The Berserker Brides Saga

by Lee Savino

  Svein and I passed the time easily in our cave. I’d brought a cup, some bread, the clothes on my back, my cloak, and boots. A few extra clothes, small packets of herbs and a bit of soap. I didn’t have many possessions, but these few supplies would help me make our camp a home.

  Svein and I worked to make our cave cozy. Outside winter had the world in its frozen fist, but inside was safe and warm. Svein was clever with the fire, building it under a crevice in the cave ceiling so most of the smoke went up and out, while the heat stayed. We also wore coats made of fur—every time he left to hunt, he returned with a white pelt that smelled of winter.

  I cleared the last of the cobwebs and brush and piled the furs on the large flat rock that made our bed, scattering lavender from my pack around it. I kept water heated over the fire, using wintergreen leaves to make a soothing tea. Svein often left early and returned before I was awake with armfuls of firewood or game. His lean face filled out a little and he lost his hungry, haunted look. With each kill, I dried meat and set it aside, storing it as I would if we lived in a proper lodge.

  One afternoon he returned late in the day. I greeted him with relief. He stooped and kissed me before showing me what caused the delay—a parcel of fresh bread, along with piece of honeycomb.

  “Where did you get this?” I rewrapped the honey comb and licked my sticky fingers.

  “Someone left the loaves on the bridge.” He caught my hand and helped clean my fingers, but that did not distract me from blurting,

  “You climbed the mountain? It’s dangerous for you to go so close to the pack.”

  He shrugged. “They will not catch me. But you need to eat, little red. You’re already too small.”

  “Not anymore.” My own body had grown stronger, my breasts bigger. I was not big and beautiful as Laurel, but I’d noticed my gown tight around my chest. “You feed me enough meat. I’m not used to eating so much.”

  “You’re so little. You need more food to withstand this cold.” His own cheeks were ruddy from the wind as he stoked up the fire.

  “You keep me warm,” I reminded him, and was rewarded with a flash of heat his eyes.

  We ate the bread with honey and began our evening ritual. Every night I insisted we bathe—or clean each other as much as we could with just a little warm water and a soapy cloth--before we sank onto the furs to enjoy the comfort of each other’s arms. I wetted the scrap of linen and scrubbed around Svein’s neck and ears, rinsing it and swiping the soap for a little lather. His blond hair grew dark with damp as he bent his head and submitted to my ministrations. Concentrating as I was, I didn’t notice his grin right away, not until he nuzzled my neck.

  “Your turn,” he murmured.

  “Not yet.” I swatted him with the cloth.

  When he raised his head, his eyes blazed gold. In one movement, he pulled me down and under him. I sprawled on a pelt, eyes wide as he took the cloth. Straddling me, he tugged down the neck of my gown.

  I made a noise, afraid he’d tear it.

  “I’ll find you another,” he promised, but stopped short of ripping the garment off. The wet cloth had cooled; as he ran it along my collarbone, my nipples hardened. Carefully he rubbed around my neck and behind my ears and moved away. I started to rise, but he returned, having rewet the cloth.

  “I’m clean,” I said but let him lay me out again.

  “Not yet,” he drew up my skirts. His smile turning serious, he washed up my legs in slow swirls that set my core throbbing. He rinsed the rag again and returned, kneeling right between my legs so I had to set my knees far apart.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I have been a poor teacher, if we’ve been together so long and you don’t know.”

  “We weren’t together so long.”

  “Long enough for you to know to whom you belong.” his gaze heated me. “Long enough for your body to know its master.”

  He laid the hot, damp cloth right on the thatch of red curls at the apex of my thighs. I sucked in a breath. My body tightened, quickened, a taut bowstring ready to be plucked. With a wicked look, he cleaned me carefully, taking his time tracing my lower lips and dipping into the folds.

  “One day, I will shave you.”

  My eyes widened.

  He arched a brow. “Would you like that, little red?”

  “I... ohhh…”

  Cupping my pussy, he slid a finger inside me. My body clenched, and my hips came off the pelts. Svein explored me with a lazy finger, his touch no more than a tickling whisper that made me long for more. “Does not matter what you wish,” he commented. “You will submit to my desires. I will shave your sweet cunny and keep it as I wish.” He pulled out his slick finger and licked it. “Delicious.”

  I whimpered.

  Tossing the cloth away, he stretched out over me, finding my lips. I caught a taste of myself, a wild, earthy essence, and when Svein drew away I realized I’d been rocking my hips toward him, seeking more stimulation.

  “Such a pretty wanton you are.”

  “I am not wanton.”

  “For me. Only for me.” His lips caressed my neck, down my shoulders, across my neck. “A flower growing quiet under the snows. You melt only for me.”

  And Dagg, I wanted to add, but he claimed my mouth and I forgot anything else.

  The wind picked up, Svein drew the furs over us. On one of his raids, he’d brought back a large bear robe, and I’d sewn a blanket to it, making a large pocket we could slip into. My legs tangled with his, my body twining around his great one.

  He set his knee between my legs and rocked it back and forth, pushing me closer to the edge.

  “Svein,” I gasped.

  “That’s it, little red. Take your pleasure.”

  I gasped as sensation rushed through me. My body bucked against his leg. Panting, I clutched at him.

  “Good girl,” he murmured, stroking my neck as I came back down.

  “I left you wet,” I told him and hid my face in his chest.

  “It’s all right,” he chuckled. “I enjoy wearing your scent. And I will mark you with mine.”

  “Tonight?”

  “You need your sleep,” He kissed me again, and settled me in his arms.

  The fire crackled, and I raised my head enough to see the dark head of a wolf at the mouth of the cave.

  Satisfied, I lay back down. Dagg had started to spend the nights here. He kept the shape of a wolf, but I imagined each night he came a little closer to the fire.

  I fell asleep with a smile on my face, and my body warm in Svein’s arms. My sleep was deeper, more restful. My dreams were there, waiting for me beyond the veil. The skeletal specter stood in the mist and gloom, but he could not reach me. Wrapped in the warm presence of my mates, I was safe.

  25

  The next morning, I stretched out my legs, coming awake slowly. The cool air on my face and the solid warmth at my back.

  The sun slanted into the cave, over the snow drifts. The snow had stopped a day or two ago. It’d been five—or was it six—days since I’d come. The cave was not the lodge originally promised me, but at least we had shelter.

  The fire was low—Svein would have to replenish our wood store soon. Odd that he was still abed this late, but I would not complain. I snuggled back into his chest.

  And froze as soft, thick hair tickled the back of my neck. The man behind me was not Svein. He was broader, with a long beard that scraped my bare shoulder, and a wild scent.

  “Miss me, little dove?”

  I jerked upright at the rough voice. Dagg lay there, a grin under his thick beard. The lines were deeper on his forehead and there were dark circles under his eyes, but it was him.

  “Dagg,” I breathed and scrambled to face him. He chuckled as I ran my hand down his hard body, reassuring myself with his warm skin. He was human, and he was whole.

  “Fern,” he murmured. I ducked my head and press my cheek against him, listening to his heart beat. His hand come up to cup the back of my
head, and we rested like that.

  “So small,” he mused, stroking my hair. “I forgot how little you are.” He tugged a lock of my hair. “So fiery. I remembered this flaming hair, even when my mind was lost.”

  I let out a little shuddering sigh.

  “Don’t cry, dear one.” HIs hand slid along my nape and I held him tighter. “The madness is gone, for now.”

  “You’re so quiet.”

  “Svein doesn’t think so. He says I vex him.” I raised my head enough to look at him. “Back at the lodge of unmated spaewives, I barely spoke.”

  His fingers flexed against my neck. “Why did you come?”

  “I couldn’t leave you,” I whispered.

  “Svein is right. You are safer with the pack.”

  I lay my head against his chest.

  “I was angry with him at first. He should’ve sent you away. But I am glad he did not. You ease the madness. But I’m afraid I’ll never be whole.”

  I cuddled against him. In his arms I felt safe from my own madness. My body pressed flush to his, fitting perfectly.

  “I suspect neither of us will be able to send you away. Just as well. My mind is not whole but perhaps you are the missing piece.”

  “Svein will not be happy I am here. He seeks to protect you from me.”

  “You keep me safe.”

  “I hope so.”

  I took his wrist and laid his hand on my collarbone. “Touch me, Dagg.”

  His cock grew against my leg. “It has been too long. I must keep control.”

  “Do as you will,” I whispered.

  His mouth fitted over mine. At first, he went slowly, almost lazily feeding on my mouth. His hand found my breast and I gasped. Shifting his weight over me, he left my mouth and worried my neck, drawing from me little whimpers and cries.

  He kissed down my body, and for all his talk of me being small, he took his time. He lingered at my knee and came back up nuzzle between my legs. His beard tickled. But when I wriggled he gripped my hips and held me still.

  “Who do you belong to?” he asked, his gaze hot on mine.

  “To you,” I said, and moaned when he rewarded me with a hot mouth on my aching center. “Dagg,” he made me pant, his teeth scraping perilously close to my vulnerable heat, his tongue wicked and darting into every part of me.

  When he was done, he wrapped me in a pelt and pulled me into his lap. We sat in front of the fire, me content, him sifting fingers through my hair.

  A shadow loomed in the mouth of the cave.

  “Svein,” I cried. “Look. Dagg has returned.”

  My light-haired mate nodded to his warrior brother, who rose. Both stood watching each other warily.

  Dagg’s bare chest still bore marks from Svein’s claws, and under Svein’s clothes, I knew he bore the same.

  “He is returned,” I repeated. “We can be together again.”

  Svein shrugged.

  When I stood, some of Dagg’s spend trickled down my leg. I ignored it and went to Svein, though my face heated to the root of my hair. His lips twisted wryly, as if he knew why I blushed. I took his hand and walked him back into the cave, near the fire. The two men faced each other, tense.

  “How was your hunt?” I broke the bitter silence. None of my friends from the abbey would believe I could make conversation like this, but I felt I must ease the way.

  “Well enough. I got a buck and left it to drain outside.” Svein drew his axe and ran a finger along the bloody edge before using a rag and some snow to clean it. “Hunting would be better if a monster hadn’t driven all the prey away.”

  A low growling sound filled the cave. It came from Dagg. I returned to his side and it stopped.

  “You must bathe. Here, Svein brought me a cauldron to use, and I have cleansing herbs.”

  Dagg answered “My wolf plunged into a freezing stream for you.”

  I grimaced. “This will be less painful.” I bustled about, making ready. When the water was warmed, I tugged at the dark-bearded warrior. “Come on. Before it gets cold.”

  “Perhaps Svein will get us more wood for the fire.” Dagg turned a pointed look to Svein.

  “I’m not leaving.” The blond folded his arms over his chest.

  “This is Dagg,” I reproached Svein. “Your warrior brother. I’m safe with him.”

  Dagg touched my hair. “He remembers a time that wasn’t true.”

  “That was the Corpse King’s doing. He turned you against us.”

  “Even so, he must atone,” Svein said. “Trust isn’t easily regained.”

  “The curse has receded. The madness is at bay. But I will atone.” Dagg knelt and took my hand. “I will atone.”

  Dagg stayed kneeling for me, and even then, I had to lift the cup high to pour it over his head. Svein kept guard at the mouth of the cave, arms crossed over his chest, mouth set in a grim line. He watched Dagg as Dagg had watched us for so many days. Did Svein think I betrayed him? Was the bond between them so broken, we could never again be one?

  As if he heard my fearful thoughts, Dagg murmured, “There is a still a bond between us. He just wishes there were not.”

  I swept the cleaning cloth over his broad chest, wincing at the half-healed cuts under the dark mat of hair. “You need to make peace.”

  “Soon, little dove.” He tugged me close. “First, let me enjoy my bath.”

  “It’s not a real bath,” I whispered. He slipped a hand up my leg and heat came into my face again. I twisted a little out of reach. “I need to wash, too.”

  “Leave it.” He raised his chin and sniffed the air, eye bright. “You should smell of me, always.”

  I swatted him with the wet cloth. Rucking up my shift, I started to climb into the caldron, where I could thoroughly cleanse myself.

  Strong arms banded around my middle. I shrieked, but Dagg lifted me easily and carried me to the pelts. He dropped me there and I rolled, dodging him. He rose, blocking my exit with his giant body. He caught me again, by the shift, and I wriggled out of it, laughing. Another grab and we went down together. Somehow, I ended up on top.

  “I’m still messy,” I protested when he pulled me down and hooked a heavy leg over mine.

  “No sense getting clean when I’ll only get you dirty again.” His deep voice was guttural as a bark, and his eyes gleamed so bright I knew the beast was near.

  A long kiss later and I rubbed wantonly against his hard midriff, angling my body and sighing as I reached for relief.

  “Easy,” Dagg growled, and pulled a pelt over my shoulders.

  Heat broke through me even as he chided, “You’ll catch a chill, little dove.”

  “You will warm me.” I twisted and reached out to Svein, who had come inside the cave, the better to watch over me. “You both will.”

  “Peace, brother?” Dagg called. “For her sake.”

  “For her sake,” Svein agreed. “Peace.”

  I pushed off Dagg and he let me go running to Svein. Dancing up to tiptoes, I wrapped my arms around Svein’s neck and rewarded him with a kiss. He took control. With fist in my hair and large hand splayed over my bottom, he walked me backward until we neared our bed. Then he turned me firmly and, with an iron arm banded around my waist, drew my hair aside and fastened his lips on my neck. A bolt of lightning shot from his lips to my core. My knees buckled, and I sagged, suspended by the arm locked around me.

  “Little red,” Dagg knelt before me, at the right height to take my breasts in his mouth. Svein’s hand slid down my front, cupping my heat. His fingers dipped inside.

  A moan shuddered through me, once, twice, again. I writhed, pinned between two men intent on delivering delicious torment. My breasts grew full and heavy under Dagg’s lips. His beard tickled me

  Svein’s breath was hot on my neck, finding the most sensitive spots to worry. His teeth scraped my pulse, sending primal shivers through me. Any little bit of fear dissolved and drowned in desire.

  Dagg’s kisses reached my cunt and I arch
ed in Svein’s hold to push into Dagg’s willing mouth.

  “Do you want us?” Svein caught my earlobe between his teeth and bit gently.

  “Yes,” I gasped. My inner muscles clenched around Svein’s questing fingers. Svein’s teeth traced down my neck, and I remembered what my friends had said of their warriors, how Berserkers claimed their mates. Perhaps this would be a way to link Dagg and Svein together again.

  “Claim me. Mark me.”

  A second later, Svein set my feet on the ground. “Making demands, are we?”

  “Wait—”

  Svein’s hand closed around my neck, angling my head to face him. “You sacrifice yourself so that I might link to Dagg?” His heated gaze was almost menacing. My pulse fluttered against his palm.

  “No, I just…”

  Svein turned me to face Dagg.

  “What shall we do with this naughty one, who risked her life coming down the mountain to save us?” Svein asked.

  “Teach her to mind. Teach her who she belongs to,” Dagg answered gruffly. His mouth was mouth stern under his great beard.

  “Please, I—”

  “We’ll mark you, little one. But not in the way you desire.”

  My legs gave out and Svein caught me. “I wish to shave this.” His great hand cupped between my legs.

  “Not bare,” Dagg frowned.

  “No,” Svein agreed. “I like to see a little tuft of red.”

  I squirmed, face hot, mortified that they would speak of this. A minute later, I was on my back, splayed comfortably on the pelts, with Dagg kneeling between my legs.

  Svein produced a knife and whetstone. He tested the blade against his finger and sharpened it some more.

  Dagg washed me carefully with warm water, and pressed hot cloths to the apex of my legs. When they cooled he took them away and replaced them with his mouth. My body surged up into that one point of contact, pleasure trolling slowly through me.

  Then Dagg was gone and Svein took his place. Firelight glinted on metal.

  “Frightened?”

  I shook my head.

  “You should be. We are monsters. But you did not have the sense to be afraid.”