Captured by the Berserkers: A menage shifter romance (Berserker Brides Book 2) Page 4

  The Corpse King has great power. His magic must disrupt the bond.

  We must take care. We cannot survive long on our own. The beast already felt agitated by the presence of our enemy and aroused by our new mate.

  We will survive, Leif responded. We have helped each other this long.

  I grunted. The magic linking us saved our lives, even if I often resented it. It wasn’t like either of us had a choice.

  I turned my thoughts to strategy. The rest of our brothers must be scattered. I fear our way home is blocked. If I were the Corpse King, I’d set an ambush on the route to the mountain and recover as many women as possible.

  We cannot return, then. We must keep Willow safe.

  I agreed. Leif lifted the woman in his arms, and she let out a soft yelp.

  “Do we have to gag you?” I asked her.

  She shook her head.

  “Quickly, then.” I led the way up the road, dipping into the forest when we neared the abbey. Whatever cold mist had passed Leif’s hiding place seemed to have wilted the grass and plants in a wide circle. Even the trees looked brittle and aged, as if coated with a layer of frost.

  Odin’s blood. Our detour would take us right through the village. Axe raised at the ready, I crept back to the road, expecting to see ranks of Grey Men waiting in the moonlight, a living barricade.

  Well, not living, but a formidable barrier, nonetheless.

  The wind picked up, and I sniffed it. A faint smell of blood, but no draugr.

  “Stop,” I told Leif and Willow. “Let me go on alone.” Keep her safe.

  Leif nodded, and I went forward. The scent of blood hung thick over each home, and quiet reigned throughout the village, from the rudest hut to the empty center square.

  Tingles ran up and down my spine as the curse gathered energy for the Change. I’d been on battlefields before and felt the same oppressive silence. But something told me we hadn’t stumbled on the aftermath of a fight, but a slaughter.

  My boot splashed into a great puddle of mud, and the scent of rust filled my nose. I stopped.

  Stooping, I touched the pool in front of one dark house. My finger came away wet, but not with water.

  Blood.

  I went to the door. At my heavy tread, it creaked open.

  With a wary hand, I pushed farther. Smoke filled the house, remnants of a dying fire. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust, but once they did, I saw what I expected.

  I closed the door and said a prayer for the dead within before striding from house to house, checking for signs of life.

  Each house lay in darkness but for a few with dwindling fires. I knew now how so many draugr had appeared, almost out of nowhere. The cold scent still lingered—the Corpse King’s magic had swept through and claimed the minds of the able-bodied men. The Grey Men we’d seen were all villagers, changed. Before they left for the Corpse King’s service, they had killed everyone they’d leave behind.

  “Odin’s eyes,” I muttered as I passed house after house littered with the dead. A few lay in doorways, some in the streets. Old ones, women, and children.

  No one had survived.

  Go around the village, I sent to Leif. Do not allow Willow to see this.

  I checked the last house, but the slaughter was complete. Picking up a blanket, I covered the remains of a dead mother and child. “Go in peace,” I told them. If I had time, I would bury the bodies and call a witch to purify the area with salt and fire. But we had to keep moving before the Corpse King’s spells swept through again. I whispered a quick prayer, knowing it would not be enough to keep the dead spirits from lingering here, crying for justice.

  I stepped out of the hut, eager to breathe air clear of blood and tainted magic.

  Brokk, where are you? The scent of blood...the beast...I can’t...

  Hold on, Leif!

  I heard a slight cry and whirled in time to catch Willow in my arms. Too late; she saw the still and bloody arm of the woman, most likely severed when she flung it out to protect her child from the killing blow.

  “No,” Willow sobbed, reaching for the dead woman’s hand.

  “Come,” I grunted, lifting her. Her fingers clawed at my arms as I strode away. Leif, I’ve got her.

  She would not stop struggling. Leif sounded tired and sad. I bit back my retort. The scent of slaughter brought out the beast. Leif struggled to maintain control.

  I will carry her. Go ahead and scout for us. The Corpse King may have left a few Grey Men here to stand guard.

  I turned my attention to the woman fighting to break out of my hold.

  “Stop, I know her. Margaret. Joseph’s wife. We must bury her.”

  “There’s too many. The whole village has been slaughtered,” I bit out, and cursed myself for telling her as sorrow contorted her face.

  “No,” she moaned.

  I forced her head down against my shoulder. “Close your eyes,” I barked. She sobbed against me as we passed the silent houses, the bodies in the blood-soaked streets.

  Leif, quickly. We must get out of here.

  You...go...

  “Odin’s blood,” I cursed. Hang on. I dodged between homes, heading for the forest. We have our woman now. You must keep control.

  In the shadows, Leif growled.

  I leapt back. “Leif, it’s me.”

  Brokk!

  I ducked, and a spear flew over my head. The Grey Men had found us.

  Leif charged out of the woods. I feinted and dodged again, but he ran past me to attack the advancing draugr.

  Get her out. Go! A howl rang out, loud and haunting. Enough to send an ordinary man scrambling. The hunting cry of a Berserker.

  I fled into the forest, crashing through the brush, Willow in my arms. She clung to me.

  “Odin’s breath,” I muttered as I splashed into a swift-running stream. I followed it to its end and set Willow down, freeing a hand in case the Grey Men followed. Leif would make short work of the small group of men left to guard the village. I only hoped I could call him back when he’d finished killing. I should not leave him.

  Willow leaned against me, her features fixed in silent horror. She did not cry out again.

  I tucked her in tighter. When I touched Leif’s mind, I found red rage and madness, the tainted power of the Berserker curse.

  Come back to us, I called, and sent him an impression of what I felt—the soft, lovely, and trembling body of a woman against mine. Our mate is waiting.

  No answer. He battled both the Grey Men, and the beast, spitting out a disgusting mouthful of draugr flesh.

  Willow sagged in my arms.

  “They all…they’re all dead,” she mumbled.

  She was weeping, and I didn’t know what to say.

  “Do not grieve for them.” I gripped her, my voice savage. “They lived near enough to the abbey to know the friar mistreated you, and they did nothing.”

  Her mouth opened and shut. Nothing came out.

  “Be grateful the end was swift. It will not be the same for us, if the Corpse King catches up.”

  She stared at me.

  Come quickly, I called to Leif. I cannot do this alone.

  “Odin’s staff,” I said out loud. Brushing her hair back with a clumsy hand, I smeared her skin with blood. Cursing louder, I bent and washed my hand in the stream and wiped the stain away.

  Willow seemed frozen.

  “You’re all right,” I told her. “We got out alive.”

  “It was you,” she said in a horrified whisper. “You did it.”

  “Willow, no.”

  “You brought them on. We were fine until you arrived.”

  She fought me. I let her, standing motionless while her tiny fists beat my armored chest.

  I caught her wrists before she did damage to herself.

  “Stop.” I growled. “You are not thinking clearly. We came to rescue you.”

  “Liar. They’re all dead. You killed them—”

  “The Corpse King killed them. He
came for you. Do you understand? It is your magic, your flesh he desires above all. This—” I plunged my hand between her legs, cupping her sex. “This is what calls to him. Your scent when you are in heat.”

  At my crude touch, she stilled, but it sickened me to manhandle her. I took my hand away.

  “We saved you, Willow. You and your sisters at the abbey would be dead, or enslaved, if we had not come. We are trying to help you.”

  She shook her head, mouth working with silent protest.

  I shook her. If she panicked again and screamed, she might have the whole enemy force running to us. I had to make her see.

  Brokk. Enough. Give her to me. Leif stepped from the shadows. His eyes shone with the beast’s magic, but he’d Changed back into the form of the man.

  Leif? Are you sure?

  He snarled and Willow cried out. “What is that?”

  “It’s Leif,” I said, smoothing my hands down her thin arms. “He feels distress because you are in pain.”

  “Leif?” she quavered, and my warrior brother came forward, his features human and handsome once more.

  I relinquished my bundle and stepped back. To my surprise, Willow ran from me, threw her arms around Leif’s shoulders, and hugged him close.

  After a pause, his arms closed around her. They still bore tufts of fur.

  Leif...

  I know. He adjusted his hold, pressing her face into his neck as she cried. Leif let out grunting, soothing sounds, more animal than man, but when I touched his mind, I found quiet. His rage had retreated.

  She calms the beast, I said, shocked.

  Leif gave a sharp nod. At a great price. The Corpse King will sacrifice anything and anyone to retrieve his intended brides. The woman’s sniffling had subsided, but Leif kept his hand on her head. “You’re safe now,” he said out loud, and to me—Let us go before more Grey Men come.

  Following my warrior brother, I stepped from the stream. We melted into the woods.

  LEIF

  I do not like how pale our little captive looks.

  We’d spent the night crossing hard terrain, heading north and east, away from the pack and home. I carried Willow, cradling her to my chest when she fell into a doze. Within me, the beast also slept, content. Willow had stilled it with her scent and trusting touch.

  She leaned against my shoulder as Brokk and I ran together under the silent moon.

  She’s not afraid of us. She sleeps, Brokk observed.

  She is exhausted. And once we find safety, there is much to tell her. Other than her pallor, she seemed healthy, if a little thin. Her arms and legs bore muscles made sturdy from work.

  Let’s get a good meal into her, Brokk agreed. I know a place to take shelter. It’s quiet and out-of-the-way. We will stay there until we can reach the Alphas.

  They will expect us back at the mountain.

  They will know something is wrong. The Corpse King’s forces have us scattered. They did a good job of isolating us, the better to pick us off and take the mage’s brides back, one by one.

  They will not take her, I growled and clutched my fragrant-smelling bundle close.

  They will not take her, Brokk echoed. In this, my warrior brother and I shared one mind. He’d always been more wary and slower to trust, but he had seen how the beast responded to her presence.

  My little miracle. She had a few freckles on her face. I wanted to kiss each one. There would be time for that, once we had her safe. I just had to convince Brokk to accept her.

  When we came to a river, I paused on the bank. Here. You are taller. Why don’t you carry her over?

  Brokk snorted. He stood taller by a hairsbreadth; we joked of it often.

  But you are stronger and uglier. More suited to being a beast of burden.

  Suit yourself. I waded in, holding the woman high. I will be first in everything. First to find her. First to carry her. First to fuck her.

  Brokk grimaced at me, showing his fangs.

  We must seduce her first, he said, and I sobered.

  Do you think she suffered ill-use, like the woman Rolf and Thorbjorn wish to claim?

  Even if she escaped the friar’s attentions, she still suffered under their threat, Brokk pointed out and I agreed.

  He’s dead now?

  Good and dead. Thorbjorn told me the moment it happened. He struck the friar down before the Grey Men swarmed the place.

  We crossed the river and continued to make haste. No sense lingering, even if the Grey Men couldn’t follow. The Corpse King had other weapons.

  We must charm her, I said, after a few minutes’ silence. Put her at ease.

  You’re better at wooing women, Brokk said. Did he realize his scowl held a measure of pain?

  If I can control the beast. I tried to joke, but no Berserker would laugh at such a serious subject. We’d all seen comrades die when the beasts ate their minds and filled them with endless rage. If a wolf lost control, the pack must put him down.

  In my arms, Willow let out a little sigh. The weather had turned cold, too cold for late summer.

  I shifted her in my arms. Let’s get out of this wind.

  We are close to shelter. Brokk led the way, winding uphill until we came to a grassy knoll, high above the trees. The forest had been cleared to make way for a castle fort, now abandoned and in ruins.

  The king of this land misjudged his power. His enemy overtook him before he finished building his fortress, and the mercenaries knocked most of it down. Brokk’s mouth curved in a grim smile.

  “When did this happen?” I said aloud, keeping my voice low so as not to wake her. Brokk and I could link mind to mind, able to share thoughts, images and impressions, but he liked his privacy. We tended to use the bond only in the direst need. Except for today, when we used it for Willow’s comfort.

  “A few decades ago. I went with Knut, Rolf, and Thorbjorn. The opposing king hired us.” He shrugged. “A day’s entertainment to take the fort and slaughter every man inside. Well worth the purse of gold.” We climbed the hill and stepped out onto the ledge overlooking a vast, still lake. The wind ruffled the blue-black water. “We spent some time standing here, throwing stones into the lake.” Brokk pointed.

  “Where was I?” I asked, even though I could guess.

  Brokk unslung the pack and went to the tallest wall still standing. He shook out a bedroll and wolf skin, making a soft nest for the woman. “You had sought solitude…to control your beast.”

  I laid our little captive down on the makeshift bed. She let out a soft sigh, burrowing into the fur, and slept on. The events of the night—her fighting, terror, and tears—left her worn out. Her small fingers gripped the fur.

  I nudged Brokk. “Perhaps she would be more comfortable with the wolf.”

  Brokk pressed his lips together. “She needs to learn to trust us as mates.”

  My head snapped up. “You accept her, then?”

  Brokk grunted. I stood guard over the woman while he made camp and built up a fire. He kept his distance and did not glance our way, but once the blaze took hold, he stripped off his clothes, folded them in the pack, and Changed. A giant black wolf with brown markings trotted over to settle near the sleeping woman. His bulk and the wall shielded her from the wind.

  Chuckling, I rose to tend the fire.

  BROKK

  Our little woman slept with her soft cheek cradled in her hands. I napped nearby as a wolf naps, in fits and starts, rising often to turn and resettle in my bed. Leif left to hunt, and I kept my eyes open, wary lest she come awake and think her fine redheaded suitor had abandoned her to a feral wolf.

  Dawn came creeping over the hills, and the birds rejoiced. Hundreds of white-wings gathered by the lakeshore, a long jump and short run away from the ruined fort. If I were not guarding my new mate, I’d go and frighten them, barking at their beating wings, trying to catch one for my breakfast. A fine pastime for a morning.

  Beside me, the little female slept on, face twisted in a worried expression. I l
aid my head on my paws and sighed.

  Leif returned with a pair of rabbits, already skinned. He had them cooking by the time the woman stirred. With a glance at me, he came to take my place while I went behind the low wall. I couldn’t keep from peeking over it to watch her chest rise and fall in sleep.

  When Willow cried out and woke with a start, Leif crouched close to comfort her.

  “It’s all right.” He held his hands out. “Hush, lass. You’re safe now.”

  She licked her lips. “Where am I?”

  “A temporary camp. We’ll stay a few nights, until we’re sure it’s safe. Then it’s back to our home, where you’ll be reunited with your friends. Come,” he beckoned. “Come sit by the fire. There’s nothing here for you to fear.”

  Just as he’d convinced her to rise and follow him, a bird cried out. She jerked around, and her gaze fell on me.

  “Calm, Willow,” Leif crooned, but his soothing murmur didn’t stop her from scrabbling backwards until her back hit the broken wall. She pressed against the grey-green stones, trembling.

  “There’s a wolf,” she whispered.

  “I know. He’s a friend. Here.” He nodded to me, and I poked my head around the edge of the stones.

  Mate, the wolf hummed when it caught her scent. I almost gave her a wide, toothy grin before I remembered myself. The sloping wall didn’t quite hide my large form, even crouching. When I stood tall, I’d be able to lick her chin without much strain.

  “Where did it come from?”

  Leif paused, debating how much to tell her. “He’s been with us all along. Don’t worry. He’s well tamed.”

  He winked at me, and I glared at him. Grinning, the warrior went back to making our meal. Willow stayed crouched against the wall, though she picked up the wolf pelt and put it around her shoulders. I crept from the wall, taking my place at the warrior’s side.

  You’re cooking them too much, I told him, as the rabbit’s flesh turned an unappetizing brown.

  “Weren’t you going to go chase birds on the beach?” Leif asked me out loud. The wolf had let the bond drift open between us. The wolf part of us desired connection over privacy.

  Besides, I found it harder to keep the bond closed when I felt happy or content—or maybe I preferred it open, as if sharing with my warrior brother made my joy complete.