Surrendered to the Berserkers by Lee Savino

Chapter 9

Rosalind

Inside the castle,braziers lit the way. There must have been some herb or mineral thrown onto the fire, because the flames burned blue, and a pungent smoke hung in the air. The eerie light reflected off the polished stone. Everything was obsidian—the floor, the walls, the ceiling, the huge columns that lined the great hall.

“It looks carved from stone.”

“It was.” The young man’s voice echoed.

I kept my voice hushed, as if we were in church. “It is beautiful. How did this place come to be?”

“The mage is powerful. His magic has only grown.”

Gemstones glittered in the columns we passed. I wanted to stop but the young man’s steps didn’t pause, so I kept pace with him. We were still holding hands.

“He seeks to free the world. Rule it. Create peace.”

“At what cost peace?” I asked.

The young man quickened his steps. We turned a corner and entered a smaller hall. The light from the braziers created a tunnel of glowing blue. As we walked, my skirts disturbed the blue smoke that had settled in the corners. It curled before us, like a pet dogging our steps. No matter which way I turned, I couldn’t see my shadow. It was as if it was swallowed up in the strange glow.

The scent of incense hung thick upon the air. The scent of the Corpse King’s magic. Alarm buzzed in me but it fizzled out, leaving the heady calm.

The young man stopped and stood, watching me. His perfect face held only patience.

I knew then this wasn't an ordinary man, or an assistant.

I didn’t want to look him in the eye, but something about his face drew me to him. “You wanted me to come here.”

“I did.” A smile played on his perfect lips. “I invited you to come sooner.”

“I know.”

“I thought you did not want to come.”

“I was a captive of the Berserkers and did not know how to escape.”

He tilted his head.

After a moment, he nodded.

“This way,” he said, and led me through a door into a round tower and up a spiraling staircase.

“This is a beautiful castle. It took much power to build it,” I said. Was I flattering him on purpose or simply telling the truth? There was a soft woolen layer of magic blanketing my mind.

“Yes,” he said, and spared me a dazzling smile.

I ducked my head, my cheeks curving. It felt strange to smile. It was not like me. But for some reason, I wanted this young man to keep smiling at me.

It was an alien feeling. Deep down, under the layers of magic sedating me, the real Rosalind was screaming.

On Berserker Mountain, I never let anyone get close. I remained aloof. I used my words like blades and kept anyone from getting close to me. Only my sister clung to me, and that was because she knew I would do anything to protect her—even drive everyone else away.

The only ones who ever got close enough to peel back my layers of armor were Ragnar and Loki.

And now this mage, but something was not right about it. Or was it was I meant to come here all along?

“I thought if you would not come, I would invite another,” the young man said.

I’d dreamt that too. If I refused the Corpse King, he would target another. My sister. I could not allow that. I had to save her.

And I had to force the Corpse King from my mind, and use the dagger.

One way or another, it all would end.

We climbed the stairs and at last entered a room with open windows. I knew if we looked out, we’d see some of the sights from my dream.

I stopped in the middle of the obsidian floor, unwilling to approach the unbarred windows.

“It will not be long until you rule,” I said.

“No, Rosalind.” His voice echoed, even here.

I put my back to the windows. “Let us speak plainly,” I said. “You are the mage.”

The young man bowed his head.

“You are younger than I expected.”

“Magic preserves.” He rubbed two long fingers together. Blue light sparked between them.

“But you need more.”

“I always want more.” Had his eyes always been blue? Or did they simply reflect the magic fire? “I need more power to protect my family. You understand that, don’t you?”

I closed my eyes. “Yes. I understand.”

“Do you?” His voice wrapped me in velvety folds. “I am glad you’ve come here. I have so much to give you, Rosalind. Rest. Safety. And so much more. But you must give me a boon.” His voice whispered in my mind. What will you give me?

I hesitated only a moment. Ragnar’s face flashed before me. Then Loki’s.

I reached into my bodice and drew out the dagger in its sheath. So small. A lady’s weapon.

The moonstone flared bright.

“How lovely.” The Corpse King reached out a hand. Long, elegant fingers. Skin so pale, never touched by the sun.

I laid the dagger in his palm.

“Thank you, Rosalind.” He closed his long fingers around it, his grasp swallowing the light. “Welcome to your new home.”

* * *

Loki

“I can't believeshe ran from me.” I ducked under a dead tree limb, grimacing as my sleeve caught on some thorns.

The wolf at my side barked.

“Oh, I can believe that she ran from you,” I said to Wolf Ragnar. “That was her plan all along. But the witches told her to stay with me.”

I waved a hand at the briars blocking our path. They were so brittle and dry, one puff of magical air from my palm, and they disintegrated.

“Would that I had all of my powers,” I muttered. The wolf pushed past me his thick coat impervious to the thorns. I followed him. Ahead stretched what looked like a beautiful forest. But as soon as we grew close, the beauty proved an illusion. The lush trees turned into a dusty wilderness. A stream ran alongside us, yellow and brackish.

“It's not entirely her fault,” I mused aloud. “She has been abused and neglected most of her life. God knows what happened to her at that orphanage.” Black thorns snagged my breeches and I gritted my teeth, ripping my leg away. “Anyway,” I huffed as I caught up with the wolf. “That is why she is prickly.”

The wolf snorted.

“Arrogant,” I continued. “Slow to trust. Difficult to know.”

The wolf put on a burst of speed. I strode to catch up with him.

“The angry ones are filled with hidden pain,” I called. “The ones who wear the thickest armor, hurt the most. It’s exhausting, though. You never feel safe. You can never let your guard down for anyone…”

The wolf stopped in his tracks and turned his head to regard me with glowing yellow eyes.

“I’m not talking about myself.” I laid a hand on my chest. “I'm talking about Rosalind.”

The wolf lowered his head, chuffed once.

“We need to be patient with her, that’s all I’m saying.” This time, I pushed past the wolf. A few more strides, and the mist ahead parted. An obsidian monolith rose before us.

“There you are.” I pointed to it. “There’s the Corpse King’s fortress. That is where we'll find her.”

The huge wolf knocked me aside.

“Wait,” I snapped. He ignored me, bounding straight towards the open gates. “Ragnar, wait! I know the gates are open but it might be a trap—”

Blue light shot from the tower.

“No!” I threw up my hand, calling on what little power I had. I could not counter the mage’s magic, so I used it to shove the wolf out of the way. He sprawled on his side for a second, then sprang onto four paws. He rushed at me, jaws open, teeth long as knives and gleaming and coming closer—

“Odinn’s beard!” I tried to dodge. The wolf hit me with his shoulder, and I flew through the air. Magic crackled, exploding the dirt where I’d just been. I hit the ground, and rolled behind a boulder.

The wolf scrambled behind the rock outcropping with me.

“What was that?” I sputtered. I tried to move my shoulder and lost my breath at the searing pain. With a loud crack, my shoulder popped back into place. “You fool,” I ranted. “Running ahead, no plan.”

The wolf nudged me.

“Don’t tell me to shut up. You shut up.” I cradled my aching arm and let my head sag against the rock. “You saved my life. Thank you.”

You saved mine.

I heard the voice clearly in my head. I turned my head, and met glowing golden eyes.

And then I felt it: a magical surge that washed through me, fizzing through every limb. It opened a window to my mind, laying all my thoughts bare.

The wild beast that was Ragnar stared at me, his golden eyes round and wild.

He felt it too.

What had the witches told me about Berserker magic? It sought to form pack bonds—and further, brother bonds between the warriors so they might survive.

A life for a life. Sacrifice for sacrifice. Such acts of selflessness meant so little when I was a god. But that was all it took to form a brother bond.

Thor’s balls.Ragnar's voice spoke straight into my mind.

Thor's balls indeed.

* * *

Rosalind

“Rosalind.”A ghostly voice calling my name. “Rosalind.”

“Loki?”

I was back in the forest, in a glade swathed with mist. I whirled right and left, but didn’t see Loki. His mocking voice wrapped around me. “What are you doing, little runaway? Why are you here? Have you given in so easily?”

“No. I am not giving in.” I clenched my hands to fists.

Loki emerged from the mist, clad in black like always. Both his eyes were dark. “Do you not remember?”

He touched his fingers to my head, and I saw myself standing before the Corpse King. Only he did not look like a young man, but a horrible half skeleton, wrapped in grave clothes. Wait for me, my bride, the mage had said. He’d touched his bony fingers to my forehead, and I’d fallen into a trance.

“This is a dream,” I told Loki, and shivered.

“Yes. The mage’s power cannot reach us here.” He shrugged off his black cloak and wrapped me in it. I ran a hand over the soft folds, savoring the warmth from his body, even if it was all in my head. “You cannot hide here forever, Rosalind. You must face him.”

“No,” I cried out as I remembered fully, and covered my face with my hands. “It’s too late. I gave him the dagger. He has the moonstone.” I clenched my teeth, hating to speak of the horror. “I gave it to him willingly.”

“Poor Rosalind. He entranced you. But all is not lost. I am here.” Loki’s fingers tugged mine away. He stroked my face. “There have been some… complications. But I came as soon as I could.”

“You’ve come to save me then.” My voice contained my old sarcasm.

“Don’t look so shocked,” he whispered back with a sharp-edged smile. “This time, I will be a hero.”

“How?” Our faces were so close, our breath mingled.

In answer, he slanted his head and brushed his lips against mine. He was so warm, and I was so cold. Cold as if I’d been turned to stone. A mere touch of Loki’s lips sent life-giving heat through me. I sighed as if waking from a long sleep.

“Yes,” he murmured. “Let me remind you who you are.”

His kiss was slow. It set my blood simmering. My heart beat once more. I raised my hand, and cupped his fine cheek. I could feel again.

“What did the Corpse King tell you, Rosalind?” Loki pulled away to stroke my hair back. “What did he promise you?”

“He said I would be his bride.”

“Did he now?”

“He said I belong to him.”

“We can’t have that.” He cupped my face. His fingers were long and elegant, but warm. “I will lay my own claim on you.” His mouth slanted across mine, his stubble scraping my face as he drank deeply, stroking his tongue into my mouth until I felt his magic touch between my sex.

“A kiss,” he hummed, “my most favorite weapon.” He kept sipping sweetness from my lips, as if I were the finest mead.

I pressed myself to him, needing him as he needed me. His taste was ambrosia, rich and heavy. His sharp wintergreen scent surrounded me, cleansing my senses. “You broke the spell.”

A corner of his mouth turned down. “It will not last. When you awaken, you will still be in his thrall.”

I laid a hand on his chest, seeking his heartbeat with my palm. “You did your best. Loki, I…” I sought the words but they seemed so small considering the enormity of what I felt. “I am glad you’re here,” I said awkwardly. “Even if it is only a dream.”

He chuckled and tucked me close, wrapping his cloak about both of us. “Look at the two of us. Carefully guarding our hearts so nothing will break them. Cutting them off from light and air, not caring if they wither, because we think it is safe. It doesn’t work, Rosalind.” He nuzzled my head. “In the end, it makes us brittle. And we will shatter.”

My lips had frozen again. “I am already broken.”

He pressed a kiss to my head. “We are all broken. There is no shame in it. Between the three of us, we make one whole.”

“Three of us?”

“Mmm.” He sounded resigned.

Rosalind, someone in the distance bellowed. The sound twisted into a wolf’s howl. Something was lurking in the forest. Half man, half beast, all monster.

“Don’t you know never to feed wild animals?” Loki mused. “You gave that feral oaf a piece of your heart. Now we can’t get rid of him.”

“I must go to him.” I tried to pull away, but Loki tugged me back.

“He’s been insufferable since you ran off. I can’t promise he won’t make you regret it.”

Another painful bellow. The ache in the sound tore my heart.

“Let me go to him. Loki, please.”

“He doesn’t want to see you, I’m afraid. Not in his current form.”

Beyond the mist came a broken, snuffling sound. The monster’s breathing.

“Ragnar,” I called, and the heavy breathing came closer.

I pushed away from Loki, heading towards the sound. I stopped just short of the swirling mist. “Come closer,” I called.

Loki stepped to my side. “As I said, he doesn’t want to see you.”

A snarl came from the shadows.

“He says he’s a monster,” Loki translated.

“I want you, Ragnar. If you are a monster, then that is how I want you.” The wind picked up and I raised my voice. “You are not allowed to leave me wanting!”

“You heard the lady,” Loki called. To me, he whispered, “It’s working, go on.”

“Ragnar,” I called. “The Corpse King put his mark on me. But you replaced it. I’m in his castle; he says I am to be his bride.”

The roar came with a gust of wind that blew my hair back.

“You want to challenge him?” I shouted back. “Come and prove I belong to you.”

The mist crept forward. A dark shape moved in the shadows, beyond my sight.

I waved a hand in the thick fog. “This isn’t real. This is only a dream.”

“Yes, little runaway,” Loki murmured at my back, pulling his cloak away, “but it seems you need a reminder of what is real.”

A cloth dropped over my eyes. I raised a hand to tug the blindfold away, but Loki tutted and gathered my hands behind me. It was quick and easy work for him to bind them behind my back.

He paused for a moment. “Just go with it,” he whispered into my ear. “He needs this.”

Ragnar’s howl rippled through the night as Loki wrenched me around.

“He’ll come for you,” Loki said. He marched me forward with his hand clamped on the back of my neck. “Look who I found,” he singsonged.

The beast let out a feral purr. I turned my head in its direction but the blindfold held fast.

Loki laughed. “He says perhaps I am not so useless after all.”

I wet my lips. “You speak for him?”

Another gusting growl.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Loki stepped close, his hands busy above me.

Soon, I was tied up as I was before, with my arms stretched over my head, tethered to a tree branch high above. Were there trees in this magical place?

“Of course,” Loki continued. “Neither of us like it.”

So much had happened since I ran from them. “How can you understand him?”

“I have many talents.” He snapped his fingers, and the air chilled my body. My clothes had fallen away. I twisted naked in the wind.

“What are you doing?” I gasped.

“You know what.” Loki’s long fingers caressed my bare breast. Despite myself, I arched into his touch. “You’ve been here before. For once, Ragnar and I agree on something.” A howl broke out, melancholy and achingly beautiful. “Do you know what he’s saying?”

“No.”

“He says you ran from us. Now, you must atone.” He gathered my hair and tucked it over my shoulder so it flowed over my breasts, leaving my back bare.. “There. It’s time for your punishment.”

Even with my arms bound over my head, my toes curled.

“Cold?” Loki stroked my face. “Don’t worry. Soon, we will warm you.” A whip cracked behind me, making me jump. “We will teach you not to run from us.”

“How many?” Ragnar growled behind me, in the voice of the beast.

I tried to twist in his direction, and Loki steadied me.

“As many as she can take.” Loki grasped my hips. “Ready, little runaway?”

I braced myself. “Ready.”

But there was no way to anticipate Loki lowering his head, his hair brushing my face. His tongue swept inside my mouth, and I melted into him as the first lash hit my back. The strike was a shock to my senses but I felt no pain. The whip cracked again before the echo of the first lash faded from my ears. And then the pain hit me. The sting punched the breath from my lungs. Loki swallowed my cries and then lowered his head to my breast, his teeth gently biting my nipple. He sucked hard.

The whip struck between my shoulder blades again.

Fire blazed a trail between my legs, and Loki slid his hand down my midriff to cup me there. His long fingers probed the petals of my sex, nimbly threading themselves between my labia, gathering the dew that had collected there, and using it to rub along the tender bud that caused little lightning bolts to flash from my sex, burning white hot in my brain.

The lash landed again. I groaned. Loki grasped both my hips. His mouth covered my sex, his tongue licking up my slit, probing there. It found my clit and surrounded it with spiraling circles. He tongued me slowly, as if he had a lifetime to lap at my cunny.

The monster behind me was breathing hard. The whip cracked. My body swayed forward with the impact, but I felt nothing. Instead of pain, I felt a ghostly touch—soft as velvet, light as butterfly wings—dancing over my skin. It flowed up my back in golden rivulets. Everywhere the whip touched, heated velvet followed.

My body arched like a bow. I pressed my sex into Loki’s mouth, wishing I could see his face. His hands roamed over my bare chest, sliding up to squeeze one breast and then the other. He played me like a lyre, plucking at my nipples, drawing forth the music of my moans. Pleasure broke over me, tiny golden waves flowing through me, growing larger. This time, when the whip struck, I felt it, and it ignited a golden storm. I cried out, my body tightening as my climax crashed over me. Loki’s magic filled my body, pushing out any other sensation until I was made of pure ecstasy.

When I lifted my head, I sensed a presence behind me. Loki was still on his knees before me, toying with my sex. His hair brushed my belly.

But behind me lurked a giant. Prickles ran up my back, warning me that a predator was close. Hot breath puffed onto my neck. I sensed the creature was bigger and taller than anything I’d ever encountered. A monster.

Ragnar.

“Cut her down,” it growled. A thrill of fear ran through me, transmuted to pleasure by some wicked alchemy of Loki’s magic.

Loki released my hips. “Are you sure?”

Ragnar didn’t answer, and Loki’s sigh gusted against my bare flesh.

“Very well.” He rose.

There was a snick as the knife parted the leather thong holding me up. My arms dropped.

Ragnar growled. “Run.”

I staggered forward, stumbling as I found my footing. As soon as I did, I dashed forward. My fingers tore at the blindfold, ripping it off. But it did no good. All around me was mist.

I raced into the night.

A growl filled the world, so loud, the ground shook. Fear stabbed me, spurring me forward. I became a rabbit, white-eyed and dashing away from the wolf snapping at its heels. Only there wasn’t one monster chasing me. A shape loomed in the shadows next to me, and I veered to the right. The beast behind me gained speed, coming up on my left. I change directions again. The two monsters herded me between them until at last, one pounced. I lost my footing and rolled. The furred bulk of the monster covered me, catching me mid fall, and lowering me to the ground before pinning me down.

I lay covered in a blanket of cedar-scented fur. The black shape loomed over me. Fur crackled down his strong forearms. I struggled, and his eyes flashed gold. He lowered his wolf’s head and covered my shoulder with his huge mouth. Long white canines pressed into my skin without breaking it.

“Ragnar,” I panted. His ears twitched forward.

I raised a hand and stroked the fur on the monster’s face. His teeth left my skin. Hot breath caressed my face. For a moment, his heavy, heated weight pressed me into the forest floor. Then he moved off me and flipped me to my hands and knees. Something hot and thick rubbed the back of my leg, smearing fluid. I braced myself on my forearms, tipping forward to offer up my sex. And then I held very still.

Heavy paws grasped my hips, pulling me back. A cock, long and thick as a tree branch, rubbed between my legs. Fur chafed my backside. The dagger-sharp tips of the monster’s claws bit into my thighs.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Do it.”

The beast rumbled, and thrust inside. I cried out, shuddering forward. I felt his length and girth down to my toes. He was too big. Claws scraped my skin. The beast that was Ragnar filled me.

A second black shape blocked out the moonlight. Another furred monster, this one with raven-black eyes.

“Rosalind,” he purred in Loki’s voice. I closed my eyes. A large hand grasped my hair, claws scratching lightly at my scalp. A cock touched my lips. I licked the tip, tasting salt and intoxicating sweetness. I closed my mouth over it. The taste and scent of Loki surrounded me. I sucked greedily, wanting more.

“Take it.” His voice thickened. His cock pushed deeper. I dug my fingers into the earth, willing myself to open. To accept more of them.

“That’s it,” Loki hissed. “That’s the way.”

Behind me, Ragnar rocked slowly, inching deeper into my sex. I was so full. My belly cramped, but my inner muscles clenched, rippling over Ragnar’s cock. My cunny was greedy for more.

Then, inexplicably, Ragnar withdrew. Loki tugged my hair, pulling my mouth from his cock.

I whined, and Loki laughed. “Patience.” He lifted me in his furred arms, settling me on his cock. I was already stretched from Ragnar’s rod. Loki entered easily, but he was longer. I groaned as he slid deep—groaned, then shuddered.

“She’s ready,” Loki muttered.

A clawed hand collared my throat, tipping me back. “Open for me,” Ragnar purred. His cock nudged my rear, pushing between my bottom cheeks. The wet leaking from his cock painted my arsehole, and then he was pushing inside. My tiny opening resisted. Ragnar’s growl rumbled through me. Slowly, ever so slowly, the blunt head of his cock stretched me.

“Too much,” I moaned. “Too full.”

“You can take it.” Loki bent over me, licking at my lips. Fangs brushed my face.

“You will take it,” Ragnar rumbled.

My fingers flexed, gripping the silky folds of Loki’s fur. I reached back and touched the furred bulk that was Ragnar.

“Mine.” Ragnar’s fangs grazed my shoulder as if he might carve the words into my flesh. “Mine.”

Together, the monsters rocked deeper inside me. I shuddered in their hold.

Somehow, my body stretched to accommodate them. Deep inside me, the two cocks rubbed my inner channels, stimulating every part of me. They thrust in tandem, rocking in and out of me, stretching me further. I felt like I was breaking apart.

But then my clit caught a furred ridge. The motion of Loki’s thrusts rubbed the right parts of me, and the sting of the stretch transformed into something sweeter.

A burst of light grew in my belly. I was no longer made of flesh, but golden sensation.

Teeth fastened onto my shoulder, and I exploded. Light blazed through me.

Both monsters roared, impaling me on their stiffened rods. Wet heat seared my insides.

Loki pulled out, but Ragnar kept pumping in my ass, filling me so full, I felt that if I opened my mouth, his seed might spurt out of me.

I shuddered, limp. Ragnar slid his paw from my neck and steadied me against him as he slid out. Against my back, his chest rumbled with something like a purr.

They rolled me to a resting place between them. Their cedar and wintergreen scents blended over me. They were still monsters, but I didn’t care. They were my monsters.

The stars swirled overhead. I was dissolving into them, becoming bigger than myself. Someone safe and secure and more powerful. I reached up to touch the sky and for a moment, I was made of more than just flesh. I caught a glimpse of a woman who looked just like me. Her hair was the stuff of stars. Her eyes contained worlds. She was everything I wanted, everything I wished to be. One glimpse, and she was gone.

She’s not gone. She’s inside you. Loki spoke into my mind. You can find her again, and call upon her at will.

“The mage is waiting for me. I must go back.”

It does not matter. Ragnar’s voice echoed in my head. You will always be ours.

I touched the puncture wounds at the juncture of my shoulder and neck. “Will this be enough to claim me?”

No, little runaway. There's more to come, and you must be brave. But we will be by your side.

“But how?” I asked aloud.

We will not abandon you, Ragnar rasped. Nothing will stop us from coming to you.

A wrenching pain caught me unawares. I cried out. The Corpse King’s magic was upon me, and I could not escape.

“He’s pulling me back,” I gasped. “It hurts.” But as soon as I said that, the numbness spread over me—my body turning to stone once more.

Wait for us,Ragnar growled. Promise me.

“Promise.” I touched his face, wishing I could imprint the memory of him on my fingers. He nipped my fingers, and I welcomed the red burst of pain. I’d take the pain, so long as I could still feel.

Fear not, Loki said as the mage’s spell overtook me, surrounding me in darkness. I saw nothing, felt nothing, but their voices lingered, and I clung to their promise.

We will come for you.