Bonded to the Berserkers: A menage shifter romance (Berserker Brides Book 4) Page 2

  “We cannot. If you stay behind, a great evil will claim you. It is on its way, even now. Without our rescue, you will lose your life.”

  “What?”

  A howl went up, and otherworldly sound. A great wind rushed passed us. I ducked against the warrior, huddling in his shadow.

  “What was that?” I shivered in the sudden cold, my shift not enough to keep out the chill.

  “The evil that seeks you.”

  “I don’t understand.” I couldn’t keep from pressing against him.

  He rubbed my arms, soothing the goosebumps.

  At his touch, my body softened, turning towards his. He towered over me, strapping chest and muscled arms making feel small and petite, an oak to a shrinking flower. I’d never seen such a powerful warrior. If he told the truth, if I could trust him to protect me, then I need never fear again. I couldn’t imagine anything could stand in his way.

  The howl went up again, and I let him pull me closer.

  “What’s your name?” he murmured, his fingers finding the curve of my neck and cupping it, holding me against him.

  “Laurel.”

  “Like the mountain flower.”

  I nodded, my cheek pressed against his leather jerkin. I tried to push away, and was only able to raise my head. He wouldn’t let me go. Something hard probed my belly. I tried hard not to think what it was, and ignored the excitement that thrilled through me.

  The warrior smoothed my hair away from my face. “You are mine now, Laurel.”

  “I don’t know what you want with me.” I was a good cook, and men of the village called me beautiful, but that was not enough to raid an abbey. Was it?

  “It’s all right,” he said as the wind tossed the trees above us. The wild weather was no normal summer gale. My spine prickled with unease. Yet when he spoke of keeping me safe, I believed him. In the circle of this giant warrior’s arms, I was in the calm center of the storm. “You can trust me.”

  His rough fingers tipped my chin up.

  “I—”

  My words cut off as his mouth slammed down on mine.

  Heat blazed through my body, burning a path from my lips to the apex of my thighs. I clung to his powerful arms, pressing myself into the safety of his body as a storm raged through me.

  “What was that?” I gasped when he drew away. The rush of warmth faded a little, leaving an insistent throb between my legs. The ache tightened my nipples, flushed my skin, and left me tingling, alive. I’d never felt this way before.

  I wanted to feel it again.

  “That,” he said with satisfaction, “is why you should trust me.”

  8

  Haakon

  Our mate’s cheeks flushed. Even in the moonlight, I could tell her creamy skin burned. I wanted to kiss her again, and see what other parts of her body would warm.

  The enemy is coming, Ulf spoke across our bond. We cannot hide her much longer. We must go.

  I scooped the woman up in my arms. She squeaked in surprise, but wrapped her arms around my neck.

  “Just a little journey, love. Stay quiet.”

  A wind swept over us, chilling to the bone. Laurel fell silent. Her fingers dug into my shoulders. She smelled sweet under all that burned cabbage.

  She wasn’t fighting. My kiss had worked like magic, waking her heat.

  Behind me, Ulf snorted.

  It’s true. I told him smugly. Just scent her arousal.

  All I smell is burnt cabbage. Shaking his head, Ulf picked up his pace. Stay here. Let me scout the way.

  I crouched in a pool of moonlight, the better to study my captive. When the wind picked up, she shivered, and I pulled her closer.

  “Little love,” I murmured and she pressed her lips together. Worry on her face clashed with her enticing scent.

  “My name is Haakon,” I offered. “You are safe with me. I swear on my axe.”

  “My friends. The ones you took. What will happen to them?”

  “Your friends are safe. We will not harm them.”

  Her heart thumped wildly. her fright set my beast prowling, ready to taste new prey. I nuzzled her shoulder, stopping when her breath caught.

  Haakon, Ulf warned.

  Just a little nibble. I turned my head and my lips brushed her ear. She leaned against me with a little sigh. She is ready. She is almost in heat.

  Not now, brother. We must take her to safety.

  A strong gust shook the trees.

  Laurel whimpered.

  “Hush,” I told her. “You are safe now with us.”

  “I don’t even know you,” she said, even as she relaxed in my arms.

  I nuzzled her hair again. “And yet, we would die for you.”

  The wind rose again, a plaintive keening that set my hair on end.

  “What was that?” Laurel whispered when it died away.

  “The Corpse King seeks you. He would take you and the rest of the spaewives as his brides. But you need not fear. Ulf and I will keep you safe.”

  Something isn’t right, brother. Ulf stalked out of the trees nearby. As he came into view, Laurel stiffened in fear. I covered her mouth just before she screamed.

  9

  Ulf

  Pain struck my heart as the woman recoiled from me. I quickly turned the scarred side of my face away.

  “It’s all right,” Haakon told her. “It’s only Ulf, my warrior brother. He will not harm you.”

  “The Corpse King’s forces are coming up the road,” I reported.

  “How did they get here so quickly?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t reach the Alphas, or the pack.” My head ached from trying. “There’s magic in the air. I do not have a good feeling about this.”

  “We must get our mate to safety.”

  I grunted in reply, and started picking a path through the forest. Haakon followed, arms full of the woman he’d chosen.

  We’ve both chosen her, he corrected.

  I picked up my pace. The farther we are from the abbey, the safer we’ll be. If we can avoid the Corpse King’s notice, then we can head towards the mountain the pack calls home.

  There we will tell the Alpha’s we have found our mate.

  There are many Berserkers who need mates.

  They found their own women at the abbey. This one is ours, Haakon said.

  Again, the pain in my heart. I had resigned myself to never taking a mate. To have the chance to claim one—the small hope hurt worse than none.

  Unless you don’t like her?

  I like her well enough. I guarded my own thoughts, lest my warrior brother know my reluctance. Better to never take a mate than have her cringe from me for the rest of my days.

  She is round and warm and will be pleasing in the long winter.

  If she does not try to bathe us in cabbage broth.

  We can punish her if she does. Haakon’s eager tone would’ve made me laugh, if the world around us wasn’t turning darker, as if the Corpse King’s magic leached away all the light of the moon. You scented her from the first. You want her. Admit it.

  Very well. I sighed. This one is ours. I would keep my distance, and let Haakon claim her. Perhaps it would be enough to satisfy the curse.

  Good, Haakon said smugly before adding with more seriousness, Let us fly to safety.

  As one, we put on a burst of speed. Few things can outrun a Berserker, and we put several leagues between us and the abbey, even weaving around bushes and trees. Gusts of wind tore at the treetops above us violently, raining down leaves and branches.

  Our mate cried out. Immediately we both slowed.

  “We can’t go on,” Haakon shouted over the blustering storm. We cannot outrun the wind.

  We need to find shelter, I agreed.

  Who is this mage, that he can control the weather?

  We have taken something from him, someone he prizes above all. The young woman clung to Haakon, dark hair plastered against her pale skin. Her curves under the rain-soaked shift were luminous, lovely a
s the goddess herself.

  Reading my thoughts, Haakon hugged our mate closer. He will never take her from us.

  This way. I bounded down the path. Branches and leaves rained down, missiles flung by the wind. Haakon and I ran faster, dodging limbs and leaping over fallen trees. Trunks of great oaks creaked, the trees groaning and swaying as if they might come down.

  The wind ripped one up and sent it into our path with a great rustling crash. Haakon barely dodged it.

  Ulf, get us out of here!

  Stones shone ahead. This way—a road.

  I took one step out of the shelter of the woods, and the wind died immediately. Haakon, wait. The road was eerily quiet, as if we’d reached the eye of the storm. Something is wrong.

  A steady trudging sound reached my ears and I threw myself down.

  Grey Men. Hide—quick!

  Haakon flung himself to the ground, holding the woman close as a huge horde of the Corpse King’s stinking servants marched by.

  “Keep quiet,” Haakon told the woman, his hand over her mouth to reinforce his order. Her eyes were wide with fear. “Those are the Corpse King’s forces, Grey Men raised from the dead and filled with magic to do the mage’s bidding. If they find us, they may take you. There are too many to fight.”

  They marched by the place where we lay, rank upon rank of them, newly raised from the grave. With their pale skin and empty eyes, there was no mistaking them for evil creatures.

  The woman hid her face against Haakon’s chest.

  The Corpse King raised a force quickly.

  He uses great magic to fight us. He is desperate.

  As soon as the Grey Men passed, the wind picked up.

  Quickly. I crawled backwards and Haakon did the same, until we could safely rise and run back the way we came.

  Head for the hills. The Grey Men move more easily on the road.

  The further away we got from the place we’d seen the Grey Men, the more the storm raged. We fought to climb the wooded hills, crouching in the shelter of great boulders when the winds grew overpowering.

  Press on, over the ridge. We can find shelter in a ravine.

  When we broke from the forest, the trees no longer protected us from the raging wind. A dark muttering echoed around us, as though the sorcerer spoke through the storm. The wind sliced my skin, my limbs grew heavy. My legs moved slower, as if the fog surrounding us was mud. I put my hands over my ears, and some of my energy returned.

  Another spell! I warned Haakon.

  Behind me, he bent double, bowed against the oncoming gusts that pushed him like a giant’s hand. I grabbed him before he tumbled among the rocks.

  Take her, he gasped.

  Are you sure? But she was already in my arms, trembling. The howling around us increased as I staggered on, my feet finding rising ground. Boulders loomed around us, a giant’s graveyard. We’d come to a hilly place, exposed to the sky. No wonder the Corpse King could reach us.

  Haakon? I couldn’t hear him over the wind. Not even the brother bond held against the Corpse King’s spell. I reached for Haakon, and the pack. Nothing. I was alone.

  A thousand bees buzzed in my head, like the witch’s magic that made me a Berserker.

  I shook my head to clear it.

  “What is happening?” the woman in my arms cried.

  “Hush,” I told her, and gripped her tighter. Lightning lit up the sky, and she screamed. Soft hands pushed at me. Did she see my scarred face, and panic?

  Stumbling, I set her down. She scrambled away from me, her shift tearing on the rocks as she ran. Did she not see the cliff’s edge?

  “No,” I bellowed. For a moment, she hesitated, swaying on the rocks. “Come to me.” I reached for her. Too late I remembered to clap my hands over my ears to find my Berserker strength. My body moved through air like water.

  Laurel backed away, terror on her face. Did the sorcerer’s voice torment her, too?

  “No—” Haakon dashed forward, blurring past me.

  He was too late.

  Laurel slipped off the edge of the rock, and fell screaming backwards into the mist.

  10

  Laurel

  The howling invaded my head, my body, my heaving lungs, filling me with horror until I drowned.

  “Make it stop,” I begged, but the wind stole my very breath.

  Lightning lit the world and I screamed. The handsome warrior who held me turned into a monster with a scarred face—the left side still firm as a young, rugged man’s, the right melted like tallow left too close to a fire.

  I clawed at the arms around me, broad and wickedly strong. I broke free, and fought backwards through the wind. And then—

  The ground beneath my feet slipped away. The howling stopped. I fell, the wind rushing past me. Night had come, but some evil magic blotted out any moonlight. Someone was screaming, the voice sucked away into the void. My hands clawed at the darkness. Not even the stars would witness my death.

  Something struck my body, large and solid as a boulder, but warm. An angel?

  A grunt, and the large, black being wrapped itself around me, just as we hit the earth—

  Pain. My body rang with the blow, my limbs numb from the cold air and the fall.

  Was I dead?

  My shocked lungs filled with air. More pain, but a good, alive sort of pain.

  I rolled off the soft ground where I’d landed, feeling my arms. My head throbbed, some blood trickled down my bare leg. My shift was torn, dirty, but unscathed. I’d survived.

  At the base of the cliff, the air was clear. The moon and stars shone as if they’d never been blotted out. The cliff towered over me, dark and looming as if it might fall and crush everything at its feet. I’d tripped and fallen from the edge, high as an eagle’s nest above me.

  How was I alive?

  A groan shattered the calm. A black shape lay where I’d fallen, a twisted mass on the rocks.

  “Oh no.” I fell to my knees, nausea washing over me. Someone had caught me midair. Not an angel. A man. I stared at the mangled evidence.

  “Oooh,” he moaned again. He seemed to be alive. But it was not possible.

  I scooted closer to the dying man, scouring my memory for his name.

  “Haakon?”

  “Oh love,” he groaned, his breathing labored. “Next time we dance, let's do it far from the edge of a cliff.”

  I let out a little sob.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  My body throbbed as if I’d been beaten, but nothing seemed broken, or even bloody. Unlike him. “I’m… alive. But you—we fell. How…” The sheer rock face glared down on both of us. “How did we survive?”

  “Caught you,” he rasped. “Broke your fall.”

  “Oh no,” my hands fluttered over his body without finding a safe place to land. The warrior lay twisted on the stony ground, thick, dark liquid seeping out from under his broken form. Blood. So much blood. I could not fix this.

  “I'm sorry,” I gasped. “I—panicked.”

  “Not your fault. The wind—”

  “It’s gone now.” The otherworldly howling had fallen silent. The night sky looked normal, the air fresh as a light rain fell.

  “Safe now,” Haakon caught my hand and gripped it with surprising strength. Warmth surged through me at his touch. I blinked back tears, on my knees, mourning this man I barely knew.

  A finger brushed wet away from my cheek? “Why so sad, lass?”

  “You’re hurt,” I choked out. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him he was dying. “It’s my fault. I ran—”

  “Of course you did. We haven't had the best of introductions.” A crooked smile flashed onto his face, in between grimaces of pain.

  My laugh broke the wall of tension in my chest. The broken man before me had to be crazy, jesting at a time like this.

  “Do not worry,” he said. “I’ll be alright. Berserkers have survived worse.”

  A mad man, then. I scooted closer and wiped some of the blood on
his face with the edge of my shift.

  “If injuring myself brings such care, I would’ve run off a cliff sooner,” he joked through bloody lips.

  “Shh. Don’t talk now. Save your strength.” It was a miracle that he even could speak. I kept my eyes on his face instead of his twisted body.

  He stayed silent as my fingers and the rainwater smoothed away the bloodstain, but turned his head once to kiss my fingers playfully. I choked back a broken laugh. Who was this warrior who joked in the face of death and great pain? Our fight in the abbey seemed ages ago, and somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to hate him.

  When the blood was mostly gone from his face, I sat back.

  “Thank you, lass.”

  “I wish I could do more.”

  I winced as a cough racked his body, his face contorted in pain. The end would be soon. I should say a prayer. The clouds parted and the moon came out, I gasped.

  Was it a trick of the light, or had the cuts on his face closed?

  “Haakon!”

  I jumped at the shout from above.

  “Here's help,” Haakon said. “Be calm.”

  A second later, the scarred warrior came down, scaling the cliff, finding foot and hand holds on the slick rock with only moonlight as his guide. Many feet from the ground, he tensed and flung himself back. I bit back a shriek, but he landed agilely on his feet and strode to our side.

  Haakon’s body was still twisted, but the gash on his head had healed. I stared and he winked at me.

  “What are you?” I breathed.

  “Your saviors,” Ulf’s grim voice made me scramble out of his way. He knelt at Haakon’s side. They look at each other in silence, as if communicating silently.

  I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering more from worry than cold.

  Ulf looked back at me. “Come, lass. You may as well fix what you’ve broken.”

  I stared at him as Haakon laughed, coughed, and said, “She doesn’t know what you mean, brother.”

  The scarred face held no sympathy for me. “Both of Haakon’s legs are broken. Probably his back as well. Where does it hurt?” The last question was for Haakon.