by Lee Savino
“Blizzard will be over soon, and then I’ll move you to better shelter,” he muttered. “It’s been a hard winter. It’s not good for you to be out in these elements.” His voice was deep and soothing, but sad. “You should not have come.”
I bit my lip. When the blizzard was over, would he send me back? I rolled to face him. Golden eyes burned out of a lean face. His beard was wild, but he didn’t look like a madman. Just tired. Perhaps a bit annoyed. He didn’t want me here, where he felt he couldn’t care for me.
Bowing my head, I pressed myself to his chest. I had to come up with a way to convince him to keep me as his mate.
In the meantime, I would sleep. For the first time in weeks, I did not worry about nightmares. My warriors would keep them away, as they had before.
After a long stretch of unbroken rest, I woke to Svein’s voice calling from far away.
“Wake up, little one. You must eat.”
He held a hand to my lips and cold water trickled into my mouth. Melted snow. I accepted a drink and a bit of hard bread, then Svein bundled me up and lifted me easily as a sack of dandelion fluff. He carried me across a blinding white landscape. Through a gap in the furs, I looked around for his warrior brother, but Dagg was nowhere in sight.
Svein must’ve noticed me searching. “He’s lost to us. The beast has taken over his mind.”
I let my head rest back on Svein’s hard chest. I’d waited too long. If Svein was right, I’d never see Dagg again. My heart ached.
Svein ducked under a rocky overhang and crawled into a cave. He set me a few feet inside, and even though I was still wrapped in the cloak, I shivered.
“Wait here,” he said. “I must build a fire for you. You’re too cold, and too small by half to be out in this weather.”
I huddled in the place he left me, staring blindly at the wintery world. A shape moved in the woods. An animal? Or something else?
I didn’t relax until Svein returned. He built the fire, and even took a branch and knocked away all the cobwebs in the corner of the cave. Once the blaze burned high, he sat and pulled me into his lap.
“Why did you come, Fern? Why are you here?”
I licked my lips. The wind blew up harder, whipping the fire until sparks flew. He held out a hand to shield me from them and cursed when I shivered.
“You should not be here. It's not safe for you.”
A howl broke from the woods. I rose but Svein tugged me down.
“No. You cannot save him. It’s not safe.”
I stared at him. The Dagg I knew would never, ever hurt me.
“I see what you are thinking, little one, and it will not work. He is lost. Promise me you will give him up.”
Instead I busied myself examining Svein. His face was lined, and his beard was almost as long as Dagg’s had been. He wore a leather jerkin and breeches, thin protection against the cold. He’d wrapped all his pelts around me.
There was a dark stain on the side of his jerkin, near where it was ripped. Frowning, I followed the tear to his back, where the garment gaped open. There was blood on his skin, black flakes caked against the leather. I tugged at the shirt and Svein sighed.
“You wish to see what Dagg has become? Here.” He stripped off the jerkin and showed me the wounds, long angry cuts made by a giant claw. “Got these days ago, before the blizzard.”
With a whimper of sympathy, I touched his skin. The wounds were red and raw, but that could not be right. Berserkers healed faster than that.
“We've been fighting, little one.”
I stared him in shock. Warrior brothers shared a bond closer than any other except for the mating bond. Dagg would not fight Svein unless the curse had driven him from his mind.
“He is Dagg no longer, but a monster.”
I kept examining the wound until Svein shook me off.
“Don’t fuss over me, lass. You should be thinking of yourself.”
Pursing my lips into a stubborn expression, I came to him with one of the pelts and wrapped it around his shoulder. He gazed at me sadly. “I can't believe you came. First the bread, and now...”
Shivering, I stepped close and waited before him. His arms came around me, and I sagged against his chest. His head rested on mine. “You should have left us for dead. We are beyond saving.”
I raised my head and he put a finger to my lips to stop me from protesting.
“We've been driven from our pack. They have cut us off from their presence. We heal slower now, if we heal at all.”
I held him tighter.
“It’s no use,” he went on murmuring almost to himself. “The end will be soon. We will spiral quickly into madness.”
Almost violently, I wrenched myself from his arms. I went to my bag, where I’d packed a little cup. I filled it with snow and set it near the fire to melt. Svein sat and watched me. The pelt hung loose about his shoulders, but even bare-chested he didn’t seem to notice the cold.
I poured water over the wounds to clean them and bound his side with strips torn from my gown.
“You should not care for me, lass,” he muttered.
I squeezed his hand.
“I’ll have to return you to the Alphas.”
I shook my head frantically. He rose, and I held onto him, pushing up onto my tiptoes to twine my arms around his neck. My ear rested on his chest, over his heart beat. At last his arms came around me. His hands slid over my back.
“Why did you come?” he asked again. “Did something happen?” When I didn’t answer, he tipped my chin up.
I pressed my lips together. Don’t speak. Don’t speak.
He must have seen the stricken look on my face because he shook his head. “Never mind. You always were a quiet one. Come,” he coaxed me near the blaze, and made me to eat more bread. “You don’t have enough weight on you to last the winter.”
I broke the roll in half and thrust it into his hands. He was thinner too, stripped to muscle with nothing to spare. Still big, though. He towered over me.
I would not stand long against him, if he eventually did lose his mind.
“I need to hunt. But I dare not leave you long.”
I touched his shoulder, leaning into him. His arms came around me, and I relaxed. More than food, I was hungry for his touch.
“I’m glad you came. Even if you should not have. You put yourself in grave danger,” he growled, and this time I touched his lips to stop his protest. When I could bring myself to speak, I would tell him there was no safe place for me outside the shelter of his arms.
17
Juliet
All day, the girls sat in small pockets about the lodge, whispering. I quelled their talk as much as I could, but eventually one of the Berserkers would come and find out.
As if conjured by my thoughts, Jarl appeared with more wood for the fire. I kept away, pretending to be busy with some mending, but after a few minutes the lodge fell silent, and the shadow of the big warrior fell across my hands.
“Come with me.” Jarl was frowning.
With a sigh, I followed him around the hearth where we would not be seen. It was colder here, by the door. Normally Jarl would notice me shivering and fetch a pelt for me. This time he waited for me to speak first and growled when I did not.
“One of your friends is missing.”
Wrapping my arms around myself, I shrugged.
“She won’t survive long in this blizzard. Tell me where she has gone.”
A scrape of the door told me another had joined us. Fenrir, the only warrior I’d met who was taller than Jarl. He moved to occupy the small space between the door and the hearth with us, and despite my promise to myself not to be intimidated, I took a step back.
“I don’t know where she went. She wasn’t here this morning.”
Jarl cursed. “Then we must find her quickly.”
“It was her choice to leave.” Rage bubbled up suddenly. Who were these warriors to storm into our home and take us, and keep us like pets?
&n
bsp; I started to stomp past Jarl and he caught my arm.
“Juliet—”
“Don’t touch me,” I hissed. Instantly his hand fell away.
“Juliet,” he repeated, but Fenrir, his warrior brother, made a signal and Jarl fell silent. One untoward move, and I could report these warriors to the Alphas. They’d never be allowed close to me again, if they were allowed to live.
“We have to tell the Alphas,” he repeated. “She could be in danger.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Why would she leave?”
“The wolves,” Rosalind said. The blonde girl stood by the hearth, her eyes spitting sparks.
“What?”
“The missing ones. Fern knew them. The warriors took her from them before you brought her to the mountain.”
“That’s not…” Jarl trailed off, shaking his head. “I heard stories…”
“I was there,” Rosalind said sharply. “She tried to stay with them, even when they were raving like animals.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“The Corpse King attacked them, and their minds were lost,” Jarl said, his gaze faraway. “The Alphas ordered them driven off the mountain.”
“It’s their howls we hear at night,” Rosalind said. “They stay as close to her as they can.”
“That’s what Fern did, then,” I said. “She returned to her lost mates.”
18
Fern
Night fell and Svein kept the fire burning high. He went out into the snow again and again, returning with more sticks and logs for the fire, enough to last us until morning.
I was half asleep when a long lonely note broke out from the woods. Dagg’s howl filled the world, sad and achingly lovely.
Svein growled and pulled me further into the shadows at the back of cave, placing himself between me and the sound.
“Svein,” my hands sought him in the darkness. I found his face and held it. “He is not the enemy. He is your warrior brother.”
“Not anymore.”
“We must help him,” I whispered.
Svein’s fingers bit into my skin, but he stopped growling.
Finally, the howling stopped. Svein fetched the pelts from near the fire and built a bed for us in the depths of the cave. He pulled me down to him and wrapped his arms and legs around me. We lay in silence for a time.
“I had not heard your voice in a long time.” He tugged a lock of my hair. “Little red.”
“Fern,” I said. “My name is Fern.”
“You remember us?”
“Dagg and Svein.”
“We took you from the abbey and spent a day together on the run.”
“Three days,” I corrected. I turned to face him. His body was hard under mine. Every once and a while, a tremor went through him. Not weakness, though. Longing. My own body pulsed in answer.
I did not know how it was possible to miss someone I’d known only a few days out of a life spent apart.
“You came to find me,” Svein murmured. Perhaps he was wondering the same thing I was. “You do not remember our crimes.” His mouth tugged a rueful smile. “You do not remember the night the Corpse King attacked?”
I shook my head.
“Very well little one.” He settled me. “I will tell you.”
19
Svein
Then
The little red-haired one lay in my arms. She did not speak but looked about with wide eyes. As soon as we caught her scent, we’d known she was for us. We had promised not to frighten or rush her, but to woo her slowly. Above all, we would remember our honor.
Besides, it was no great hardship to hold such a beautiful creature, to speak softly to her and feed her from our hands. By the time we reached the mountain, we would have her trained to our touch.
Even now she looked about boldly, and when Dagg offered her meat she did not flinch or shy away. I stroked her hair as she ate, reveling in the shining locks, the fiery color of leaves in the fall. She was a shy thing, used to hiding. When the mist claimed us she’d been so afraid, trembling. It took a half day to coax her from that place of terror.
“Soon we will be home,” Dagg told her. “We’ve built a lodge to live in. It’s been a long time since we’ve had one, but it is time. We are looking forward to staying there, with our mate.”
“We will have to get used to doing chores,” I said. “Chopping wood for the fire. Hunting for meat to feed our mate. Tilling the land for her to sow seeds.” I sifted my fingers through her hair. We had not told her yet that we intended to claim her as mate.
“Yes,” Dagg said. “Perhaps we should cut a window in the lodge wall.”
“A window?”
“Our mate might want to see the outside.”
“What do you think, little red?” I asked, turning the girl’s face to mine.
She bit her lip and nodded.
Dagg smiled. “A window it is. Finish your meat. The sooner we leave, the sooner you will see your new home.” He rose to scout ahead and returned. “The mist is clearing. We should go.”
We took turns carrying our red-haired captive. Not once did her feet touch the ground.
When my turn came again, I hitched her closer and she grabbed my cloak with her small hands. She was so tiny and precious, I marveled that we’d been blessed with such a gift.
The way grew dark, the mist swirled. Our little dove whimpered.
“Do not fear,” I murmured into her hair. “We will keep you safe always.”
As soon as I made the promise, a horrible sound broke in the distance.
I ducked behind a boulder, holding the shivering woman close.
“Some of the pack is ahead,” Dagg reported. “They’re being attacked.” He drew his weapon. “Run.”
I ran, my treasured bundle held tight in my arms. Branches scraped at us and I did my best to shield her. The monster within fought to burst from my flesh. I gritted my teeth against the Change.
Foul winds swept over the earth. Draugr poured from the trees—the risen dead, animated by magic to walk as servants of the Corpse King.
The monster was close now. It was hard to hold back. Only the woman kept the beast at bay.
Ahead, Dagg roared. I could wait no longer. I boosted the woman into a tree and ran to the fray, slashing the corpses, laughing wildly with battle lust. The beast longed for blood even as my stomach churned at the draugr’s stench and the sick taste of their rotting flesh.
Ahead were a group of Berserkers fighting. They stood in a circle, protecting their women in the center as the corpse soldiers pressed in. Dagg and I stood back to back, routing and fighting the enemy.
The woman stood on a high branch, safe from any undead hands. We were almost to the other Berserkers side when a skeleton appeared, riding the mist and wind. “He’s directing the storm!” Dagg snarled at the Corpse King made flesh.
The ground rippled as bones flew from the earth, knitting together with terrible magic. More draugr formed in midair, malformed shapes that could not possible live except as the living dead.
The women screamed. One of the Corpse King’s servants stood shaking the tree where she hid. I could not stop the monster bursting from my skin.
The Berserker rage claimed my mind and I knew nothing, felt nothing, saw nothing but red.
Dagg
Red. Everything red and shadow. A blood tinged world I cannot escape. Something moves in the darkness, lumbering and snuffing on the hunt. A monster lurking in the dark. That is what I’ve become.
A light pierces my world. A fire in a cave. The beast doesn’t want to get close. I barely remember when I sat at a fire and converse like a man. That life is long gone now, the humanity I had, a dream.
And yet I find myself close to the cave. Two voices, one high, one deep. I push closer as the branches part. A scent waits for me, dancing on the snow, delicate. A woman. Her voice coos like a dove.
Memory tugs and I stop in my tracks. Once I held a woman in my arms. She was fragile and silent. My
salvation. But then the monster came and used my hands to almost rip her apart...
The howl tears from my throat as I remember what I have done. What I have become.
20
Fern
The howling started again just as Svein finished his tale.
“Dagg attacked the Berserkers and threatened the women. His mind was lost. I was too far gone myself to pull him back. We were driven off, not allowed to see you again, or gain entrance to the pack’s mountain.”
“But... Dagg fought the Corpse King’s men too. He rescued us.”
“He fought everyone,” Svein corrected gently. “He even swiped at you when you approached to calm him. You don’t remember?”
I shook my head. The mist, the stench, the Corpse King’s fighters—it was all a blur. A waking vision. I was not worried at the time because I had two strong warriors to care for me. When I woke later, and a strange warrior was carrying me, that was when I panicked. They’d taken me to the lodge of unmated spaewives, and finally told me I had no mates. That was when the dreams started again.
“He tried to attack you. When the Alphas found out, they drove him away.”
I bit my lip. His banishment was my fault. “Please, we must tell them he didn’t mean it.”
“He said you bore the scent of the Corpse King,” Svein shook his head. “He made no sense. He has lost his mind. I am sorry, Fern.”
I pressed myself against his strong chest, wondering how it could be that I came so far and still felt that all was lost.
“I must ask again, little one. Why are you here?”
I drew in a long breath. “I need you.”
Frowning, he cocked his head to the side. “Were you're not well cared for?”
“No, I was, but I cannot stay there.” I ducked my head. How can I explain that when I was with them, I did not dream? The visions did not claim me, and I was finally safe.