Mastered by the Berserkers

Prologue

Prologue

The moon hung high in the sky, bathing everything in silvery light. I crouched against the outer wall of the lodge, pressing myself into the roughly hewn logs and shivering. It was early spring and there was still snow on the ground, but I wasn’t cold.

Just the opposite. A bead of sweat rolled down my forehead, tickling my skin and soaking a stray tendril of my hair. With a trembling hand, I wiped it away.

The fever inside me burned on. A cruel fire, roasting me from the inside.

How many hours had I been outside this night? How many times this winter had the fever driven me outside? The first few times, I planted my face in the snow to cool it. Now I didn’t bother.

Pleasepleaseplease, I prayed, as I had many nights before. Kyrie eleison. Lord have mercy.

But no help came. The moon glared at me in silent witness of my sins.

A crunch of gravel under a boot was my only warning before a shadow fell across me. The one who cast it was tall and broad and larger than an ordinary man—a giant hewn from rock. A Berserker.

“Juliet.” The giant shadow spoke. Behind him, to the right, another shadow glided over the frozen ground. A second warrior. Only a Berserker could be so large, yet move so silently.

“Jarl.” I let my head fall back against the wall, stifling a groan. Of course my prayers wouldn't be answered this night. “And Fenrir.”

As I named them, the warriors stepped into the light. Both were bearded and broad of shoulder, but Jarl was a bit broader, and Fenrir taller with longer hair.

“Juliet.” Jarl c****d his head. “You’re not wearing your boots.”

I tucked my bare feet under my shift. “What do you want?” I croaked. No sense hiding the fact that they were bothering me.

“You know what we want.” Jarl crouched down beside me. A strong scent, woodsmoke and pine, wound around me. I fought to keep myself from leaning into him. “You still suffer,” he observed.

I laughed, my breath puffing in the cold air. “Some say suffering is a woman’s lot.”

“How long?” Jarl asked.

I licked my cracked lips. “You know how long. You’ve watched me all these months.”

Jarl swore.

Fenrir frowned and came closer, but he remained standing. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked out over the silent forest, alert.

The clenched fist of my heart relaxed. Something about these men standing close, guarding me made me feel safer than I ever had. I didn’t like it, but my body gave me no choice.

“You’ve suffered all these months. There is no need.” Jarl reached out to brush my brow. “We’ve waited for you to come to us.”

I had to fight my own instincts and force myself to duck away from his touch. “It’s no use. I took a vow.”

Jarl clenched his outstretched hand into a fist. “Does this vow require your death? Because we see it and know as well as you—the fever weakens you. You cannot survive it. You must submit to your lust.”

I bared my teeth at him. “Never.”

“Little one, you are not a nun anymore.”

“I will always be a nun.”

“Is your god so cruel he desires you to act against your own impulses?”

I closed my eyes to shut him out and whispered, “The wages of sin is death. Blessed are they who are pure in heart, for they shall see God.”

“It’s no use,” Fenrir said in a voice so deep, it was almost a growl. My eyes flew open.

Jarl rose. For a moment I was disappointed. I squashed that down. I was glad they were leaving. Truly.

But Jarl didn’t leave. Neither did Fenrir. They glanced at each other and golden flames lit their eyes.

“Then you leave us no choice,” Jarl said.

I scrambled upward. “What do you mean?”

His arm snapped out, and shackled my wrist before I could react. “You’re coming with us.”

I tugged, but couldn’t break free from his awesome strength. It didn’t help that his thumb feathered against my pulse and every touch weakened my limbs. “What?”

“This ends now,” Fenrir said. He crowded me until I was caged between him and his warrior brother.

Jarl drew me close until my small frame brushed his. “We’re taking you this night.”