Mastered by the Berserkers (Berserker Brides #8) - Lee Savino Page 0,31

let us slow until we were deep in a grove of pine. “Where are the draugr?” I asked.

“Jarl drew them off.”

Jarl? I startled. As soon as his name bloomed in my mind, he answered.

I’m here. He answered in the voice of the beast, and thrust an image into my mind. I Saw his monstrous arms and paws. He stood in a clearing, leaning on a double-headed axe. At his feet were piles of bones. The Grey Men, destroyed.

There will be more. I scent another great force, marching to surround the mountain. But I have cleared your route.

“Come, Juliet.” Fenrir shrugged off his pack. He crouched and bid me climb on his back. “Put your arms around my neck. We have leagues to go, and we must be back by dusk.”

I hung on, wrapping my legs around his waist. He hitched me closer and took off. The forest blurred.

We journeyed this way, at Berserker speed, for several hours. Fenrir never paused and never seemed to tire.

“Will you tell me where we are going?” I asked when he let me down to drink at a stream and stretch my cramped legs.

“No. It will ruin the surprise.” He lifted me again.

“At least tell me how much longer,” I grumbled.

“Tell me a story,” he said as he set off.

“A story? About what?” I closed my eyes to the trees passing with dizzying speed.

“Anything. You.”

I bit my lip. I did not have any stories I wished to tell about me. But I had often told stories to the orphans. “Once there was a man named Jonah, who was a prophet. But he ran from God, and tried to escape by sailing across the sea…”

The sun was high in the sky when we came to a meadow full of flowers and he let me down for good. My voice was hoarse from talking. I’d told the story of Jonah and the whale, Noah and the ark, Balaam and the ass, and Gideon and his army. Fenrir enjoyed the stories with fighting best.

I arched my back and swung my arms, loosening my tight muscles. Fenrir had set me in a patch of bluebells. I bent to pick one, and when I straightened, a large, dark form stepped out of the shadows.

It was Jarl. The sunlight slid off his bare shoulders as he strode to me. He wore a pair of ragged breeches and held a shield and double-headed axe. But he was fully a man. I heaved a sigh as he set down his weapon and took up my hand.

“I dreamed you were a monster.”

“I am a monster.” He kissed my fingers. They were cold and he nuzzled them, warming them with his breath. “But more than that, I am yours.”

“You missed the stories,” I said, drawing my hand back.

“I did not. Fenrir shared them with me. Gideon’s was the best.” Jarl winked at me and stepped back as Fenrir approached.

“Well fought,” Fenrir greeted his brother and tossed Jarl a pair of boots and a leather jerkin. Jarl dressed quickly. The jerkin was new, as were the boots, but the well-dressed man who wore them was barely more civilized than the half-naked warrior who’d strode from the woods. Especially when he strapped the shield and axe to his back.

“Do you enjoy fighting?” I asked.

“Yes.” Jarl took my hand again.

“Is that why you became a Berserker?”

“Yes,” he said more soberly. “But that was not the same.”

I cocked my head to the side. “How do you mean?”

“Now we have someone worth fighting for.” He tugged me into him and gripped the base of my braid. He kissed me, his beard scraping my face. He plunged his tongue into my mouth, plundering. I was gasping when he let me come up for air.

Fenrir cleared his throat loudly. “Not here, brother. Not yet.”

I furrowed my brow, wondering what he meant. Jarl laughed and released me. “A little further, Juliet.”

Fenrir also wore the jerkin and boots and breeches he’d worn before, but now they were brushed clean of mud. He’d tied his long hair back. With a grin, he smoothed his thumb over the chafed patches around my mouth. He picked up the bluebells that had fallen out of my hand and tucked a spray behind my ear.

“What is going on?” I asked. Both warriors wore grins, but pressed their lips together at my question. They were hiding something.

“You’ll see,” Fenrir beckoned me to follow. He took my right hand and Jarl took the other.

“It’s a surprise.”

“Will I like this surprise?”

“Yes. At