by Lee Savino
“When I was separated from my mates,” I raised my voice. “My dreams returned. They plagued me during the day.” I sought Jarl’s face in the crowd. “Ask my friends... they will tell you what they saw. The only way for the visions to stop was to return to my mates. So I left and found them.”
A deep growl thundered from one of the warriors who’d come for Dagg. “You climbed down the mountain, alone?”
I wouldn’t have the courage to answer him if Svein had not been near.
“Yes.” I turned to Jarl. “I found my way down slowly. I snuck out when the guards were busy with the snow. They would not notice me. It’s not their fault.”
The Alpha on the throne planted his elbows on his thighs and leaned forward. Everyone held their breath, waiting for him to speak. All except the brown-haired woman who sat beside him. His mate put her hand on his leg. One touch and the Alpha seemed to think better of what he would say. “Speak on,” he commanded. His tone wasn’t unkind.
“I found Svein... and together we convinced Dagg to stay with us.” I smiled, remembering those few days when the hardest battle was the snow and cold and wolf who would not come near the fire. “My mates grew strong. Their beast was under control. They never hurt me.”
Someone was muttering, “She doesn’t know her own mind.”
Growls broke out around me. I clutched at Svein.
Calm yourself, little red. They are angry on your behalf. The Alphas bade you speak and none should interrupt.
The men around Dagg had lowered their weapons. He nodded to me, encouraging. I stood up, keeping a hand on Svein’s shoulder to steady me.
“Listen to what I have to say,” I shouted, and the ensemble went dead silent. They would listen, and they would decide whether to kill us.
“I had another vision, even by my mate’s side. And again, while I was coming up the mountain.” The wind rose as I spoke, and goosebumps rose on my arms. I shouted louder. “The Corpse King is waiting to attack. He gathers his strength. He tests our defenses, looking for weakness. I was weak because I did not trust my own mind. I needed the protection of my mates. But together, we will stand strong.”
I looked dead in the eye of the lead Alpha. “The mage seeks a stone, this big,” I showed him my fist. “And milky white. It glows sometimes. I Saw it lying at the bottom of a deep pool. The mage will use it... somehow.” I slumped a little, the energy leaving me. I did not have all the answers they would seek, but I had done my part.
The wind had risen, tearing at my face. Ice like needles fell from the sky. The Berserkers raised their shields against the sleet.
A cry rang out. A woman stood, arms outstretched over the assembly, chanting loudly. The wind whipped her honey blonde hair and skirts. Two Alphas stood behind her, hands out to support her.
The storm left as quickly as it’d blown up. On the throne, the Alpha had wet hair and cuts on his face from the ice that were already healing. He checked on his mate, who’d crouched with a second Alpha. They all straightened, faces calm and unshaken.
“She speaks of the moonstone,” the blonde woman said. She’d stopped the wind, so she was something of a witch. She’d be Sabine, one of the first Berserker mates. A spaewife with great powers. “The witches have all gathered to find what might defeat the mage. The moonstone is our only hope, but we must find it. Now we know it can be found, and that it lies at the bottom of a pool.” She looked straight at me. “Thank you, Fern.” With that, she wobbled a little on her feet, and her two mates came to support her. One, a burly man covered with bluish tattoos, swung her into his arms and strode into the cave.
“The moonstone,” the lead Alpha mused.
“I have heard only a spaewife can find it.” A silver-haired warrior said. “Perhaps this is her.”
“Our mate sees visions only. She is not the one to leave the mountain, but perhaps, in time, she will know more clues.”
“Truly, she has a gift from the goddess. She is not mad,” The one-eyed warrior said. “She has a gift.”
“Enough,” the lead Alpha said. “I have heard enough.” He stood, and his mate stood with him. Her eyes on mine were kind.
I waited, trembling for what judgement would fall.
“Fern of the Berserkers,” he said. “You have a sacred place in this pack as a seer, and our protection. Any wolf will defend you to the death, for someday, your visions may save all our lives. Thank you for speaking. You honor us,” he added, in a quieter tone, as if it was meant only for me.
Tears pricked my eyes.
“Dagg and Svein. Stand for your judgement.”
My mates stood. I reached for their hands. Whatever judgement fell we would face it together. If they were banished, I would leave with them. If they tried to keep me from them, I would escape. I would find a way. My destiny was twofold: to be a seer, and their mate. I would not stay with a pack that kept me from them.
It’s all right, Fern. Dagg squeezed my hand.
“You fought long and hard for this pack. Another fight is coming—the greatest battle we have known. But you have a special role.” He pointed at me. “The goddess has blessed us with a seer. A treasure, indeed. You are to be her guardians. Keep her safe, above all.”
“Above our lives, Alpha. So we pledge.” Striking their fists to their hearts, they turned and carried me away. I grabbed at their shoulders to steady myself, surprise and relief running through me.
The warriors around us shouted—some with glee, some angry. Some called for an attack on the Corpse King, some on my mates. The Alphas were on their feet, trying to restore order.
Dagg and Svein kept walking. A few of the warriors who’d brought us here closed around us, offering protection.
“This way,” one waved us at a fork on the mountain path. The group broke into a run and I clung tight to Dagg.
“Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see,”
“What about the cave? Our things…”
“We’ll send someone to get them. Do you wish to stay there, or in the lodge we built for you?”
I jerked in Dagg’s arm. “What?”
“Did we not tell you we would bring our mate to a lodge? We built it before we came to find you.”
Stunned, I held on as the warriors veered off the path, kicking through the drifts. They seemed lighthearted, chatting and calling each other as they forged a new route through the snow. It seemed my journey had come full circle, once again being carried to my new home, safe in my mate’s arms.
“There,” Svein pointed up to a ledge where a log building rose from the snow, smoke drifting from a hole in the roof.
“As soon as the Alphas passed judgement, we sent word to make ready,” one of the warriors explained to us.
“It’ll be quite a climb,” observed another. “Why did you build it on such a high ledge?”
“Privacy,” Svein said with a grin that made my cheeks heat.
The warriors fell silent then, focused on the climb. I noted landmarks—a twisted tree here, a great boulder there, as we wound up the mountain to the home my mates had built.
The lodge was built with a sharply sloped roof, jutting out from the side of the mountain. A fresh trail broke through the snow to the doorstep and as we grew close a dark-haired woman stepped out to greet us.
“Fern!” Laurel called. She stood swathed in a long cloak, her cheeks rosy above the fur collar. Her two mates followed, greeting their warrior friends.
Dagg let me down just as Laurel rushed up and threw her arms around me.
“I’m so glad you’ve returned. We were so worried.” She drew back. “Let me look at you. You are well?”
“I am.”
She hugged me again. “I’m glad. We left bread for you,” she whispered in my ear. “My mates smelled the crumbs and realized what you were doing. They approved.”
“Thank you,” I whispered back. She had left the bread and the honey.
“You must be exhausted. We’ll leave you now. I ju
st wanted to leave you a welcome gift.”
She drew me inside the dark lodge. The place smelled of new wood and smoke. Someone had started a fire in the stone firepit. Warriors streamed in and out, carrying wood stacking it close by.
“Here,” Laurel pointed out two baskets covered in cloth. “Sweet bread and meat pies. That should be enough until your mates are ready to hunt again.”
“Thank you,” I choked out past a lump in my throat.
Laurel hugged me again and left with her mates, holding their hands as they helped her through the snow.
“The Alphas will want to speak to our seer again,” the warrior Knut said to my mates. “The witches, too. They want to find the moonstone, so we are prepared for the Corpse King’s coming attack. We have until spring.”
“Later,” Dagg said. “Once our mate is rested.”
With final grins and slaps on the back, Knut and the rest of the warriors marched away.
“Well, Fern?” Svein stood in the center of the lodge, one boot resting on the stone ring around the fire pit. Smoke drifted up and out of a hole in the roof. “What do you think of your new home?”
I nodded, tears pricking my eyes. Tears of happiness.
“Lost her voice again,” Svein commented.
“It’s all right,” Dagg said gruffly. I knew he felt as overwhelmed as I did. “We will help her find it again.”
There was a bed in the back of the lodge, already heaped with pelts. Dagg propped me on it and cupped my head in his great hands.
“You did it. You spoke loud and clear.”
Swallowing hard, I nodded.
“And you will do it again. We will stand by you when the Alphas call you to consult.”
“Our mate, seeress for the pack,” Dagg spoke with great pride. He kissed my forehead, his beard tickling me.
“Were you frightened?”
“Yes,” I tried to remember. Once I’d opened my mouth, the words had flown out. “But after I spoke, I was not afraid.”
“We will call the witch Yseult. She will come and teach you how to use your gift. She will help you find your voice.”
“I’ve already found it.” And I had.
My mates had given it back to me.
Thank you for reading this book! I have several more Berserker bride books to write, including books for Sorrel, Juliet and Rosalind!
Much love to the Berserker fans who motivate me to continue the series. I appreciate you.
Smooches,
Lee
Tamed by the Berserker
“You are wild and disobedient. A threat to yourself and all others. To save your life, we must prove you are bonded and submitted fully to us.” His voice was a guttural growl.
I lick my lips and challenged, “And what if you fail?”
Thorsteinn snarled.
“We will not fail,” Vik said. "Sorrel, we’re going to tame you.”
***
Tamed by the Berserkers is best read after the Berserker Saga & the Berserker Brides series.
***
The Berserker Saga
Sold to the Berserkers - – Brenna, Samuel & Daegan
Mated to the Berserkers - – Brenna, Samuel & Daegan
Bred by the Berserkers (FREE novella only available at www.leesavino.com) - – Brenna, Samuel & Daegan
Taken by the Berserkers – Sabine, Ragnvald & Maddox
Given to the Berserkers – Muriel and her mates
Claimed by the Berserkers – Fleur and her mates
Berserker Brides
Rescued by the Berserker – Hazel & Knut
Captured by the Berserkers – Willow, Leif & Brokk
Kidnapped by the Berserkers – Sage, Thorbjorn & Rolf
Bonded to the Berserkers – Laurel, Haakon & Ulf
Berserker Babies – the sisters Brenna, Sabine, Muriel, Fleur and their mates
Night of the Berserkers – the witch Yseult’s story
Owned by the Berserkers – Fern, Dagg & Svein
Tamed by the Berserkers — Sorrel, Thorsteinn & Vik
Mastered by the Berserkers - coming in 2020, Juliet and her mates
Sorrel
Firelight played in the bars of my cage, mottling my bare arms as I chafed them. The wind whispered and whined around the rocky heights, cutting through my jerkin and breeches and tugging at my hair like a band of mischievous demons. My cage swayed in the wind.
Below, far below, down the path and away from the ledge, the warriors built a bonfire higher and higher. Huge logs were sacrificed to feed the fire. Dozens of warriors stood around it, drinking and eating meat and calling out encouragement to build the blaze higher and higher. They’d started the fire at the same time I’d been locked in the cage. A torture of light and heat too far away to feel.
Two warriors emerged from the path and my heart leapt up, only to sink again. These were not my warriors. One waited while the other untied the rope and lowered my cage. With a smirk, he let go when the structure hovered a foot off the ground. The cage crashed down, jarring me. I gritted my teeth and kept my face blank. The guards would not see me cower.
One of them kicked the cage bars with his boot. The warriors busied themselves with the straps to untie the door. Before they came, I’d loosened them myself, only to stop. Escape would’ve meant I’d had to jump from the height. Even if I hadn’t broken bones, I would’ve had to climb down this part of the rocky mountain, avoiding all the Berserkers who might harm me. According to the shouts drifting up from the bonfire, there were many warriors who did not want to follow the Alpha’s order to leave me unharmed until my trial. They wanted my blood.
I was safer in the cage. When the door fell away and the warriors stepped back, I stayed where I was.
One warrior squatted to glower at me.
“Out,” he barked. I crawled out of the cage and forced my cramped limbs straight. Even standing, I wasn’t half the height of the warriors. They loomed over me, glaring.
“Who gave her breeches?” the first asked.
“It’s what she was wearing when we found her,” the second tipped his head to the side, studying me.
“She dresses like a man. Unnatural,” the first muttered, and turned away.
“Hands,” my second jailer ordered, and when I lifted them, he looped a noose around my wrists and pulled it tight, careful not to touch me. They led me from my cage on the ledge down the narrow mountain path towards the bonfire.
A third warrior met us on the path before we stepped into the great clearing. He blocked my path, looming over me. I kept my gaze fixed on his bare chest, refusing to look in his face.
“Ragnar,” one of my guards cautioned, but Ragnar waved a hand and they fell silent. Without seeing his face, I felt his rage and disgust, directed at me.
“Rosalind has not woken. The healers say she may never wake.” The warrior’s voice dropped in pitch, becoming even more guttural. “Her sister mourns.”
I closed my eyes and swayed on the path. In my mind’s eye, Rosalind lay on the grass, still as death. I didn’t need the warrior to tell me what I’d done. What I’d regret for the rest of my life, but did I have a choice?
We stood there for some time, Ragnar blocking my path. The wind tore at my face and hair. Behind me, my guards breathed down my neck. If my guards decided I should die here, now, they could fling me off the ledge. I would be powerless to stop them.
At last Ragnar straightened. “The Alphas are waiting,” he said in a clearer voice. “Hurry up.”
The guards behind me prodded me forward with their weapons.
As we moved down the path, my knees shook with relief I didn’t deserve. I almost wish I’d spoken up, goaded Ragnar until he pushed me to my death. The pain in my heart grew with every step.
We entered the clearing and a thicket of warriors bristling with weapons. They growled as I passed, their hate hitting my face like heat from the roaring inferno. Ahead the bonfire snapped and crackled, its reddish claws tearing into the night sky.
More Berserkers lined my route. The ones in wolf form snarled and snapped at my heels. I set my face in stone, marching past hulking men and giant wolves. They will not see me cry or shrink in fear. Not tonight.
My foot caught a stone, causing me to stumble. A few warriors smirked.
“Careful,” one of my guards muttered, but made no move to help me. At last we reached the bonfire and my place to stand judgement. I stepped onto a long flat stone, holding up my chin and keeping my gaze on the fire.
Across the huge bonfire four Alphas ranged on a crop of giant rocks. Two stood with arms crossed over their chests. One sat on a throne-like rock, solemn as a king. The firelight turned his hair to gold. As soon as I was in place, he rose and spread his arms. The assembly fell quiet.
“My brothers, we have gathered to pass judgement on a grave matter. The spaewife Sorrel stands before us accused of treason.”
“Murder,” someone muttered. Probably Ragnar.
“Silence,” the tattooed Alpha growled. “Samuel speaks.”
After a pause the seated Alpha, Samuel, continued. “We’ve heard the story of what happened, as best as we can guess. Three days ago, Sorrel left the safety of our borders and entered the lands controlled by the Corpse King. With her was an unmated spaewife named Rosalind. We do not know why they left. We do not know how they survived three days’ journey, even though the Corpse King’s soldiers patrolled the area they walked.”
“Traitor,” a voice at my left spat. “She is league with the Corpse King.” A wolf snarled.
Samuel raised his voice. “We do know how the search patrol found them: Sorrel armed with a sling and pouch of stones, her friend fallen from a blow to the head.”
A great murmur flared from the assembled warriors, blending with growls from the wolves.
“Silence,” another Alpha ordered the crowd, and the muttering died.
Samuel continued. “We captured both and brought them back here. Sorrel is as you see her. Rosalind lies as if sleeping, suffering from her wound. There is evidence they struggled. If Rosalind dies, Sorrel will be guilty of murder.”
