Mated to the Berserkers: A Menage Shifter Romance (5 page)

Frowning at the witch’s inconsiderate words, I went to stand by her. Samuel already tucked her to his front, arms around her in comfort

The witch watched us. This whole thing—interrupting our lovemaking, provoking Samuel, was a game. The wolf and man disliked being treated as a pawn.

“You knew this, damn you,” I said in a frosty tone. “You were the first to find her.”

Yseult raised her hands in defense. “Calm, Daegan, I merely read the runes. I never met the girl. I’m glad she suits.”

“She suits,” I agreed bluntly, and turned to look at Brenna. My face softened. She more than suits, I spoke to Samuel through the bond, and he agreed.

Yseult looked annoyed. She knew wolves could speak to one another, and hated it. She liked to be the one who held the secrets.

“Tell us what you know,” I ordered, without much hope that she would.

“My dear Daegan, I know nothing.” She shrugged. “If you’d let me alone with her for a few moments—”

“No,” Samuel growled.

“I might study the mark of the wolf,” the witch went on coolly as if she hadn’t been interrupted. “That is how you knew she was the one the runes spoke of, is it not? The wolf attack when she was young.”

“Dog attack,” I glared. “Her family told us it was a wild dog.”

“Dog, wolf…” Yseult shrugged.

Samuel and I exchanged glances. Was it possible our Brenna had been mauled by another werewolf? And not just any sort of wolf, a creature like us, tainted with magic--a Berserker in the grip of madness?

Yseult’s eyes gleamed. “Yes, you begin to see now. Did you ever ask yourself how she survived such a brutal attack? Did you ever wonder why?”

Samuel and I blinked, and looked to Brenna, who seemed just as confused as we were.

“Are you saying the reason she was attacked…and the reason she survived…there’s a connection?”

Yseult’s smile broadened.

“You speak in circles, witch. Either tell us, or leave.”

“I will tell you, when I know for sure. But I want a favor in return.”

“Favor?”

“The usual.”

Samuel waved a hand. “The pack will fulfill the terms. Daegan and I will no longer take part.”

“So faithful to this woman already? I never thought I’d live to see the day a woman tied you to her.”

Samuel ignored the witch’s jibe.  “The pack will see to your needs.”

“They are not also faithful to your Brenna? Or do you not share her?”

“Nay,” I growled. “We will never share her.”

“Pity,” Yseult sniffed. “When the time comes to collect my favor, I should love to have another to help me…entertain the pack. Your wolves are so voracious…especially the scarred blond—what is his name?”

“Siebold,” Samuel and I answered together. The large Viking had a sadistic streak that matched Yseult’s blood craving. Of course she would favor him.

“Siebold, yes,” Yseult purred. “I should love more time with him. Perhaps I could take him with me…”

“No,” I said. Knowing the witch, she’d probably ask Siebold directly, and he might take her up on the challenge, so I added, “We would not allow him to go.”

“Pity.” Yseult didn’t look too put out. “I shall have to wait until solstice, then.” She smiled at me, probably recalling the last solstice, when Samuel and I took her together, while the pack watched.

Sure enough, an image appeared  in my mind unbidden-the witch’s body naked and writhing under me. The memory felt cold compared with the time I’d just spent with Brenna, even though it was the same act. There was no love between Yseult and I.

I turned away, wondering at the warm feelings I had for the dark-haired woman on the dais. Was it love?

“Our woman is hungry,” Samuel said to Yseult. “You may take your leave.”

“As you wish,” Yseult said in a sour tone. We hadn’t insulted her outright, but only just. The witch deserved it, even if it wasn’t wise to anger a powerful one.

“One last thing,” she said, and I tensed for her parting shot. “You’ve claimed this woman as your beloved, your true mate?”

I jolted at the use of “beloved”…the private name I had for Brenna. I wondered if it was possible the witch had plucked it from my thoughts.

“She is ours.”

“Is she, truly? I only ask because I did not see a claiming mark.”

Samuel placed his hand on Brenna’s shoulder, where a werewolf would bite his mate during a breeding frenzy. “Human flesh is frail. She is ours, even if we do not mark her.”

“Hmmm. How can you be sure, then, that she is your true mate?” Yseult held up three fingers. “Mating heat, mating bond, mating bite. Those are the signs of a werewolf’s true mate.”

“What would you know of it?” Samuel demanded. Brenna couldn’t bond with us, and couldn’t survive a mating bite. She wasn’t a werewolf, wasn’t the proper candidate for a Berserker mate. But up until now, no woman had been. Yseult seemed to be testing our loyalty to our beloved, demanding proof of our love. Samuel looked frustrated. “Why do you care so much, unless you are jealous?”

Yseult turned pale, but retorted in a biting tone, “I only wish to serve, Alpha. You approached me to find the one who would bring your peace. If she is not the one--”

“She is the one.” Samuel wrapped his arms around Brenna, his giant hand palming her throat and covering the silver torc she wore for us.    

“Then claim her.”

Samuel released Brenna and set her carefully aside. I sensed my Alpha was close to losing his temper again, and this time, no calming touch of our woman would stop him.

“Yseult, perhaps it is time for ye to leave--”

Yseult followed me, but whirled at the last second. “If you do not form a mating bond, there are other wolves who would love to take her.” 

“Out!” Roared Samuel, his back already hunched with a half change…not into wolf but into a beast halfway between animal and man.

Yseult’s face paled a little, and she stepped back, turning it into a mocking curtsy at the last.

“Until solstice.”

*

Ears still ringing with Samuel’s anger, I let Yseult go ahead of me, and followed her away from our sleeping chamber.  She strode through the stone hall with her chin in the air, revealing no sign that she had been cast out.

“Yseult,” I called and she paused, keeping her stiff back to me. “Tell me, is it possible for a human to mate with a wolf?”

“A human? Pure? With all the magic stripped from them by their White Christ? No.” Her tone mocked.

“So Brenna cannot be our true mate.” Even as I stated it, the wolf inside me disagreed.
She is ours,
the wolf insisted.
Our true mate.

I forced myself to meet Yseult’s gaze. The witch seemed to sense the wolf’s disagreement, and my despair. The expression on her face was kin to pity.

“I will tell you, Daegan. I cast the runes before I came here.”

“And?”

“You and Samuel must find your true mate before the next red moon or the beast will consume you.”

I swallowed. I didn’t know what that meant, and did not ask. It was possible Yseult herself didn’t understand. If she did, she’d tell us when she was ready, not a moment before.

“I thought that Brenna would stop the madness.”

“The runes fell as they would, Daegan.” Yseult said in a sharp tone.

I searched her face. We’d been lovers once. Surely I could find some hint in her face as to what she felt.

Nothing.

I tried to reason with her. “You can see as well as I do…she soothes the beast.”

“I am sorry,” she said. “But as I tried to tell Samuel, there are three requirements.”

I nodded. Mating heat, mating bond, mating bite. 

“If you cannot accomplish those three things,” she shrugged. “She is not your true mate.”

“But the wolf claims her as mate.”

“What of the beast? The third, darkest part of you—does the beast accept her?”

I shook my head.

How does a man feel when he suffers a mortal wound, and survives only to be told he will be hung on the morrow? I swallowed.

“Then what of Brenna?”

“Her presence is helpful, I suppose. But unless the beast sees her as a true mate…” Yseult shrugged. “You ask me what will become of her? What happens when the beast takes control? To anyone around you, be they villagers, loved ones, or even armies.”

She would not have to look into my thoughts to see memories of the killing fields. They were written across my face, in the scars of my body, and regret in my gaze. “They die.”

She nodded.

Every muscle in my body tightened.

If Brenna was not our true mate, when the beast finally did consume us, she would not survive.

An image flashed through my mind: a woman torn to pieces. Nothing left but a stain on the ground.

I tasted blood in my mouth, and almost vomited.

My insides twisted as I realized what Yseult was saying: if we loved Brenna we would send her away.

“How long do we have?” I rasped.

“As long as it takes for you to succumb to the madness. You may have a moon. You may have a day. Or perhaps it will take a century.”

“She will not live for a century. Humans do not live that long.”

“Then you best find your true mate soon.”

“Is that why you came today? To warn us?”

“Yes. Believe it or not, I am a friend.”

I didn’t believe it. She was an ally, never a friend. If she revealed information now, it was because it suited her purposes.

Still, I thanked her gruffly.

She returned with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes. Her hips swayed as she walked away, a sight meant to entice. It made me feel sick.

Ye heard?

Aye,
Samuel spoke through the bond.

We have to tell Brenna. She should know.

Silence.

Yseult paused at the mouth of the cave, and I strode to catch up with her, unwilling to let her linger among the pack.

“I’ll see you to the path.”

She nodded politely. If she sensed my distress, she said nothing.

Samuel?

We’ll tell her.

The nausea in my stomach spread through my body. The wolf wanted to race after the witch, jaws snapping, and drive her from the mountain for bearing this news. It did not understand the future, or the choice before us.

It understood now and pain. And it wanted to retaliate.

For a moment my vision blurred with the desire to kill something. I waited until it cleared, and ambled out to the bonfire. Yseult strutted past the watching wolves, a few in man form.

“Hello, Siebold,” she purred as she passed the warrior. The big blond sat bare-chested on a rock near the fire, sharpening his sword. He turned to watch her go.

“Siebold,” I called, and after a long look at the disappearing woman, he gave me his attention. “Ye are on watch until dusk.”

Anger crossed the man’s face. He belonged to the group of warriors turned with Samuel in Northvegr to fight for a king called Harald Fairhair, long ago, before even I was born. I was only a pup when they came a-Viking from the cold lands, sailing here on dragon headed ships. For a seasoned warrior like Siebold, submitting to someone younger and less experienced must rankle the big warrior. I was more dominant, if only because of my link with Samuel. The Alpha trusted me.

Neither of us trusted Siebold.

“What did the witch want?”

“Ye,” I couldn’t resist teasing. “Trussed on a frame for her to fuck, then eat. We told her no.”

Siebold snorted.

“You jest, Beta,” he said in the sour tone I’d heard Yseult use. Maybe I could convince Samuel to hand the belligerent wolf over to the witch for her dark purposes.

“Don’t pout, Viking,” I called him by his nickname. “She’ll be back midsummer for her pound of flesh, and her pounding.” I winked at him. “Now trot up to yer post. I’ll send relief at sundown.”

Provoked, he snarled, human lips peeling back from teeth slightly sharper than a regular man’s. Dropping the teasing act, I answered in kind. Teeth bared, I held his eyes, letting the wolf show a little until he dropped his gaze in respect for my dominance. Gripping his weapon, he rose and stalked up the mountain path to an overlook we used to keep watch.

Crouching by the fire, I used a dagger to poke at the roasting meat, alternately eating and setting aside slices for Brenna’s meal.

I was about to leave when a shout stopped me.

“Beta,” Wulfgar prowled across the clearing towards me, worry crossing his blunt expression. “A word. We had a visitor.”

“Hunters?” We were half a day’s run from the nearest village, but travelers sometimes strayed onto what we considered our lands.

“No. One of us.”

Anger flooded through me. “Werewolf?” I snarled. There was another pack close by, the Red Moon pack. We’d fought them years ago, establishing our right to the mountain. Perhaps it was time to revisit them, remind them of our claim.