by Lee Savino
“I must send you back.”
“No. Please do not send me away.”
He raised a brow, waiting for my reason. I thought frantically. “They will punish me.”
His mouth tipped. “Do you think I will not punish you for risking your life in the blizzard?”
My heartbeat stuttered in my chest.
“Don’t look so shocked, little one. I half jest. I would never harm you. Not truly. Any punishment I give will be for your benefit, and mine.”
I looked at him curiously then, no longer afraid.
He stared out of the cave into the night. The trees were shrouded in white. No more snow fell, but when the wind picked up flakes and sent them swirling. “The monster beats at my skin, but with you here, I am whole. How many decades did I long for one such as you?”
I took out the last of the bread and offered it to him.
He shook his head. “Tomorrow I will hunt.”
21
The howling continued long into the night. I lay in Svein’s arms, listening. Dagg sounded like a wounded animal.
What would I do if it was too late? If their minds were truly lost? I had come so far and risked too much to fail them.
“Get on with you,” Svein raised his head and called into the darkness. “She’s not for you, or me. Not anymore.” His body was tense as he lay back down. “Don't cry, little one.” He said to me. “It will be all right.”
Nodding against his chest, I swiped the tears from my cheeks. Svein smelled of snow, and wood smoke, and damp fur. Solid scents that comforted me. My legs tangled with his, and the heat from his body warmed me.
But Dagg was still out there, howling in the snow, alone. Even when the sound stopped, I stayed awake a long time.
Svein woke me with a kiss on the lips. He was up and naked but for a pelt around his hips. Morning light slanted through the cave.
“I’ll be back soon. Stay here, and do not leave the cave.”
I huddled in the furs and dozed. Svein had built up the fire before he left, and I watched it slowly dwindle to ash. I should rise and add a log too it, but the pelts were just too warm. When the last sparks glowed deep in the charred depths, I sat up, then froze.
Beyond the mouth of the cave, near the bushes, the shadows moved. A large creature with dark, matted fur and glowing eyes lurked there. It kept hidden, sniffing and shuffling closer.
I was on my feet in a second. “Dagg?”
No answer, but the creature moved halfway into the light. A hunched monster, taller than any man, with the furry muzzle, paws and claws of a beast, came into view.
A growl made us both turn. A white wolf stood at the forest edge, teeth bared.
“Svein, no,” I cried, too late. The monster took a few steps back but didn’t escape before the wolf attacked. Snow flew. I shouted and waved my hands for them to stop, wincing as the wolf’s jaw clamped down on the monster’s arm. The monster rose on its hind legs, vicious claws raking at the great wolf’s back. Blood flew into the snow.
“Stop!” I picked up a log stacked by the fire and threw it. It bounced off the two of them. They broke apart for a moment, the monster staggering backwards. The wolf lunged for it again.
“No,” I shrieked. “Svein, it’s Dagg! It’s Dagg—don’t hurt him.”
Rearing back, the monster beat a retreat to the trees. The wolf remained, lips peeled back, muzzle streaked with blood. As I watched, its forelegs pushed off the ground, and the beast rose to its back legs, shaking off fur and turning into a man. My hair blew back with a sudden wind.
Svein stalked back into the cave, still moving with the lean grace of a wild animal. I rushed at him and pushed at his chest. “What did you do?”
Svein blinked in surprise. Blood trickled from his back and a cut on his face. More wounds from a stupid, useless fight. “Didn't you see?”
His growl cut off, his golden eyes searching my face. I realized I'd never raised my voice before.
“Did he hurt you?” Svein ground out. His eyes were bright and wild. The battle lust was still upon him.
I shook my head and held still as his hands roamed over me, reassuring himself I was whole. He sniffed my hair.
“Svein,” I whispered, and he pulled me into his embrace.
“Forgive me. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
“It’s not that.” I pushed away from him. “He did not want to fight you.”
“Little one…”
“I saw it. I was right here.” I thumped his bare chest.
Svein stood thinking. “What did he do?” He asked at last.
“Nothing. He came up to the cave, and waited there, sniffing the air.”
“He scented you.”
“Perhaps. But he did not venture in, even though I let the fire go out.”
“I never should’ve left you alone.” Shaking his head, Svein went to build up the fire.
“You had to. We need to eat.”
When he was done, he rose, dusting off his hands, and went to the clothes he’d left stacked neatly for when he returned from the hunt. I stopped him long enough to wipe the blood from his cuts. His eyes swept over me hungrily. According to the stories my mated friends told, the beast did not only lust for blood. I kept my eyes downcast and shook a little as I stepped away.
I ventured out of the cave to fetch some water and stopped. “Svein, come look.”
A bloody bundle lay under the bushes. A hank of meat, the fur still clinging to it. “He left a kill.”
Svein came and pushed me gently back to the cave. He sniffed the meat carefully. “Deer.”
“Don’t you see? He brought this here.”
“Good, because my hunt was futile. The prey in these woods are in hiding, frightened of Dagg’s monster.”
I huffed. “He’s not a monster.”
“What else would you call that thing?” Svein squatted in the snow to skin the meat and fetched some branches. In no time he had made a spit and my stomach was gurgling with the scent of roasting meat.
We ate well, thanks to Dagg. Svein let me fill my belly and devoured the rest, licking juice from his fingers.
“More snow tonight.”
I shivered. Dagg was out there, alone.
Svein stalked over with a pelt and wrapped it around me. His touch was so gentle, as if I was fragile and might fall apart.
“You need to go back, Fern. I cannot care for you.”
I knotted my forehead. “I did not come only for you to care for me. I came to rescue you.”
“You assume we can be rescued.”
“You are of sound mind.”
“Perhaps. For now.”
I bit my lip. I wanted so much to save these men, the only ones who could save me. “Does it help for me to be here?”
“Yes, it helps.” he admitted. “But I don’t know how long it will last.”
“It will last.” It had to.
Svein smiled as if my vow amused him. He tossed the meat bones out into the snow and built up the fire again.
Large shadows danced on the walls as I looked about the cave. This would be our home at least until the biggest snow drifts melted. When the Berserkers first took me, they spoken of a lodge they’d built for their mate. I’d dreamed of it. But for now, this cave would do.
Rising, I took off my cloak.
“I wish to bathe,” I said. Svein raised a brow. I took a scrap of cloth from my bag and a cup I’d brought. Once the water had warmed, I washed as best I could, wiping down my face and neck and running the rag underneath my gown. Svein watched with great interest, to the point where when it came time to wash my legs, I blushed and turned away.
I stood by the fire to dry, then dumped the water out of the cup and refilled it.
“Your turn.” Svein looked amused again, and it heartened me to see more of a smile on his tired face. Heat leapt between his body and mine, and I could not stop blushing. I focused instead on wiping the dirt from his face and neck. At my request he stripped
off his jerkin and bent so I could wash his hair.
“Of all the punishments I could devise, cleaning my dirty self is the worst,” he chuckled.
Watching the clean water run down his sculpted chest, I could not agree. I did not understand the magic in him, any more than I understood my own dreadful visions. But there was something between us, growing in the most unlikely place, a flower blossoming between a rock.
I set the cloth aside and splayed a hand against his hard chest. He sucked in a breath but didn’t move away. Leaning forward, I pressed a kiss to his collarbone.
A howl rang out, faint and faraway, from somewhere deep in the forest.
I startled back. Svein’s mouth curved ruefully, but he didn’t pursue me.
“Do you think Dagg is hurt?”
“It does not matter, little dove. He will not come near the fire.”
“You must try to find him,” I said, and ripped my sleeve. “Take this. It bears my scent.”
“I cannot leave you defenseless,” he choked.
“Take it. Go. I will stay by the fire. As you said, he will not come close. But we must lure him here.”
“You mean it.”
“I did not come so that he could die. I came to save you both,” I poked the fire.
“Very well.” he rose. He looked stronger, his cheeks and eyes less sunken. His face healthy in the firelight. “I will return.” He walked to the edge of the cave and hesitated.
“I will be safe,” I promised. “I will stay near the fire.”
His mouth drew up in a half grin.
“We always knew you would find your voice,” he said. “I am glad to hear it at last.”
22
Snow flurries filled the air by the time Svein returned. I’d kept the fire burning high, using the stack of wood he’d left and not venturing one step beyond the cave. As soon as his blond head came into view, I rose to greet him.
He grinned and raised his arm, showing me the rabbits in his hand.
“Oh, well done,” I breathed. His grin widened.
To my surprise, he advanced, locked his free arm around me, and caught my mouth in a kiss. Warmth shot straight to my toes, pooling at my center.
I broke away to ask, “Dagg?”
Svein jerked a head back the way he came. “There, by the rock.”
I had to look hard to distinguish the large dark wolf from the shadows at the edge of the forest. But it was him.
“He came. And in wolf form. But how—”
“No time to explain. Storm is coming, worse than the last. We must make ready.”
Svein set me skinning the rabbits while he fetched more wood. I fed the fire as he built a lean-to to shield the cave from the worst of the wind. Dagg, still in wolf form, hovered just in sight. Pretending to look for kindling, I found the old bones from our last meal, and flung them in his direction. When I turned, Svein was watching me, brows raised. I washed my hands in the snow and refused comment. But I sensed he wasn’t altogether displeased. Dagg was with us, and in wolf form. Whatever grip the Berserker curse had on him had weakened.
Svein flung a new pelt down and sat. He spitted the rabbits and cooked them. The dark wolf came closer, and we pretended not to notice. When we were done with our meal, I crept to the edge of the cave and held out my hand with the rabbit carcass.
“Careful,” Svein muttered.
“It’s Dagg,” I reminded him and myself. Not a strange wolf, not a monster. Dagg looked so dark and serious, but he had been kind and playful too. Not as playful as Svein, who’d often smiled. Tonight, Svein just looked tired.
I tossed the bones close to the wolf and returned to Svein’s side. I drew the warrior to the bed of pelts and pulled him down, tucking myself under his arm. The wind howled outside, loud as a wolf, but here in the cave we were safe in a pocket of warmth.
“Sleep,” I told him.
“I must keep watch.”
I raised my head to look for the wolf. Sure enough, the dark head was half in darkness, half in firelight as it worried the bone between its paws. He’d come right up to the lean-to entrance, lying between us and the wind. “Dagg will do it.”
Svein must have been too tired to argue, for he rolled over and folded me in his arms. I tucked my hands under his jerkin, resting my palms against the warm flesh. I wriggled a little to get comfortable and his cock grew against me.
“Careful,” he half growled.
I paused, then let my hand wander, finding the gap between his jerkin and breeches. His body tensed.
“Fern,” Svein rasped in my ear, “you must know what you do to me.”
I grew bolder, slipping my hand lower until it circled around his cock.
My cheeks heated but I met his golden gaze.
“I want—”
He dipped his head and claimed my mouth. His beard scraped my chin, but his lips were warm, pulling on mine, coaxing and claiming. He grew even larger and harder in my hand.
I whimpered, shifting my hips. He shucked down his jerkin enough to free himself. “Do what you will, little red. I am yours.”
I slid my fingers up and down, jacking him slowly. Fluid leaked from the tip. His flesh seemed so red and angry, throbbing under my touch.
“Does it hurt?”
Svein buried his face in my hair. “The scent of you is enough to drive a man mad. With desire, not rage.”
“I want to be with you,” I whispered. “Please let me stay.”
After a pause, he nodded.
“If it is safe, you may stay with us.”
I relaxed against him. The battle was won. Now for the war.
But first I would please my mate. I licked my palm and closed my slick hand around him again. His ragged breathing guided me, told me where to touch and stroke, when to squeeze and when to be gentle. His shaft seemed to swell in size, and I felt he was close to spending when he stopped me. His mouth found mine and kissed me into a daze. Need bloomed in me, so strong I forgot what I was doing.
A chuckle broke from him. “You act so shy, but you are fierce as a warrior. A wolf on the hunt.”
“Are you my prey?”
“No,” he said against my mouth, and rolled so I was under him, my hand still stroking him slowly. “You are mine.”
His mouth came to my neck and I gasped, arching up at the sensation shooting through me. With little nips and pulls, he worried my neck until it was aching and tender.
“When the time comes, we will mark our mate. She will have to be very brave and strong to hold the beast at bay.”
I bared my teeth at him and he chuckled.
“But soft, and sweet. She will quicken to our touch,” I sucked in a breath as his own hand went beneath my gown. “Just as we will ache under hers.”
“Do you ache for me then?”
“Every night. Every night.”
He moved and suddenly our bodies were in tune, working together against each other’s hands.
“Soon I will put my mouth on you, and make you scream into the night. You will find pleasure again and again, until you don’t remember your name.”
“Svein,” I whispered, jerking a little as sensation flooded through me.
“That’s it, take your pleasure.”
He rose up over me, watching me writhe. His fingers kept at it, sending little whips of pleasure through my shaking body. His eyes took in every movement, every moan, every expression.
“And now,” he drew out his cock and pushed up my gown, “You will wear my scent.”
He took himself in hand and tugged faster, frowning with concentration. I could only lay there, sleepy and heavy with satisfaction, as he spurted his seed on my thighs, marking me thoroughly.
“Fern,” he breathed and came back down to lie with me, curling his large body around mine. Within seconds he was asleep.
Before I let myself do the same, I craned my head. The wolf stood at the entrance of the cave, facing the wind. He would not join us this night as a man.
But
soon, I promised myself. Soon.
23
“For years we stayed in Norvergr, fighting for Harald Fairhair. Twenty or thirty summers, I think.” Svein glanced at the wolf who waited outside as if looking for confirmation.
I sat near the fire, watching the snowfall, half listening to Svein continue his story.
“Then we boarded dragon-headed ships and crossed the sea. There were some islands the king wanted to conquer. North of here. Do you know why they called the king ‘Fairhair’?”
“Because he had blond hair?” I guessed.
“That and he refused to cut it until he conquered all he could. Some promise he made to a lady.”
“Did he ever cut it?”
Svein shrugged. “He was the king. He did as he pleased.”
Outside the lean-to, the wolf slumped in the snow. The blizzard had dumped more onto the already massive drifts. I wished Dagg would come in but as Svein said, he kept his distance from the fire.
“Did you like fighting for this king?”
“Wasn’t a matter of like or not. We liked fighting. We were made for it.”
“The witch made you.” I kept my eye on the wolf, hoping our conversation would not trigger his battle lust.
“The witch turned us from men into fighting beasts, yes. Eventually we realized it was a curse. By then it was too late. We fought and conquered, year after year, until the madness claimed most of us. Some Berserkers left and followed one called Bodolf, and his son Ragnvald. Svein and I went with Sigmund, now called Samuel.”
“He’s the Alpha of the mountain.”
“He is the most powerful of us not because of strength alone, but because his control over the beast. Even then he was almost lost to the rage, if he hadn’t found his mate.”
“Brenna of the Berserkers.” I’d heard this story, whispered among the spaewives. She was the first of us and ruled as queen along with the Alphas. “So, it is possible for a warrior to be almost lost, and to return to himself.”
“It is not common, but perhaps it can be done.”
