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

in me. It had come on me before, but it was worse tonight than it’d ever been.

Sage and Willow called it the fever. They and many of our sisters had felt it. From what they told me, the heat called to the Berserkers. It marked the women who could break their curse.

And now it had come upon me.

“The heat comes when the spaewife is ready to mate.” Fenrir had told me. I put a hand to my belly and gnawed my lip.

Maybe I was a spaewife. Or maybe I was just wicked, and destined to burn. This sickness was the heat of hellfire, warning me to renounce all sin.

A half-naked warrior strolled past me and Meadow gasped. On her corner of the blanket, Fern ducked her head to her knees, though she peeked out from time to time.

Rosalind sat on a boulder some feet away from us. She sat straight and stiff, her honey gold hair streaming out behind her like a flag. Half the warriors blatantly stared at her. A few even tried to catch her attention. But she stared out at nothing, proud as a princess, refusing to acknowledge her captors.

“Look,” Meadow nudged me. “The Alphas are here.”

And so they were, taking their place on a crop of boulders nearer to the fire. Their women came with them, Brenna of the Berserkers, dark-haired and lovely in a white fur robe that trailed upon the grass. Sabine of the Lowland pack, tall and flanked by two warriors—one of whom had more tattoos than Jarl. Muriel and her hulking, scar-faced mate. A fourth slender, bright-haired woman who held a staff taller than her head. When she strode past us amid a tight pack of three warriors, I noticed the wood staff was carved with runes and topped with an eagle feather.

The Alphas settled and the feasting began. As the warriors carved up the game, I found myself looking for a certain two Berserkers. But Jarl and Fenrir weren’t among the warriors.

By the time the moon rose, we’d eaten our fill of the meat and sprawled out, half on the blanket, half on the grass. The younger ones dozed. I’d taken off my cloak to make a pillow for Aspen, Ivy, and Clover.

Down by the fire, the Alphas still ate and drank. A few Berserkers rolled up huge casks of mead. When the first opened, the honey liquid spilled to the ground and the warriors sent up a cheer.

That’s when I saw him, standing among his Berserker pack. Fenrir stood near the casks, sipping from a cup. A minute later Jarl joined him.

I knew I shouldn’t stare, but I couldn’t help it. They bent toward one another, then Fenrir’s head snapped up as if he suddenly sensed something. Before I could look away, he turned and looked straight at me.

I squirmed in my seat. Jarl looked up at me, too. His usual smirk spread across his face and he raised his horn of mead in a mock toast to me.

I looked away. I didn’t know why I’d sought them out in the first place. They didn’t matter to me. I needed to remember that.

Night had fallen. The bonfire had grown bigger, fed by whole trees. A single Berserker could fell a tree in seconds and carry it on their own. It seemed to be a competition among them, second only to competing to see who could drink a whole cask of mead.

I sighed and hugged my knees to my chest. Soon our warrior guard would come and escort us back to our beds. But for now, we would sit and watch the wild revelry. It was a welcome change from the stuffy lodge.

Then the drums began. First, a subtle throbbing, echoing over the hill. I did not know whence it came. The sound grew into a low pulse that seemed to shake the very ground from deep inside. The heartbeat of the earth.

A group of people wearing cloaks were coming up the hill toward our gathering. They pushed back their hoods as they entered the circle of the bonfire’s light. Most were women, but not any I recognized. Some were old and bent, others had smooth, ageless faces. One tall woman carried a huge snowy owl on her outstretched arm.

They were witches, I realized. The Alphas rose as one to greet them.

The rhythm of the drums intensified.

The newcomers settled into their own circle, some ways from the Alphas. The Berserkers were gathering in a larger circle around the witches and the