about your people,” I reply.
“I do,” he agrees, his eyes blinking fully open. “But I love you, I would give up everything, kill anyone, for you.”
“Crazy bastard.” I grin before dropping a kiss on his lips. “We are still getting up, then you are going to let Doc look at your wounds,” I order as I slide from the bed.
“Like fuck I am, they are fucking cuts,” he grouses, getting up and prowling after me as I head to the bathroom to try and get cleaned up with a horny, pissed off Seeker on my heels.
“Yes you are,” I tease.
The bathroom doesn’t have much, just a sink and a toilet, and the best bit? A huge iron tub. I almost groan at the thought of getting a bath, and hurry over and turn on the taps, praying Ivar’s indoor plumbing works this far up. It’s one of the few luxuries of the castle. I guess his royal dickness couldn’t live without running hot water. I wonder how he did it, but that soon disappears when water spurts from the tap with a rattle. It’s dirty at first, but it soon runs clear and I let it go for a bit to wash away the grime and dirt from the unused tub before I add the plug and let it fill, steam rising from the hot water. Sands below, that is going to feel amazing.
A noise has me turning to see Dray placing our swords and knives within reaching distance before he hops into the bath and slides down in the tub, parting his legs with a pointed look at me. Why do we always end up in the tub? Can’t say I’m complaining though. I slip in after him, leaning my back against his chest as I watch the tub slowly fill. The only sound in the room is the water running.
“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Dray asks softly, his arms wrapping around my middle and hoisting me back so not an inch of room is left between our bodies.
“Honestly? Not really. Physically, he has hurt me worse before...” I trail off, Vasilisy’s face flashing in my mind.
“But?” he prompts.
“Vasilisy,” I whisper.
“I’m sorry, soulmate, I know you liked him.” He squeezes me then and drops a gentle kiss on my shoulder.
“I did, he was a good man, an even better warrior. Death is never pretty, but he deserved a better one,” I mutter.
“I’m betting he was fine with it, everything he did was for you,” he offers.
“That’s the point. I am sick of people dying for me. I would rather they live. I want them to fight, I want them to rage, and I want them to live. Is that too much to ask for?” I snap.
“No. I won’t die for you, soulmate. I am far too self-serving for that, plus that would mean a world for you without me in it. Not happening. I know my limits, I know how to survive, and I plan on staying by your side until the day we both die. I promise you that,” he whispers against my wet shoulder.
I settle back then, flicking off the tap with my toe. “Good, you die on me and I swear to God, Dray, I will bring you back and kill you myself,” I growl.
He nips at my skin. “Always so feisty,” he mumbles against my skin.
“You fucking bet, I’m a queen now, and queens get what they want.”
“And what do you want, soulmate?” he inquires seriously.
“You, my men. I want to live until we’re old, I want to stop having to fight every day, but first I want to stop this war,” I admit honestly.
“Then let’s do just that,” he states.
“You make it sound so easy.” I sigh and lean my head back against his shoulder.
“Nothing worth doing is ever easy, nor is anything worth loving, but that doesn’t mean it’s not possible. Let’s get washed and go talk to your new generals. I know how to build up men you trust and we don’t have a lot of time. I suggest you pick three generals, and leave them and some rebels here in case of any leftover Ivar supporters, then bring some with you. Send the rest to The Ring, because, soulmate? There will be a war, and we are going to be on the winning side.”
“I suppose you better wash me then, my king,” I murmur.
“Yes, my queen.” He grins, licking at my shoulder.
We washed quickly, with Archel’s warning running through my mind, and I find the clothes he was talking about waiting near the door for us on the broken dressing table. The jeans are a washed out black and have a few holes, but they are better than the ones I had before, and they even have a belt to tighten them so they fit properly. I grin at the socks and slip them on. I’m not even going to ask where he found socks, but this being queen thing might be good. The shirt is white and I groan when I realise it has sleeves—it is way too fucking hot out there for sleeves. Grabbing one of Dray’s knives he left on the side table while he dresses, I make quick work of cutting off the sleeves and grin at the tank top I created
. I pull it on before adding my holster around my thigh for my knife, and then I slip another into my boot. I almost well up when I see Archel has managed to find my holster for my swords, and I slide it over my shoulders and sheathe both of the blades into their rightful places. Gripping my damp hair, I quickly plait it before curling it into a bun on top of my head. It is getting long for sure, so I need to remember to cut it again soon.
When I turn around to grab my boots, my eyes drop to Dray’s hands where he is quickly sheathing all his knives across his chest with expertise that has my new panties wet and my mouth dry. He catches me staring and smirks, so I grab my boots and slip into then, lacing them up tight so sand doesn’t get inside.
I don’t bother putting on the leather jacket, since I want them see all of my tattoos and brands. I’m not ashamed anymore. They are each a reminder of another horror I have survived, another warrior mark, and I will wear them with pride.
I wait for Dray as he grabs his own boots and laces them, and then he pushes back his hair and look at me. “Ready?” I ask.
“Not quite,” he replies, and I frown, but it turns into a gasp as he prowls towards me and grabs the back of my head hard, kissing me.
His tongue sweeps in and he tangles it with mine as we both groan. Eventually he pulls back, leaving both of us panting and watching each other.
“Now I’m ready.” He smirks.
Rolling my eyes but secretly pleased, I grab my jacket and stroll from the room with Dray on my heels as we head downstairs and back to reality. I push open the door at the bottom and spot Evan leaning against the opposite wall with a scowl.
“Bout fucking time,” he snaps. “Come on, they are all waiting.”
“Who?” I ask, as I join him as he starts to walk quickly.
“Your rebel buddies got here early this morning. They must have ridden all night and there’s a message from The Rim for you. The Berserkers are also waiting on you, being a queen sucks,” he adds with a grin at me.