4
Jarl
The little nun shrank into herself. She didn’t fight other than try to tug her arm away. It took a mere fraction of my strength to hold her. She gave up and blinked at me. Her pale skin glowed in the moonlight, and her pulse fluttered in her throat.
I dipped my head down to whisper in the silken shell of her ear.
“You’re suffering. You’ve been suffering so long you know no other life. But we can end it. You refuse to, so we will. We won't stand by and watch any longer.”
“You can’t do this,” she whispered back.
“We’re Berserkers,” I taunted back. “We’ll do as we wish.”
Her eyes flashed and I straightened, smirking. The Juliet I knew would not cower before us. She’d fight back. Even frightened, she’d fight.
Jarl, Fenrir spoke into my mind, through the mental bond all Berserker
