AEgir (BERSERKER WARRIORS #1) - Lee Savino Page 0,19

my father.

“Not lies,” I answered for myself.

Dòmhnall turned his sneer to me. “They told me you were taken but here I find you whole. Did you whore yourself to him?”

I drew myself up. “You insult me, Dòmhnall. I owe you nothing. Go home.”

“I don’t know what happened here, but I can see the results. My chosen bride is a whore. And you concoct fantastical tales to protect her nonexistent virtue.”

“Take care, Dòmhnall,” my father finally spoke up.

“You let her lie with any man… tell me why I shouldn’t put all of you to the sword and take this island by force?”

He advanced, blade high.

“Stop!” I flung myself between them to save my father. Most men would hesitate to strike down a woman. But Dòmhnall grabbed my arm and flung me to the sand.

“Muireann!” my father cried. Dòmhnall’s men barred his way to me.

“Whore,” Dòmhnall spat, standing over me. “To think I once wanted you. In my father’s house, we mark women like you, so men will know to be wary of your snares.” The blade flashed down and I cried out, scrambling backwards.

A roar blasted over the water.

Dòmhnall’s sword stopped. “What was that?” His wide eyes searched the sea. But there was nothing. Dòmhnall’s men turned as one, their weapons high. A fog covered the horizon, advancing quickly. The roar sounded again.

“No,” I breathed. The mist curled up onto the beach, covering me where I lay, obscuring the legs of the assembled men.

“Not again,” Danny moaned, backing away from the surf.

“What was that sound?” Dòmhnall demanded. “What is this strange weather?” He and his men turned this way and that, weapons high as if the metal could beat back the mists. They stood waist deep in it now.

“The Sea Wolf,” I answered, a mix of joy and horror welling in my heart. “He’s come for me.” Again.

Another roar and a wolf’s howl.

Dòmhnall’s men were clamoring, standing in their boats, waving their weapons at a threat they could not see.

The great Viking ship appeared, plowing through the grey. Gasps echoed all around. Judging from the fear written on the older men’s faces, the dragon head still struck terror into men’s hearts.

“It’s not possible,” my father breathed. “It’s not real.”

With a heart-stopping thud, the ship struck Dòmhnall’s boats, sending men flying into the surf.

“Real enough,” I murmured.

Dòmhnall’s men on the beach waded to help their brothers out of the water. But it was too late for the men by the boats. One by one they cried out as a dark shape attacked them. One by one, they disappeared before their comrade’s eyes. The mists swallowed the bodies up.

The remaining men retreated to land, their eyes darting this way and that.

“What are you waiting for?” Dòmhnall screamed. “Shoot him!”

A few of his men dropped their swords and drew bows. A twang and arrows flew into the wall of grey. I held my breath. One heartbeat. Two.

The small boats drifted out of the fog. They held Dòmhnall’s men, dead, pin cushioned with arrows.

Dòmhnall’s remaining men cried out.

“The Sea Wolf did this!” I shouted. “He is real. Throw down your arms now, and pledge peace, and your life will be spared.” I would plead with Ægir to make it so. No more needed to die today.

But Dòmhnall spat into the sand.

“If he is real, he can die,” Dòmhnall snarled. “Come then, Sea Wolf,” he called. “Face me like a man.”

“No!” I cried, whirling towards the mist. Willing Ægir not to hear Dòmhnall’s challenge.

Dòmhnall pulled me to him, a rough hand at my neck.

“Is this your whore?” Dòmhnall shouted to the ship. “Is this who you want?”

I fought, scratching and trying to bite, wishing I had my knife.

“Let her go,” came my father’s frail cry.

Dòmhnall dragged me into the surf. “She’s already naked,” he taunted. Batting away my hands, he gripped my right breast hard enough to bruise. I screamed my outrage.

The mists parted and the sun shone down on the great tawny head. Golden eyes glowed and Dòmhnall shrank back. I shimmied out of his grasp but did not flee. I raced to the edge of the water.

“Stop! Stay back!” I raised my hands, palms outstretched. “Remember the curse!”

But Ægir kept coming.

“No,” I cried. “You can’t!”

“She’s afraid for you.” Dòmhnall taunted. “She knows I am a great warrior.”

“Don’t do it,” I pleaded, willing the golden eyes to rest on me. “Don’t come. He doesn’t matter.” If Ægir set foot on land, the curse would win.

Ægir pointed at me. “Mine.” A promise.

“Come take her then,” Dòmhnall