Given to the Berserkers: A menage shifter romance (Berserker Saga Book 4) Page 5

  A large portion of the cabin was taken up by a massive bed. The sight of the soft mattress heaped high with pelts made me pause.

  I swayed a little.

  “Muriel,” the giant warrior steadied me.

  I glanced down and realized the fine dress I wore was stained with gore. In the close space, Wulfgar reeked.

  “We need to clean that wound,” my hands fluttered over the gash in his muscled chest. “Carrying me made the tear worse.”

  “It was worth it,” he said quietly, and heat suffused me.

  “I, uh, can make a poultice…I just need water.”

  Wulfgar picked up a bucket by the door. “I’ll return in a moment.”

  There seemed to be more air in the cabin when the great warrior left. It was bad enough that the bed took up most of the space in the single room. There was no other place to sit, not even near the fire. Once Wulfgar was clean and bandaged, he could very well strip me down and take me on the pelts. Would he go slowly and make sure I enjoyed it? Or fast, rutting me like an animal?

  Stop it, I scolded myself. Don’t think too far ahead.

  Stupid, that I hadn’t realized what being mated to a Berserker meant. At least I’d been given to Wulfgar and not Siebold.

  It could’ve been Fergus, I thought, and pain sliced my heart. He was young and sweet and I could’ve loved him forever, but I couldn’t allow myself to think on it. Right now I had to learn to love this brutal warrior. Some day I’d allow myself to grieve Fergus and what we might have had.

  A shadow moved to my left and I jumped. Wulfgar moved quietly for a such a large warrior.

  “My lady,” he said and touched my gown, now stiff with blood.

  Water beaded on his huge arms, and I realized he’d washed in the stream. He lifted the bucket.

  “I can fetch more water, if you wish to bathe. Though I fear your gown is too stained to save.”

  “Tis nothing.”

  “Please, Muriel. The scent of blood calls the beast.”

  At that, I stripped off my overdress and threw it out the door. My shift was made of plain, undyed linen, but it was enough to cover my form. Wulfgar’s eyes followed me as if I was clothed in the finest, form fitting silk, but it was better than him losing control.

  I faced the fire for a moment to regain a shaky grasp of my nerves. “I will see to your wound, if you will sit.”

  My heart pounded faster when I heard him settle onto the bed.

  Somehow I made it across the cabin to stand before him. As I worked, I kept my eyes on his broad chest, studying the weals and scars from a lifetime of battles and brawls. His whole life lay under my fingers, mapped on the firm muscle. The Berserkers were created by a witch’s curse long ago. Who was this man? What old pain lay beneath the scars and lines on his face?

  The gash ran deep over his heart, but the shallower ends were already closing. I ran fingers coated with healing salve over the worst places. At one point I had to work out a piece of Siebold’s claw, still stuck in Wulfgar’s flesh. The warrior didn’t even flinch at that. Yet when I stroked the ridge of an old scar, lower on his abdomen, he shivered and his hips jerked once.

  I stopped my examination at once.

  “Forgive me, little one,” he said in a harsh voice. “It has been a long time, and the beast has been close to the surface all day.”

  His golden eyes eyes pinned me. “What should I do?” I whispered

  “Be still a moment.” He bent closer, his breath stirring my hair. I stood frozen like prey hoping a predator will pass it by. After a moment, he sat back with a sigh. “It’s all right. Please continue.”

  “If you’ll stand, I can tie the bandage.” Relief poured through me when he moved away, off the bed.

  I had a nasty thought. Would Wulfgar expect me to already know how to please a man? My sisters had given me instruction, some straightforward and some more confusing. What if my new mate was disappointed in me?

  I almost jumped when he spoke. “You don’t need to fear me.”

  “Why not?” I asked, head bent to my work. I kept my tone light. “The rest of the pack does. Or should, after they watched you beat Siebold into a pulp.”

  As I reached for the herbs, he caught my wrist. “The Games were necessary. And fair. Siebold knew what he was getting into.”

  “Siebold is a bully.” When Fergus had been tackled, the blond had stood on the sidelines, laughing.

  “He is.”

  “Then he deserved what he got.”

  He let me finish tending his wound in silence. When I was done packing the poultice, he stood and rolled his shoulders, testing the binding.

  “Thank you, little one.”

  I bent to pack the unused bandages away. “It would’ve healed without my herbs. The gash was already closing.”

  “The magic that makes us what we are allows us to heal much faster, but my powers were focused on fighting today. And I believe that Siebold used poison.”

  “Poison?” I looked at the claw with horror.

  He shrugged. “Not a deadly one, but some sort of irritant he could dip his claw in. Not exactly against the rules, but it will delay healing.”

  My hatred of the blond bully increased, as did my rapport with this blunt faced warrior. “That’s horrible. I wish you had had a more honorable opponent.”

  “I don’t,” he said. “If Siebold had been honorable, I wouldn’t have taken so much joy in his defeat.”

  I recalled the bloody pulp on the field, and any connection I’d felt with my new mate vanished.

  Wulfgar cleared his throat. “And anyway, your ministrations are always welcome. It has been a long time since a woman took care of me.”

  I nodded, and scuttled to the hearth to put distance between us. My foot hit a stew pot and the top clattered off, filling the cabin with a rich, meaty smell. Whoever had prepared the cabin for us had left us a meal. “There’s food, if you wish to eat.”

  My stomach in knots, I barely touched my meal, while he demolished two platefuls. Other than crossing the room to serve him, I remained by the hearth as far away from him and the bed as I could be.

  When at last he finished, I took a deep breath. It was time to act, before I lost my nerve.

  I stood, drew the shift over my head, and let it fall to the floor. Standing with my naked form bathed only in firelight, my chin went up, but I couldn’t quite keep my voice from breaking, “If it pleases you, I’m ready, my lord.”

  At first, Wulfgar did nothing at all. When he finally stood up, I flinched, and he paused again. With a slow measured tread that reminded me of a hunter’s, he advanced.

  He touched my face, and I realized I was crying.

  “Oh,” I took a step back and ducked my head to dash the few tears away. “I’m sorry. I’m a silly girl. It’s just been a long day...and I’m not very brave.”

  Seating himself on the bed, he pulled me between his legs. I relaxed into his heat, even though I still quivered.

  “I think that it has been a long day, and the best thing for us is sleep.”

  My shoulders drooped. Already I had failed him. I started to dissent and he cut me off. “I need to rest as much as you.”

  “Forgive me--”

  “I don’t need your apology,” he said mildly. “And while I am grateful for your...willingness, I think it will be better for us to take things at a slower pace. We have a lifetime together, after all.”

  “Al-all right.”

  “Promise me one thing.” His finger tipped up my chin. “You will not think of yourself as a coward. It takes a lot of courage to disrobe in front of a stranger, a warrior you just saw lay waste to his opponents. Opponents who aren’t even enemies, but fellow packmates who did nothing wrong beyond competing for your hand in marriage.”

  I gulped. Wulfgar had left Siebold as little more than a blood-soaked bag of skin and bones. “They will heal, though, right?”

  “They will. You need not worry about them. We all would have done anythin
g we had to, to win you.” He let his head fall then, resting his forehead against mine.

  His fingers tightened on my arm. I stayed very quiet, listening to him breathe.

  When he raised his head, his eyes were bright gold. “It would be wise if you don’t speak of the other men in the pack again. For tonight at least. My beast is excited at winning the battle, and ready to finish the hunt.”

  I swallowed hard. I didn’t ask who was the prey.

  “I will never harm you, and I swear I will do my best to be gentle, but you are mine now, Muriel. And I will never let you go.”

  *

  Late that night, I lay beside my new husband, with my tears leaking onto the pelts. Over and over I saw Fergus fall. At least he had not been killed, I told myself.

  Beside me Wulfgar slept like the dead. Wiping my wet cheeks, I rose and went to the fire. I’d woven the little flower Fergus had given me into a band I wore around my wrist. I broke the band and fed it to the fire. I couldn’t go back to the past, only forward.

  “Goodbye Fergus,” I whispered, and returned to bed with my new husband, who didn’t stir.

  *

  At some point in the night, Wulfgar left the bed, for I woke a few times and he was no longer lying next to me. The fire in the hearth remained well tended, and in the lovely warmth, I fell back asleep.

  I dreamed of a fire rising and consuming me in the bed, until I lay in the center of the blaze but my skin did not burn. The flames became hands that stroked my bare flesh and slid over my stomach to part my legs. Fingers caressed my hip and massaged my legs and buttocks.

  The fire turned into coarse marsh grass rubbing against my back

  My eyes fluttered open. There was a man behind me, running his hands over my bare flesh, stirring up the fire within.

  Since I had met Fergus, I’d often imagined a man holding and touching me just like this. I had not forgotten the events of yesterday, I knew this was not Fergus, but still, I could pretend…

  Closing my eyes again, I let the fingers drive my excitement higher. My newfound lover knew just how to touch me, how to explore soft curves of my body and circle ever closer to my most sensitive areas, keeping my breath on edge.

  “Please,” I sighed when the callused fingers delved between my legs, stroking the thin skin of my thighs. I shifted to my back, and my legs fell open in invitation.

  “Is this what ye want, wee one?” A rough voice, barely recognizable as a man’s. The Berserker beast was close to taking control, but I didn’t care.

  Lips touched the back of my neck and slid to my shoulder. I sucked in a breath as canines lightly pricked my skin. The beast wanted to bite, to mark me. In that moment I was willing to bleed, if only the hand would not stop its movement between my legs.

  Pressing into the firm chest at my back, I parted my legs further and bent one into the air. The thumb ran along my lower lips, sending a shiver through me. My whole core was swollen and ready, pulsing. Fingers dipped into my wet heat and spread my honey over the petals of my sex. My hips jerked. A second arm snaked around my waist, drawing me flush against the long, hard body.

  If I closed my eyes, I could pretend I was with Fergus, and not any other.

  The hand between my leg started working, palm rubbing against the top of my sex sending little sparks shooting through me. My hips worked, rocking in rhythm. Warmth rose in me, building pressure ready to break and rush through me.

  “Yes,” I sighed.

  Teeth scraped my sensitive shoulder. Somehow the threat of pain blended with the advent of pleasure and pushed me closer to the edge.

  A low moan rang in my ears, vibrating from deep within my chest. My body was not my own; it belonged to the hand relentlessly moving between my legs.

  I grabbed the wrist with one hand, but my lover was too strong. Canines pricked my flesh just as my orgasm washed over me.

  My gasping cry faded as the man behind me pressed his lips to my nape. I rolled to my back, Wulfgar’s name on my lips. My voice died as Fergus smiled down at me.

  “Good day, Muriel,” he said.

  “How…” my voice was still clogged with sleep and my tongue slow to find itself after such pleasure. I glanced at the door.

  “Thought I’d sneak in and spend the morning with ye.”

  I pushed up, icy fear pouring through me, driving out any warmth. “Fergus, you cannot be here.” I pushed at his chest and he caught my hand and kissed it.

  “Ye wish me to leave?”

  My eyes were only for the door. “Please. You must go. You must run. This is wrong, so wrong.”

  “Muriel—”

  Wrenching my arm away, I staggered naked out of bed. One night, and I’d already betrayed Wulfgar. What would my given mate say when he returned and found the little red wolf in his new mates bed? Wulfgar had left Siebold a bloody mess on the field.

  If he caught Fergus, the smaller redhead would not survive.

  “Sweetling, calm yourself.”

  I backed away on bare feet, “You need to go. I’m sorry. I belong to another now. I will not break my vows. The peace is at stake.”

  The door behind me creaked open. Fergus’ gaze went to the the cabin floorboards which shook a little as Wulfgar entered.

  “Muriel.”

  “My lord,” I whirled. “I’m sorry.” My stomach clenched like a giant’s fist squeezed it. Eyes stinging, I pleaded as best I could. “Please, please do not hurt him.”

  “What is going on?” Wulfgar looked from me to the bed, Fergus.

  “It was my fault,.” I could barely whisper. “I led him on, made him believe…”

  Wulfgar didn’t speak; his face was stone. The creaking behind me told me Fergus was off the bed, coming towards me.

  His hands caught my hips and started to draw me aside. “Muriel, it’s all right.”

  Wulfgar finally spoke. “You lay with her?”

  “Please,” I threw myself between Fergus and the giant warrior. “Please have mercy. It was my fault. He is the first Berserker I knew and I fell in love. It was silly, stupid. I didn’t know I was going to be a prize in the Games.”

  For a tense moment Wulfgar didn’t say anything. I had a wild thought of me falling to my knees to beg, and Wulfgar leaping over me and gutting Fergus as he did Siebold. It didn’t matter what I did. The giant warrior could easily sweep me aside to kill his rival.

  Wulfgar rumbled. “You are more than just a prize, Muriel. Your opinion matters.”

  I opened my mouth, then closed it because I didn’t know what to say to that.

  “Do you care for him then?” Wulfgar asked me, jerking his head towards Fergus.

  ‘I...yes. I always will. But I am your mate now. I know that. I will do my duty and be true to you. I was weak. Please don’t kill him.”

  Fergus’s breath stirred my hair. “It’s all right, Muriel.” If I wasn’t so worried, I’d say he sounded amused. “He won’t kill me.”

  I tried to tell him to run, to save himself, but the words caught in my throat as he set me gently out of the way and approached Wulfgar.

  “Indeed,” Wulfgar said with a touch of amusement. “I won’t kill you, but you won’t live long if you don’t remember to watch her back around Siebold and his cronies.” His hand flung out to cuff Fergus, but the young wolf ducked. I gasped, but when Fergus righted himself he was smiling.

  “What did I tell you about baiting that blond bully?” Wulfgar grumbled. “Good thing you’re quick as a cowardly rabbit.”

  “Nice to see ye too, ye cranky old wolf. I was worried. Did no one teach ye to duck a blow before ye parry? Good thing your head is made of granite, otherwise ye wouldn’t have survived. ” Fergus said, and when Wulfgar growled and swatted at him, he danced lightly out of the way.

  My mouth hung open as I watched them pretend to spar.

  “Enough,” Wulfgar said, and shoved Fergus away. “Go stoke up the fire.” Before I could blink the giant warrior had crossed the room, and wrapped me in a pelt. With
his massive form, I kept forgetting how swiftly he could move.

  “We have a mate now,” he said, tucking the pelt around me with tender hands, and tsking when he saw my bare feet on the cold floor. Only then did I realize I’d been shivering, and my breath hung like smoke on the bitter air. Lifting me easily, Wulfgar carried me back to the bed. “We need to take better care of you.”

  “Someone ought to explain how Berserker bonds work,” Fergus gave Wulfgar a pointed look.

  “What’s going on?” I looked from one to the other.

  “You thought I would kill him for claiming my bride before me?” Wulfgar asked.

  I nodded, as I could barely speak.

  “Any other wolf I would. But Fergus and I share a bond, much like your sisters’ Alpha mates.” Wulfgar explained. “We share everything.”

  “Everything,” Fergus called. When I looked at him he waggled his eyebrows at me.

  “Though,” Wulfgar frowned at the younger wolf. “I should snap his neck for your first pleasure was mine to claim.”

  I gasped.

  “He’s joking, Muriel,” Fergus said, and faced Wulfgar. “Not my fault ye left the bed. “

  “She needed sleep.”

  “She woke easily enough for me,” Fergus smirked.

  Wulfgar growled and started to move, automatically I caught his burly arms. My hands were fragile as flower petals on a great corded trunk of a tree, but I made him still.

  “You plead for his life?” Wulfgar half frowned, and I quavered even though I knew he was mocking me.

  “Sweetness, he was teasing me.” Fergus came to the bed, still wearing an amused look. “Are ye still frightened?”

  “I didn’t…I don’t know.” A knot in my chest unraveled, and unleashed my tears.

  Wulfgar let me go and Fergus took his place. “It’s all right, Muriel,” he crooned. “Cry it out.”

  Clinging to him, I did. My sobs loosed all the tight emotions I’d locked up at the Games, the pressure that had weighed upon me ever since Ragnvald told me of my role in them.

  The whole time, Fergus cradled me, whispering comforting things. Wulfgar also hovered, concern on his scarred face.