by Lee Savino
The black wolf cocked his head as if trying to recognize me. I knew him once, but not anymore. Now he was just another monster inhabiting these woods.
I steeled myself for the fight, but in another moment, he huffed and trotted away. I continued on my route, waiting for a bird or a squirrel to venture into the snow and become an easy dinner. The cold didn’t penetrate my fur, but my bones remembered it from winters as a child. Blizzards here weren’t as mean, but a man wouldn’t last long.
Good thing I was no longer a man.
A part of me wished to follow the black wolf and attack. I resisted the urge. Wolves don’t fight for the sake of fighting. In this way, they are not like men.
The day would come when the battle lust would rule, but today was not that day.
I leaped off the rock and sniffed my fellow wolf’s tracks. We would meet again, I was sure. Until then, I’d keep to my own territory.
I made it as far as the mountain before stopping again. The snow was broken with fresh tracks. By the look of it, the trespasser was small, barely able to trudge through the gathering drifts. Whoever it was, they would not get far in this storm. Easy prey for a strong hunter.
As I came closer, my nose filled with the smell of this prey. Human. Feminine. And something more.
An intriguing scent. I bent my head and followed it.
13
Fern
The cold seared my lungs as I crept out of my hiding place. It took me a few minutes to push aside the snow laden branches, but at last I stumbled out into a world of white. Working my stiff fingers, I ate some snow.
A desolate landscape, white and barren, stretched before me and behind. I wished the wolves would howl again. Perhaps they were buried. Perhaps they’d died in despair.
With that bleak thought, I pressed on.
Svein
Over the course of the hunt, I came to know my prey’s scent, fresh and strange, clearly distinct from the blue frost smell of the cold. Each footprint bore a faint whiff of wintergreen, along with the smoky tang of woodfire. Underneath, some enticing sweetness, almost floral. Like long forgotten springtime.
By the time I caught up to my prey, I had fallen in the love with the scent. I was drunk with it.
A shape moved ahead, dark and clumsy against the drifts. I slowed and slunk behind a few bushes, but there was no danger of getting caught. My prey was tired, flagging, step by faltering step.
The hood fell from her head, and her hair blazed in the sunlight. Red, bright as a robin’s breast.
She fell. Before I knew it, I’d broken cover and rushed to her side. As I drew close, I slowed, stalking my prey carefully.
The young woman’s eyes were closed, but it was no mistaking her. She was the one Dagg and I took from the abbey, the one we’d claimed before—
I bowed my head close to her. She was still alive. For a moment, she twitched a little as if she sensed me close. The snowflakes hit her cheeks. The first few melted, but then they began to gather.
The Alphas told us they’d keep the spaewives safe. They’d promised. Why was she here? What drove her out in a blizzard?
Her lips were turning blue. If she stayed out in the elements, it wouldn’t be long.
I threw back my head and howled. Slowly, for the first time in months, I drew on my Berserker strength, and Changed.
14
Fern
Pain rushed through my limbs and I cried out. Someone was cursing in a guttural voice, more growl than voice.
“Damn this snow—”
Cold air swept over my body, and I curled into a ball.
“No, no,” the gruff voice ordered. Large hands caught my hands and chafed them. Slowly, my fingers uncurled. I moaned at the tingling pain.
“You still have feeling in your limbs. A good sign. No, don’t fight me. You’re safe now.”
I tried to speak, but my teeth started chattering. A second later, he tucked me somewhere warm. Bit by bit, the shivers left me. Again, I tried to mouth a name, but no sound came out.
“Hush. Rest now, little dove.” I rested my head against a strong, smooth wall, and listened to the heart beat.
“What were you thinking, coming out in the storm?” The rough voice sounded more human with each passing second.
I snuggled closer to him and let sleep steal me away.
When I woke again, I faced a crackling fire. Night had fallen again. The cold pressed in, the thin warmth from the fire barely holding it at bay.
A shadow stirred at my back. “Lass? You awake?”
I nodded
A large hand roamed over me, finding my hand and squeezing it. “You’re too cold. I need to leave soon and get meat.”
I fumbled with my clothes until I found the mouth of my sack. My fingers ached, but they worked. The warrior sucked in a breath as I drew out the hard tack.
“Bread? You’ve been leaving it for us.”
I nodded.
Stubble brushed my face. “Oh, lass. What did we do to deserve you?”
He took the supplies reverently. Too tired to eat, I lay back down, and my eyes fluttered closed.
For long minutes I fought sleep, wanting to stay with my rescuer. Warmth crept into my limbs.
It could’ve been minutes, or hours, but at last I climbed out of slumber and came back to myself enough to take stock of where I was. I lay on my side the warrior at my back, between the warrior and smooth rock. When I turned my head, his fingers tightened on my hip, but he seemed content for us to lie close together. His warmth seeped into me, giving me strength.
“You gave me a scare,” he rumbled.
I rose up and looked him in the eye. It was the light-haired warrior from the abbey, looking tired and more wild. His hair was longer, his light beard gnarled and matted. But it was him. Svein.
I touched his face.
He turned his head and nipped my fingers, then drew them into his mouth. “You should’ve at least wrapped your hands. I was afraid you’d lose a finger. You were so cold.”
I lay back down, nestling into him.
“I would not have found you, if not for your hair. Like fire in the snow. Bright as a robin’s breast.” He tugged a few locks, then smoothed them down. His body curled tighter around me. “Miss me?”
I nodded.
“You should not have come. We’ve been banished, Dagg and I. I don’t suppose you’re here to tell us the Alphas have given us pardon?”
I shook my head.
“I didn’t think so.” He sounded so weary, so different from the laughing warrior who’d carried me from the abbey. He’s always been more light-hearted of the pair.
Where was Dagg? Even as I thought, a howl broke out. It came from close by.
I raised my head and peered into the thicket.
“He’ll not come close to the fire. His mind is gone. I’m sorry, lass.” Svein kept stroking my hair as if to bring me comfort. Something told me he did it to comfort himself as well. “If you wanted to see my warrior brother, you’ve come too late.”
15
Juliet
Mornings in the lodge of unmated spaewives were much like ones in the abbey. As a former orphan turned nun, I’d often been tasked with watching over the abbey’s young charges. Only now I had giant, hulking Berserker warriors monitoring my every move, instead of the Mother Superior.
It was day three of the bad blizzard, and the girls were restless.
“I’m bored,” Meadow flopped on her bed, rumpling her dress. I bit my tongue.
“Can we walk to Laurel’s?” Violet asked.
“No, sweetheart,” I lifted her and set her beside Meadow. “It’s snowing too hard. Perhaps if you ask nicely, Meadow will plait your hair.”
“She needs a wash first,” Meadow said, but dutifully sat up and started piecing out strands of the younger girl’s hair to braid.
“Yes, when can we wash?” Rosalind spoke up. She sat in the corner with her sister, Aspen. The two blonde girls were as prim and still as dol
ls. Aspen’s plaits were perfect.
“When the snow melts, dummy,” Meadow said.
“Meadow,” I chastised her. “We can fetch snow and melt it in a tub.”
“Why don’t we make the warrior’s do it?” Rosalind asked. “They are eager to help. Especially you, Juliet.”
I paused, trying to detect any bitterness in Rosalind’s voice. She was a prickly one.
“I’d rather not impose on our guards,” I said.
“Why not?” Meadow asked. “They’d love to please you. Especially Jarl and—”
“They have more important things to attend to,” I spoke firmly, and rose and went to the hearth. Hopefully setting my back to the room would end the matter. The less I asked of the warriors, the better. I did not want to draw attention to myself.
So far no one had noticed my absences. It was only a matter of time before the secret got out, and then everyone would know I suffered the spaewife fever.
“It’s not fair,” Meadow muttered. “Sage and Willow and the others come and go as they please, and we’re stuck in here.”
“Our friends don’t go as they please,” Rosalind argued. “They are mated.” The twist of her mouth told the room she thought this was a fate worse than death, or slavery.
Meadow shrugged. “They have warriors who care for them and see to their every need. How is that so bad?”
“Perhaps you should go entice the warriors to draw you a bath. You seem eager to have one claim you,” Rosalind sniffed.
“Enough.” I turned from the hearth. “Meadow, finish Violet’s hair. The rest of us will tidy up the lodge. I’ll see about getting snow for washing.”
“Curse this blizzard and this lodge,” Meadow grumbled. “I would be glad to mate a warrior if I could only leave.”
“You could always sneak out at night,” Rosalind suggested. My skin prickled, and when I turned the older blonde sister was looking straight at me.
“I wouldn’t advise that,” I said cooly. “Who knows what dangerous beasts lurk on this mountain?” Inside, I was shaking. Did Rosalind know my secret? Would she tell?
“Did you send anyone to Laurel’s for bread this morning?” Violet cut in.
“No,” I said, and stilled as the young girl pointed to an empty bed.
“Then where’s Fern?”
16
Fern
Svein and I lay close, watching the snow fall. He’d found a rocky ledge and tucked us under the overhang. His great body warmed me through and through.
“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 somethin
g 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.”
