Mastered by the Berserkers (Berserker Brides #8) - Lee Savino Page 0,3

warrior would leave and a few minutes later, a wolf would stroll from the forest. I shivered at what that might mean.

“But why do they want us?” Meadow asked finally.

“I don’t know.” But deep down, I did. But it wasn’t something a nun, especially one young as me, should think about.

I rolled away from Meadow and fell asleep, and when dawn came, I woke to a new pair of boots and a thick cloak sitting by my head. Both nicer items of clothing than I’d ever owned.

I put them on and they fit perfectly. When I looked up, Jarl was watching me from across the fire.

But I turned away. And neither he nor Fenrir said anything to me, though I knew they were responsible for the gifts. For the rest of the trip I refused to speak or even look at them. I would not thank them, or think of them, or acknowledge what their gifts might mean.

2

Juliet

“I heard the warriors talking. Laurel is with child.” Meadow slouched next to my bed, chewing on her lip.

“Good for her.” I swung down, wincing at the cold. Autumn came early in the mountains. I grabbed my cloak—the one Jarl and Fenrir had given me—and swung it around my shoulders. It was dark blue and lined with rabbit fur. Heavy and warm enough for me to wear through the winter.

It had been several moons since the Berserkers took us from our home. The orphans and I lived in a lodge nestled high in the peaks. We were surrounded by forest and meadow.

“I wish to visit her. Perhaps I could stay with her while she carries the babe,” Meadow said, twisting a lock of her hair.

“Perhaps. I can ask our guards.” There were always several stationed nearby our lodge. To keep others out, as much as to keep us in.

“They don’t want us roaming far anymore,” Rosalind said from her perch by the hearth. On the floor, her sister Aspen played with the girls her age—Violet, Briar, Juniper, and Clover. “They say it’s too dangerous.” She sniffed. “If these warriors are so strong, why don’t they kill the Corpse King once and for all.”

In the opposite corner, Fern gasped. I looked to her questioningly, but she’d shrunk into a ball, her red hair curtaining her face.

“We shouldn’t speak of him,” Meadow cautioned in a whisper.

“Who? The Corpse King?” Rosalind tossed her long blonde hair. “I’m not afraid.”

Meadow stiffened.

“It’s not a sin to be afraid,” I said gently. I put my hand on Meadow’s shoulder and she softened.

“Is that why you cower outside during the full moon?” Rosalind muttered under her breath.

It was my turn to stiffen. I opened my mouth to deny it, but my lips were frozen.

“Rosalind,” Fern murmured, and the blonde girl shut her eyes. “I’m sorry. Juliet, I didn’t mean it.”

But what was done was done. What was said was said. My secret was out. Maybe it had never been a secret.

I rose, smoothing my dress down as regally as I could. Both Rosalind and Fern watched me, one wary, one saddened. Both had pity for me.

“I am going to fetch water,” I told her. “Please watch the young ones. If they wish to go outside, do not let them stray.”

“Do you need help?” Meadow bounced to her feet and smoothed back her hair. She always wanted to leave the safety of the lodge. Not to do chores or keep me company, but to catch the eye of a warrior. I often caught her preening near the outpost of our guard. She was still too timid to flirt outright, but it was only a matter of time.

I bit back my retort. “No, I wish to be alone.”

Her face fell and I gentled my tone with a smile. “When I return, we will all go pick wildflowers. See that the little ones are dressed and put on their shoes.”

I swept past Rosalind.

“I’m sorry,” she said again as I passed her. I gripped her shoulder a moment, meaning to comfort, but unlike Meadow she didn’t soften. That was just Rosalind. There was always something brittle in her. Like her beautiful face was made of clay—lovely, but one wrong move and she would shatter.

I didn’t begrudge her moods. I felt the same as she did—worry, fear, distrust of our captors. Relief that we were warm and well fed. And, deeper still, an unease, an expectancy telling me it was only a matter of time before the Berserkers came for me again.

When I left the