by Lee Savino
“Sorrel,” the rough cry met my ears. My warriors searching for me. I wriggled back up the slope and picked leaves from my jerkin as I walked back to Vik and Thorsteinn.
They left you. A voice grated, picking at a tiny loose end of my faith, unraveling it. I heard it often at the lodge of the unmated spaewives. Rosalind never ceased her torment.
The boar hung upside down from a tree, ready to be turned into meat.
“Sorrel,” Vik stuck his axe into a tree trunk and came to me, stopping before he ran a bloody hand over my head. “You’re unhurt.”
“I ran,” I said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more help—”
“You did well,” Thorsteinn said. “I told you to run.”
“Yes.” But I still felt like a coward.
“We should not take her on the hunt,” Vik said, crouching to wipe his hands on the leaves. “It is too dangerous.”
“Sorrel did well,” Thorsteinn regarded me with granite eyes. What did he see?
I shivered and wrapped my arms around my body. Vik dropped a pelt over my shoulders and wrapped it around me, fussing like a girl dressing her doll.
“We’ll carve up the boar, soon. In the meantime, we’ll build a fire. Can you help, little warrior?”
I nodded
“Stay close to us. We have called some of the pack to help us transport the meat. It would not do for you to cross paths with them.”
Miserably, I agreed.
While the warriors prepped their kill, I wandered through the trees, gathering sticks. Vik and Thorsteinn discussed cooking the meat here. Perhaps they’d build a giant bonfire and celebrate their hunt. Call their warrior brothers to drink and eat. Would they first have to tie me to a tree, like a disobedient dog? I would not be welcome by the pack’s fire.
I was not welcome anywhere. Wandering out of the warrior’s sight, I let my armful of kindling drop. My head ached. So did my body, with old, remembered punishments. It would be good to lie down and pretend.
I’d wandered into a patch of mist. Cold and thick, it reminded me of the Corpse King’s fog. It was such a relief to lie down and close my eyes and pretend to be nothing. Pretend to be dead.
A crow cawed nearby. I rolled and realized how close I was to the cliff’s edge. So many people’s problems would disappear when I did.
I lay back on the comforting ground. The mist flowed over my face, covering me like a death shroud. Vik and Thorsteinn would be busy skinning the boar, preparing it for transport. At some point they’d come searching for me, but I couldn’t face them. Suddenly, all I could think of was escape.
Gripping the bush tight, I leaned out. It wouldn’t take much. Just a careful descent. With the right handholds, a light body could climb down the cliff. The Berserkers could not follow fast enough to catch me.
I could be free. And they wouldn’t have to bother with me. They could choose another mate. It hurt to think of it, but I’d be long gone. I had the skills to survive the wild. Ironically, the warriors had taught me the skills I’d need most.
And if I met my death, so be it. No one wanted me anyway.
Sorrel, a voice whispered in my head. The merest brush of consciousness, like a light streaming in through cracks in a door. Before it could entice me, I slammed the door shut.
Time to leave.
I wriggled down the hill, escape on my mind. The mist flowed around me, twin white streams. I caught a whiff of rot—
The shadowed skeleton reached out a hand—I drew my sling—
I sat upright. I was on the cliff ridge, my legs dangling over the edge. Why was I here? My head ached.
Jump over… The sinister whisper echoed in my ears. But that could not be right, I did not want to die. All I’d ever wanted was to live my life in peace. A secluded hut deep in the wilderness. Away from everyone.
Climb down...
The wind whistled between the rocks. Far below my feet, the mist gathered, thick as a cloud. I rubbed my head. I could not be thinking of climbing down. Not from this height. It would be certain death.
I pulled myself back. The mist coiled behind me, a snake ready to strike.
You cannot go back. Thorsteinn and Vik will never want you.
I curled in on myself, pressing a hand to my breastbone to counteract the pain. The voice was right. I could never be the mate they deserved. My only recourse was to escape. Now. Down the cliff. The mist will show me the way.
Holding a root, I extended a leg to find the first foothold…
The root broke and I scrambled, digging my hands into the loam. For a moment, my feet kicked in the air. I lost my grip and with a yelp, I dropped—
And landed on a protruding stone. The wind whistled around me, but I was safe, until I poked my head out to gauge the rest of the way and became dizzy.
Go slowly. Don’t be stupid. Fine things to think when suspended over a deadly drop. This whole enterprise was stupid. What had possessed me to run in the first place?
Worthless, another voice hissed. Run before they do you harm. You aren’t wanted anyway.
Another memory, fighting out of the mist. Come to me. A skeletal hand beckoning, but not to me. To Rosalind. The mist surrounded us, seeping into our bones.
The Corpse King became powerful, the warriors had told me. The mountain was warded, but I had faced the enemy twice. Could I be sure what was in my own head?
No. Not if I was hanging half off a cliff. It was shameful, how easily I succumbed to the Corpse King’s lies.
Now I had to pull myself back up. An easy task when compared to explaining myself to my warriors.
My feet scraped the stones. While searching for a toehold, my balance shifted. The rock under my hand came loose. I yelped and pressed myself to the rock face. My feet dug into the rock, trying and failing to find footholds. My left hand had the only secure hold, but even that was slipping. When it did, there would be nothing to keep me from plummeting to my death.
The wind picked up and cut through me, cold slicing like knives. The stone scraped my cheek. I was so stupid. I had done this, run again. Why?
The mist, the thought tugged me. You lay down and the mist covered you. The same mist that surrounded you and Rosalind.
Stranger things have happened. Vik had said. I heard his voice now, as if he stood behind me and spoke in to my ear. Sorrel—do you think magic was somehow involved?”
If I lived through this, I would tell them the truth, I promised myself. I would tell them everything.
But first I had to live...
A huge hand came out of nowhere and ripped me away from the cliff wall.
My captor pulled me aloft. I came face to face with a monster. Black, with a splash of silver on its elongated snout. Thorsteinn. And he was angry, his golden eyes burning me.
I opened my mouth and he roared. My hair blew back from my face and I shut my mouth. Now was not the time to explain.
He dragged me back to the campfire where Vik waited, arms crossed on his chest. I ducked my head so I didn’t have to meet his eyes.
Sorrel, the voice came again. It was definitely Vik’s. I’d heard him along with the Corpse King. Was I going mad?
Vik crouched and looked me carefully in the eye.
“She’s in shock. What happened?”
“I caught her making her escape. Climbing off a cliff.”
“I wasn’t leaving,” I protested. “I started to, but then I realized it was futile and stopped.”
“Not soon enough,” Thorsteinn snarled and I winced. “We know you wish to escape. To run. But we cannot tolerate you putting yourself in harm’s way.”
I didn’t wish to escape, though. Not until I’d heard the Corpse King’s treacherous voice. Here with the warriors it all became clear. “I’m sorry. About everything.”
“We know,” Vik murmured. “Sorrel, can you tell us what happened?”
“It was the mist,” I said. “The mist made me feel… heavy. It confused me.”
“Did it?” Vik murmured.
“I think I know what we’re dealing with,” Thorsteinn growled. He was fully man again, gathering his hair behind his head and braiding it. “The Corpse King has many weapons.”
“The mist told me—” I stopped.
“Go on,” Vik prodded me gently.
“It told me you don’t want me. That it was better for me to run… and die…”
“Listen well,” Thorsteinn was over me in a second, snarling, “You belong to us.”
I knotted my hands in my lap. “You can’t wish to keep me.”
“You believe lies,” Vik insisted. “The Corpse King is in your head, and he twists your thoughts. but he is not strong enough to defeat you.”
“We thought he put up walls between us, but in truth the walls are yours. And we will breach them, one way or another. Together we will tear them down.”
He and Vik exchanged glances before stiffening.
I heard it then, the crack of a branch in the woods. Someone was coming towards us, and not bothering to be quiet about it.
“Incoming,” Vik warned.
“They cannot see her like this,” Thorsteinn brushed at my clothes. I looked like I’d been rolling down a hillside—which I had.
“Time to put on a show. You can do that for us, right, little wolf?” Vik caught my chin, something in his expression pleading.
“Yes?” I looked from one warrior to another. What was I agreeing to?
“Then fight me,” Thorsteinn growled, and pounced.
The flock of Berserkers came upon us wrestling, Thorsteinn clad in a torn jerkin and breeches from his Change, me wriggling like an eel to escape him. Vik greeted the visiting warriors. Sure enough, they all glared at me. One I recognized from his visits to the lodge.
“Jarl, you did not have to leave your post.”
“I wanted to see how you fared with your charge,” Jarl said.
I forgot for a moment to fend off Thorsteinn and he pounced, lifting me by the back of my jerkin, like a kitten carried by the scruff of its neck. Nose to nose with Thorsteinn, I dangled in his hold. “You will do as we order,” he growled.
“I am not your pet.” My old angry litany was easy to repeat, but now I had to stifle a smile.
“Oh,” Thorsteinn pretended to fume, “but you are.”
“I see she is not quite tamed,” Jarl said.
“No. But it is better when they fight,” Vik drawled. “We enjoy it.”
Holding Thorsteinn’s gaze, I kicked. He twisted to avoid a blow to his sensitive parts, dropping me. I rolled to my feet and scampered off.
“Enough,” Thorsteinn thundered but I kept running, only to find my feet dancing in air as he snatched me back. “Enough,” he closed his teeth around my earlobe and bit gently. I went limp in his arms, only to stiffen as he carried me back to the group of warriors.
“I would think you might tire of such a troublesome mate,” Jarl was saying.
“No,” Thorsteinn plopped me down and gripped my shoulders to keep me in front of him. “We let her go once. Never again.”
“I have a message for her from a spaewife,” Jarl said.
I sucked in a breath but kept staring at my feet. If I looked up at Jarl, he might think I was challenging him. Thorsteinn and Vik would protect me, but they would not be pleased.
“What message?” Vik growled.
“Juliet sends her greetings,” Jarl said. I felt his gaze crawl over me. “And this: ‘Forgive me. It was my fault.’ Tell me, Sorrel,” Jarl squatted to make me face him. “Why would Juliet say such a thing?”
“That is not for Sorrel to answer,” Thorsteinn pulled me back against him. “Surely that is a question for Juliet.”
“Sorrel knows. She is keeping secrets,” Jarl pointed his finger at me like a spear.
“That is our concern, not yours.”
“Not if I go to the Alphas and demand that Sorrel be questioned.”
“You do that,” Vik warned, “And we will insist that Juliet be questioned as well.”
Jarl snarled at that. He cared for Juliet. “Juliet did nothing wrong. We will make Sorrel talk.”
“You’ll not lay a hand on her. She is ours to deal with,” Thorsteinn rumbled.
“And are you dealing with her? She is not cowed or contrite. I do not see signs of punishment.”
“Do you not? I will show you how we deal with her disobedience.” Thorsteinn turned me to face him, and our play acting began again. “You ran from me.”
I bared my teeth at him and growled like an animal. Vik ran a hand over his beard to hide his grin, but Thorsteinn remained stern.
Still holding me fast, he unbent an arm ring from his right bicep. “Time after time we give you a chance to prove your obedience, and time after time you defy our protection,” he intoned, “This mountain is full of warriors who want you dead. If you will not acknowledge us as your Masters, we will bind you and force you to obey until you do.”
“But—” I protested, and quieted when he shook me.
“You insist on behaving as a wild animal?” He held up the silver ring. “Very, well. We will treat you as one.” Wrenching the arm ring open, he curved it around my neck. “Now a chain.”
I opened my mouth to protest but Thorsteinn fixed me with a glare.
“Jarl,” Vik drawled, holding out his hand. I understood then. The Berserker had come to us with a chain to bind me with. Thorsteinn would be sure they used it—but only my warriors would touch me.
Jarl handed off a long length of iron links. Vik bent the last link open with his fingers and Thorsteinn took it and fastened it to the arm ring. When they stepped back, I wore the silver band around my neck attached to a chain. A collar and a leash.
Thorsteinn backed up. “Come,” he ordered, and tugged the leash. This was too far.
Trust us, Vik’s voice whispered.
I went to grab the chain and Vik collected my hands behind me. “Touch it and I will bind your hands behind your back.”
“I am not a dog to be led like this,” I hissed.
“No,” Vik murmured. “But you are our possession. And if you insist on acting like a wild wolf, we will make you our pet.”
Thorsteinn snapped his fingers. “Come.”
I had to admit the watching pack members looked impressed by my treatment. I fell into step behind Thorsteinn, hoping he would not lead me like this all the way home.
Sorrel
We headed home, Thorsteinn pulling me by the leash, Vik taking up the rear. When we reached the great tree, they set me right in the basket. Only when I was in the tree lodge did Thorsteinn unleash me. I waited for him to remove the silver ring from around my neck, but he left it, saying, “I want you wearing something of us.”
“But—”
Thorsteinn bent and kissed me. “You did well.” He rubbed his stubbled face against mine. “I know that was not easy.”
I let out a shaky sigh.
Vik rose from building the fire, dusting his hands. He went to the rope ladder and disappeared.
“He goes to collect our portion of the boar meat. The warriors we called took it away.”
“Will it always be like this?” I touched the ring around my neck, but he knew what I meant.
“For a time. But the pack will see you mated to us and forgive you.” He ruffled my hair. “One day, it will be all right.”
My shoulders slumped. Back at the cliff, I had vowed to tell them the truth, but even if I did who would believe me? The pack certainly wouldn’t. Vik and Thorsteinn could shout my innocence from the mountain, and they’d be reviled like me.
Vik and Thorsteinn didn’t deserve such a troublesome mate.
“You should send me away,” I told him.
“Never.” Thorsteinn tipped up my chin, eyes flashing. “Why do you think we would abandon you?”
“You already did, once.”
“We told you we would return. But I see,” the longer he looked at me the more his hand softened. “It was a long lonely winter. We d
id not know the spaewives would torment you. We thought there would be some comfort.” Leaning forward, he rubbed his stubbled cheek on mine. “Do you know why we stayed away so long?”
I shook my head.
“It takes everything in us to restrain the beast. And when we are with you, Sorrel,” his voice deepened, “I fear we are at the end of our control. There were days, whole moons we retained our monstrous shape.” The firelight glittered in his eyes, there was a sudden wind, that bore with it the scent of the air after a fierce storm. A moment later it died away.
“But we should have told you. We should’ve claimed you long before now.”
“Why didn’t you?” The regret in his voice made me brave. This softer, gentler Thorsteinn I did not have to fight.
“We thought we had,” he traced the mark on my right shoulder. The skin still bore the red scar of his bite. “When it became clear you were lost to us, distant, it was too late. We could not restrain the beast.” His hand dropped to rub my back, soothing.
“Ho,” Vik called as he appeared at the entrance with a pot. Thorsteinn went to help him. I joined them around the fire, reaching for my portion.
“No,” Thorsteinn pulled me into his lap. “I will feed you.”
I put up a token struggle until he snapped his fingers, his features growing stern. “You will take the food from my hands. Each meal will remind you who cares for you. You rely on us for every bite.”
“I am not your pet.”
“Are you not?” he asked, his voice deepening. “You are whatever we say you are. If we wish you to crawl and go about on all fours, we will order you.”
“Is that what you want? To see me humbled? Groveling? Begging for each bite?”
“Oh, you will beg,” Thorstein promised. “But not for food. We will train you to desire our touch. You will desire us above anything, and we will claim you thoroughly.”
My breath came unsteadily, but I raised my chin, my stubborn expression answering him.
We stared at each other.
Thorsteinn dipped his head close to mine. “You cannot win this battle of wills. You will accept food from my hand and sit either on my lap or on your knees at my side. Choose.”
“Lap,” I snapped, and crossed my arms to show my disapproval. When he brought my portion to my lips, I ate hungrily.
