Mastered by the Berserkers (Berserker Brides #8) - Lee Savino Page 0,9

whole bonfire. The firelight danced and licked over blonde heads and gleaming torcs, over axe heads and shields. The warrior’s dark tattoos seemed to come alive, the symbols writhing over the warriors’ skin.

A ripple went through the gathered warriors. Sabine walked from the Alphas’ seat toward the witches, accompanied by her two mates. When she reached the witches’ circle, she let her cloak fall away. She’d been painted with woad, her face and bare arms covered in blue symbols. She wore a white shift and nothing else. Her feet were bare.

The drums beat faster. The witch with the owl greeted Sabine, and raised her voice to the assembly. I couldn’t hear anything over the boom of the drums. Or maybe I didn’t want to hear.

I licked my lips. Behind me, the younger girls had fallen asleep, lulled by the pagan rhythms. Rosalind was standing now, her face a pale mask bathed in moonlight. Beside me, Fern curled tighter into a ball, rocking slightly.

In the circle of witches, Sabine began to dance. She twisted and turned, her bare feet striking the earth, her body dipping and flowing like a willow’s branches. At times, she raised her face and arms to the moon and the drums would pause, only to continue faster.

The rhythms built and built, and as one, the Berserkers raised their weapons to the sky. The witches sent up a chant and the Berserkers echoed it. They beat their axes and swords against their shields, adding to the rhythm of the drums.

A warrior entered the circle with Sabine. Ragnvald, one of the Alphas and one of her mates. He moved to her side. In a flash, he reached out and caught her, and drew her close with a fist in her bright hair. She stilled, rising on tiptoe to face him, her hands hanging by her sides, palms out turned.

The warrior Ragnvald held Sabine fast. His face moved over hers, hovering as he scented along her hairline. Even from my distance, I could see her eyes close. She quivered in his grip.

Slowly Ragnvald dipped his head and claimed her mouth. All the Berserker warriors broke into a war cry, shaking their weapons.

I jerked at the clamor and looked around. Hazel sat watching the ritual beside a giant golden-haired warrior. A few feet away, higher on the hill, Willow sat between two warriors, one dark, one redhead. As I watched, the redhead cupped her face and kissed her.

I gasped, a flush moving over me. A second went by, and another, but the kiss between Willow and her mate did not end. Beyond them, Laurel lay between her mates. Their large hands stroked back her hair and along the curve of her bosom.

I rose to my feet, a wave of heat pulsing over me. Hazel was now in her warrior’s lap, her small dress-clad frame dwarfed by his. Her warrior giant played with the torc around her neck, tugging it to draw her closer and lying back so she could straddle him.

I whirled to face the woods, my face burning. It was suddenly too hot. My nails scraped my chest as if I could peel out of my skin. My heartbeat boomed loud as the drums.

“Juliet?” It was Fern, concern in her voice. I shook my head at her and tried to speak, but the drums filled my ears.

The drums were driving me mad. I was nowhere near the bonfire, but my skin burned like I was in the middle of its molten mouth. Sweat dripped into my eyes and my eyes blurred.

I had to escape. There must be somewhere, anywhere I could hide.

I turned and raced toward the woods. The ground seemed to roll under my feet as I reached the treeline. I wore new boots; boots I’d found by the lodge three nights ago. They were welcome then, but now seemed too heavy on my feet.

I stumbled.

“Juliet.” Fenrir stepped out from behind a tree and caught me as I fell. I was in his arms, surrounded by his scent. His long hair swept over me. I pushed at the fine tangle until our faces were clear.

And then his mouth was on mine. His dark beard scratched my face. His hands cupped my jaw, turning my head this way and that as his tongue plundered. My arms went around his broad shoulders, gripping handfuls of his silky hair. Our bodies melded to each other. My aching breasts brushed his smooth chest.

His mouth broke from mine. We were both gasping. He propped