Captured by the Berserkers

Willow-3

Leif carried me easily, striding in silence through the woods. His pace picked up to a trot when we came to a field. We traveled far beyond where I’d ever roamed. Sage and I had often talked about running away but had never gone much beyond the shack we’d made our hiding place.

The last light glimmered through the trees when the warrior set me down again. I watched him through the screen of my hair.

“Water?” He offered me a little waterskin tied to his belt.

I shook my head.

“More for me.” He drained the skin, his beautiful throat working as he swallowed.

When he moved to touch me, I flung myself back with enough violence to leave furrows on the ground.

“Shh, shh,” he soothed. “I’ll untie the gag.” He held his hands up as if trying to coax a wild creature. “Do I have your word you will not scream?”

I stared at him. His words grazed my overwrought brain. I was captive and bound several miles from my home, and at this warrior’s mercy.

Leif knelt in front of me.

“You will not scream,” he told me. “If you do, there will be consequences. I might like the consequences, but I promise you will not. Besides”—his tone gentled—“even if you do cry out, there is no one around to hear you. And no one will take you from me.” For a moment, his gaze darkened. I wanted to huddle into a tight ball.

Instead, I let him take off the gag then I spat in his face. He drew back, blinking in surprise.

“You coward,” I said. “Do you like kidnapping innocent girls?”

He wiped at his speckled cheek.

“Oh, aye,” he said with a grin. He didn’t seem upset, more amused by my anger.

“Let me go,” I ground out, struggling against my bonds. I had to do something. This warrior loomed over me, three times my size, and all of it muscle. He’d promised not to hurt me, but I’d have to be a fool to trust him—wouldn’t I?

“I’ll free you,” he went on, “when I can be sure you will not run.”

I turned my head away for a moment. I wasn’t afraid, not of him. My cheeks flushed, my body heated from his closeness. Under the thin fabric of my shift, my breasts felt heavy and swollen, and I wished I could bare them to the night air.

When I met the warrior’s gaze, a jolt went through me. I closed my eyes, but too late to hide the hunger in them.

This time, when he brushed the hair from my face, I did not fight.

“What do you want with me?” Even to me my voice sounded low and husky.

His golden eyes drank me in. His thumb rubbed my lower lip. “Everything,” he murmured. “I want everything you have to give, and more.”