Shifters Forever Worlds Epic Collection Volume 3

by Elle Thorne

  “What is it that you want my help with?” Calder wondered if his brother needed a weapon or clothing, or a place to stay.

  “I need you to help me die.”

  “Help you die?” Incredulity and horror colored Calder’s voice. “I cannot do that. You know I cannot.”

  “You must.” Halvar dropped to his knee in front of Calder, taking his hands in his. “You must release me from this hell I’m in.”

  “That is a depravity I will not commit.” Calder’s jaw muscles were taut with tension. “You cannot ask me for that.”

  Despair and hopelessness filled Halvar’s face. “I think the day has been long enough.”

  Calder rose to his feet, put a hand out to help his brother up. “Come to the cabin, sleep in comfort.”

  “I prefer the open air now. I no longer can sleep under a roof. Maybe if you have a fur or two that you can spare?”

  “Of course, but you are not leaving in the morning light, are you?”

  “That I am not.” Halvar’s smile was grim.

  Chapter Twenty

  Several cold nights later.

  Calder couldn’t have said what woke him. One moment he was asleep, an arm flung around Brenna, the next he was sitting upright, his heart pounding.

  Except, it wasn’t only his heart. It was his bear too. His bear, though silent, though chained, was in a state of panic.

  This was a new sensation for Calder. He rose to his feet, making sure Brenna was snug under the covers, and reached for his boots, then his axe.

  Slipping outside, he noted the fire was still in a roar. Halvar had never come inside to sleep, preferring to spend his nights outside under the sky, always keeping the fire going.

  But this time, his brother wasn’t laying near the fire.

  “Halvar?” Calder kept his voice low so as not to disturb his family.

  Maybe his brother had stepped away to relieve himself.

  Calder paced the fire to wait, paced because something had left him—and his bear—unsettled.

  He inhaled and tried to pick up other scents with his sensitive shifter senses. He blocked out the fire’s aroma and sought something… anything.

  Blood!

  But whose—

  That was when he heard it. The tiniest of sounds.

  He glanced about him, trying to place the noise, to locate the source. Calder stepped away from the fire and began to survey the perimeter of their camp.

  There!

  He ran toward Halvar.

  His brother was leaning against a tree, blood flowing from a slash in his throat.

  “Brother!” Calder reached to hold up the slowly falling Halvar, sliding down the tree’s rough bark.

  Placing his hands under his brother’s arms, he kept him from dropping to the ground.

  “What—” Calder noticed the bloody blade in Halvar’s hand. “No, Halvar. No!”

  “I cannot live this way.” And with that, Halvar’s eyes closed, and his heart stopped beating.

  At the same moment, Calder’s bear fell silent again, his presence once more gone.

  “Calder?”

  Brenna stood not far, silhouetted by the fire.

  Calder adjusted his body, so she couldn’t see the horror.

  “Go inside. I’ll be there in a little.” He fought to keep his voice from choking, to keep her from knowing.

  She should not have to bear this burden as well.

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  “Sleep,” he told her. “I may be a while.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  It was near dawn when Calder joined Brenna in the bed.

  “Halvar?” Was her only whispered word.

  “Yes.”

  A single tear made its way down her face. For this, he was thankful. This woman of his, she’d forgiven his brother and he’d had peace for a few days, enjoying his nephews, laughing once more.

  Calder sent a word of thanks to his own bear for not turning on him this way. And it was then that Calder swore to himself that he would not let Halvar’s death go unavenged.

  He might not personally seek vengeance himself, as that would break Brenna’s heart, but Calder would make sure his sons knew of this tragedy. Of the stories of the Valkyrie and how they’d been created and the way their witch had destroyed his tribe and their bears. And Halvar. And Calder’s bear.

  A fury burned in Calder, and if he did not have his woman and children to consider, he’d have sought revenge.

  Brenna’s eyes were on his face, and he wondered how much of his emotions he’d allowed to show.

  “I wonder if your bear would do that to you.”

  He took her face in her hands, gently, pulling her lips close to his. “Never.”

  “How can you know?”

  “I do. I simply do.” He studied her face. “I need to send Halvar off properly.”

  She waited, letting him speak his piece.

  “I have to take him to the ocean. Build him a raft. Set him to sea in a pyre.”

  “I am not familiar with your ways…”

  “It is not something I need help with,” he assured her.

  “But I will not let you go alone. Gunnar and Torsten and I will go with you.”

  He shook his head. “No, it’s not right to make you three go out in the cold.”

  She took his face in her hands, mirroring what he had done, only her grip was much fierce. “I will not take no for an answer. I must be with you. Must make sure your bear is true to you. That he does not betray you as Halvar’s betrayed him.”

  Calder knew there was no way to argue with this woman. He could tell her mind was set. “We shall leave tomorrow morning, then.”

  “The children and I will be ready to go.”

  He kissed her lips. “You do not need to. I assure you.” Still hoping to change her mind.

  “I know.” Her expression turned serious, pensive. “We will not be far from the village, true?”

  She didn’t have to say what village. The village of the damned incident where he lost his men and his bear.

  “True.”

  “I would like to leave the children with you and go talk to Freyja.”

  He contained a snarl. The witch that caused all this.

  “Why would you want to do that?” He wondered if he really needed to ask that question, but he needed to be sure.

  “To beg her to return your bear. To find a way not to let what happened to Halvar happen to you.”

  He exhaled in frustration. Why didn’t she believe that his bear—his relationship with his bear—was different than Halvar’s situation.

  She took his hand in hers. “Please.”

  He studied their hands, hers so small next to his own. How could this woman, smaller than he, less powerful than he, hope to protect him? He realized this was important to her. How could he deny her? And then a thought occurred to him.

  “What if they decide you’re the enemy, since you now consort with the enemy?”

  “Do you not trust me to speak carefully?”

  He let the matter drop.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Brenna walked toward the village slowly, reflecting on the day’s events.

  After a beautiful ceremony, attended by the tiny family of four, Calder had set the torch to the raft with Halvar’s body and set his brother adrift to return to whatever gods their people prayed to. She’d left their sons with Calder in the cave where they’d once sought refuge, and made her way to the village.

  Nearing the village, Brenna picked up the scent of smoke from the fires, of cooking, of enjoyment. She heard the voices of merriment and happiness. She also picked up the sounds of weapons clashing, metal clanging, the grunting of effort during battle.

  What was this?

  Why did she hear the noise of battle coupled with the laughter of delight?

  She stepped into the clearing and found herself faced with a spectacle she could not have imagined.

  Eerika and Astrid, dressed in
armor, bearing shields and axes, swords as well, were sparring.

  Surrounding the two were an assortment of women, also attired the same way, also sporting weapons of war.

  Brenna froze. She studied the visage before her.

  What was missing?

  Men.

  There were no men.

  Then she noticed the sounds had stopped, and all the women had turned to look at her.

  “Brenna?” Astrid strode toward her followed by Eerika.

  “Is it really you?” Eerika frowned. “Can it be?”

  “It is I.” Brenna didn’t step forward, still caught off guard by the spectacle. “What are you doing?”

  “Training,” Eerika proclaimed, striking her shield with her sword proudly.

  “Training for what?” Brenna frowned. “Where are the men?” Surely the village had some men? It had been several years. Had they not found new husbands? Had other family members not joined the women? “Won’t they protect you?”

  “Men?” a woman behind Astrid scoffed. “My mother has made men obsolete and unnecessary to our world.”

  Brenna looked hard at the woman. “Helga?”

  “Indeed. Proud daughter of Freyja.” The woman then mimicked Eerika’s motion and struck her shield with her axe.

  Freyja! The very woman who could help Brenna. “Where is your mother now?”

  “She is not here.” Helga’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you ask?”

  “I seek her assistance.”

  Astrid and Eerika stepped forward, pulling Brenna away and out of earshot of the group. Helga followed, staying slightly away, but still close enough to hear.

  “What happened to the man you forsook us for?” Eerika hissed.

  “Where is he? Did he perish?” Astrid’s expression was hopeful.

  Brenna quickly realized there would be no help and no quarter given by these women. There would be no help for Calder. She had to extricate herself as swiftly as she could, without giving away that Calder was well and alive.

  “I traveled here alone, did I not?” She raised a brow and locked gazes with Astrid, who seemed to be the leader, though Eerika could be a close second.

  “What is your business with my mother,” Helga insisted.

  “I was hoping for her expertise. Perhaps some training in her skills.”

  Eerika folded her arms over her chest. “Why is it that your father and husband say they have not seen you? Astrid saw your father. He declared you dead. As did your husband.”

  Brenna swallowed uncomfortably. “I am dead to them. How did Freyja make them obsolete? What about having children?”

  Astrid and Eerika belted out bawdy laughter, looked at each other as though enjoying an inside joke.

  “We find ones that can serve that purpose,” Astrid informed her.

  “And the only babies we give birth to are girls.” Helga’s tone carried pride.

  “If you’re traveling alone, and have no home, join us.” Astrid picked up a sword and shield from a pile of weapons and held them out to Brenna.

  Brenna thought of her two sons. She had questions, but more than anything, she was anxious to be gone from this place.

  The bitterness the women harbored was evident and understandable, but Brenna did not share in the sentiment. She had a good man, two wonderful sons, and a third child on the way. She had no desire to be a part of a group that so clearly had no use for men.

  “I cannot. I must be on my way. I had hoped that I would see Freyja, but since she is not here…”

  “My mother does not stay in any one village. She visits several. She is worshipped among our people, viewed as much more than a high witch. She’s godly born and divine fated.”

  “Thank you, sisters.” With this final word, Brenna made her way from the village that so much history had been made.

  She had her own history to make.

  First Epilogue

  Calder’s fighting sons

  Years later.

  Calder studied his sons. All three, now nearly men. Gunnar, Torsten, and Halvar. The last, born not long after his brother Halvar’s death.

  Gunnar pulled back the string on the bow and nocked the arrow.

  Careful, son, do not let the elk hear you.

  But Calder did not voice the thought. He’d brought his boys up well, they were strong hunters, good men. He and Brenna had done a fine job. He cast a glance backward at the woman who’d claimed his heart.

  She caught his gaze and smiled back. She’d never told him what resulted from her visit to the village all those years ago, the visit that he knew she’d hoped would set his bear free. That had never happened.

  What did happen, which was the final stroke that led Calder to tell his sons about his life’s dream—he’d learned his sons had bears. And like his bear, theirs were chained to never make their presence known.

  He’d learned this when Gunnar was six summers old. Gunnar had come to him, told him he could hear a roaring, but could not find the animal that caused the roar anywhere in the forest.

  That was the day that broke Calder’s heart. His son’s bear was a prisoner. It was the curse that he carried and passed on to his sons.

  He’d found out, as the years progressed, that the curse passed on to each of his sons.

  His hatred had grown renewed for the witch Freyja who had not only killed his men and taken his bear, but also killed his sons’ animals.

  The last part of the curse, well, Calder had not learned that immediately.

  Oh, no. That had been revealed to him two years ago when he and his family had been set upon by vagabonds who traveled through the wilderness and made victims of all they came across.

  It was when this group made the fatal mistake to attack Calder and Brenna’s family that Calder learned the nature of the final part of the curse that Freyja had visited upon them.

  Oh, yes, this curse that caused him and his sons to become like beasts in battle, cutting down the men, moving with a speed and a bloodlust with vastly more ferocity than any shifter Calder had ever known.

  The curse’s overpowering strength was such that Calder caught Torsten’s hands around Brenna’s neck when he pulled him off her.

  The bloodlust blinded Torsten to all but the others who would berserk, killing at will.

  Torsten had shed tears, putting his young head in his mother’s lap and begging her forgiveness.

  And Calder’s fury and hatred for Freyja and her kind burned more fiercely than he could have thought possible. It was because of her he lost his bear, and nearly lost his mate.

  After the melee, after the brigands that had set upon Calder’s family were dead, Calder took his sons out to the forest to talk to them, to explain what had happen.

  He’d told them about the village. Their people. How they had once been bear shifters and now were cursed by the witch. How his boys carried the curse, and as far as he could tell, it would be transferred as such, from father to son.

  He also told them about the Valkyrie, a secret he hadn’t even told Brenna about.

  For Calder held a secret. On his many hunting trips, he’d not only brought back meat to sustain his family, he’d visited the village where it all began.

  He’d seen the women. The Valkyrie. He’d noted the way they trained. He’d witnessed their hatred of men.

  And he’d fostered his own hatred. He’d noted the Valkyrie. He’d seen an occasional visit from Freyja. And he would have attacked, if he’d thought for a moment he could be victorious. The thought that he might lose his life and leave his mate to fend for herself and their sons had stayed his hand and his temper.

  It had not, however, quenched his thirst for vengeance. He would carry this desire, and he would pass it on to his sons, that was his intent.

  So, he’d told his sons about the witch and the Valkyrie, their uncle Halvar. He’d told them everything, and when they grew older, he’d taken them to see the Valkyrie village. He’d taken them three years in a row, until the last time, when
they’d found the village gone, all signs of where they’d gone carefully hidden.

  Calder and his sons had scouted, studied the ground for any sign of which direction the women had gone. There was no hint, no clue. It was obvious there was a deliberate attempt to keep their tracks hidden.

  Why? Did they know he was watching them? Did they know he targeted them? Spied on them? Was that why they’d moved?

  “Where do you think they went?” Gunnar had asked him.

  “I do not know, son.” But he made it his mission to find out.

  And his sons had made it their missions as well. And their sons’ sons. And so on, and so forth, through the generations, the rivalry of the Valkyrie and the berserkers was born and fostered.

  There would be no peace between them until the berserkers’ bears were returned to them.

  Second Epilogue

  Freyja’s final words

  In a village far from the cave, far from the massacre that had happened so many years ago, Brenna visited a merchant.

  No longer was she recognized, no longer did she fear being discovered by her father or the abusive husband she’d once had.

  Still, she covered her hair, wore a scarf so it would hide part of her face, because, ultimately, she did wonder if she’d be found out. If Calder would be discovered. If the Valkyrie would wreak havoc on her life.

  She ran the fabric the merchant carried between her fingertips, knowing his was not something she’d be able to afford. She’d chosen her life, and she did not regret it. Fabrics from far away were not to be a part of it.

  A wonderful mate and three healthy sons were the path she’d taken.

  She had no qualms regarding the choices she’d made.

  “You have fine sons,” a voice said.

  Brenna knew that voice, but had not heard it in years and years. She turned slowly to face the speaker.