Willow
“Berserker?” I squeaked. “Is that what you are?”
“Yes.” Leif’s grin was white and pointy.
I tugged my hand away from him. “So I am to be your bride.”
He inclined his head, still smug. I wanted to slap his face.
“And we live where? Here?” I cast a hand towards the ruins. The place seemed fitting enough. Isolated, wild. “Or in a forest den?”
Leif’s face tightened. “No. We’re taking you to the mountain, our home. We will live near the rest of the pack, in a lodge we’ll build for you.” His fingers caught a strand of my hair and tucked it behind my ear. His voice softened a touch. “You belong to us, Willow, and above all, we care for our mate.”
I took a deep breath. “All right.” How could I argue? Each passing moment they told me something more outrageous than the last.
I’d spent
