Bonded to the Berserkers

Haakon

Haakon

This is the one. I told Ulf, using the private link between our minds. In the century we’d shared the bond, I’d never felt such a rush of triumph. The beast in my breast howled at the sight of the woman backed into the corner.

“Stay away,” the woman growled, as brave as any wolf. She caught up a pan and threw it. I jumped out of the way, and it hit Ulf, who cursed.

“Watch her, Ulf,” I laughed. “She’s a fighter.”

“I mean it,” she looked around in desperation, perhaps looking for another thing to throw.

She is our mate, I said silently to Ulf, who confirmed it with a nod. He kept his head turned, hiding his burn scars. Perhaps he didn’t want to scare her any more than she was.

Not that she seemed frightened.

She was lovely, with dark hair, flushed cheeks, a bosom that jiggled enticingly. I had to pause and breathe in her scent. Sweet as a mountain blossom, with a touch of spice and smoke. I took a deep breath and caught another, disgusting smell. Cabbage?

“Calm yourself, beautiful. You’re coming with us,” I told her. “But you have nothing to fear.”

Her chest heaved up and down. She wore a little dress, not much, just a thin shift. Did the holy man make her stand there in nothing but her night clothes? Did he like to look at her?

Jealousy gripped me. Ulf felt it, too. No one should look at our mate but us.

I took a step forward.

“Leave me,” she said. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for escape. She inched away from me, her bosom straining under the fabric of her shift. Such a nice bosom, two bountiful globes with dusky n*****s pressing on the thin cloth. I could easily hold each breast in my hand, cupping their warm weight, soothing and teasing the n*****s with my thumbs right before bending down and sucking the peaks into my mouth. Our beautiful mate would writhe and cry in pleasure. She’d try to stop me and I’d pin her arms—

Haakon, Ulf said. You’re distracted.

“Your home is under attack,” I told her bosom. “You cannot stay here. You will come with us and be safe.”

“Never,” she growled, fierce as a she wolf. She was lovely, our mate. Green eyes, black hair, and a bosom to make angels weep. To make holy men break their vows.

The beast within roared to life. It would not rest until she was marked as mine.

Haakon, you must not lose control.

“Come here,” I ordered her.

Instead, she looked to the left, to the giant cauldron sitting on the fire.

“Do not—” I began, but too late. She leapt onto the great hearth and kicked away the logs supporting the giant pot, yelping as sparks singed her bare feet.

“No,” Ulf thundered, as the cauldron tipped and gallons of stinking, steaming liquid gushed over the edge, splashing onto the floor.