Ægir

A Berserker Warrior Romance

Lee Savino

Silverwood Press, LLC

Contents

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

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About the Author

Ægir: A Berserker Warrior Romance

by Lee Savino

The only daughter of an Irish chieftain has one purpose and one alone: marry well. But on the eve of my wedding, I’m stolen away on a ghostly ship by a warrior trapped in time.

Legend tells of a Sea Wolf who must sail the northern seas until he finds the woman who can break his curse and lead him home.

The legend is real. The Sea Wolf has come for me.

Ægir (a Berserker novella) is a standalone fantasy romance novella starring a huge dominant warrior and the woman he will claim as his own. It was formerly titled The Sea Wolf and published in a pirate’s boxset.

* * *

The Berserker Saga

Sold to the Berserkers - – Brenna, Samuel & Daegan

Mated to the Berserkers - – Brenna, Samuel & Daegan

Bred by the Berserkers (FREE novella only available at www.leesavino.com) - – Brenna, Samuel & Daegan

Taken by the Berserkers – Sabine, Ragnvald & Maddox

Given to the Berserkers – Muriel and her mates

Claimed by the Berserkers – Fleur and her mates

Berserker Brides

Rescued by the Berserker – Hazel & Knut

Captured by the Berserkers – Willow, Leif & Brokk

Kidnapped by the Berserkers – Sage, Thorbjorn & Rolf

Bonded to the Berserkers  – Laurel, Haakon & Ulf

Berserker Babies – the sisters Brenna, Sabine, Muriel, Fleur and their mates

Night of the Berserkers – the witch Yseult’s story

Owned by the Berserkers – Fern, Dagg & Svein

Tamed by the Berserkers — Sorrel, Thorsteinn & Vik

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Get a secret Berserker book, Bred by the Berserkers (only to the awesomesauce fans on Lee’s email list)

Go here to get started… https://geni.us/BredBerserker

1

The wind whipped between the rocks, howling like a wolf. I stood on the edge of the cliff staring at the frothing water far below my feet. A fierce gust could pull me off balance or the ground could crumble under me and I’d fall to my death.

Or I could leap, arms outstretched to embrace the air.

It would be so easy. Just a single step—

“Muireann!” Nanny’s voice broke the fog before I saw her stooped form and beaked nose. She toddled up the old, perilous path, her round body threatening to pitch over into the water. I stepped back from the ledge, ready to keep her from falling.

“I thought I’d find you here,” she shouted over the wind. My braid was long undone, wild tendrils whipped my face.

“Oh,” Nanny scolded. “your hair.”

I’d been standing in the wind so long my lips were numb. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It will to your bridegroom.” Nanny tugged and tsked. “Fey locks, like your mother. I’ll have to comb it out before the crossing. Unless you were thinking of leaving now?” Nanny’s voice was mild, but her dark eyes were sharp as a raven’s. She already knew why I’d climbed the cliff this morn.

If Nanny had not come, I would’ve found it in me to take that final step. People would say I’d fallen to my death and the sea cheated the son of the Uí Néill chieftain of his chosen bride.

Nanny’s breath came in harsh puffs, misting the air. But she swallowed whatever she was about to say and raised a brow instead. “Is that the way you wish to go, then?” Nanny casually craned her neck to look down at the rocks. “I’ll tell them all you died.”

“It won’t deter Dòmhnall.” My bridegroom had promised he’d take this island one way or another. Marriage was our best option, he’d explained, but he wouldn’t mind shedding blood.

Marrying was the only way to prevent war. So, I must give up my life for my loved ones.

“It’s not too late,” Nanny said gently. She wouldn’t blame me if I tried to escape this marriage one way or another.

“No, Nanny. I’ll do my duty.” But I cast one longing look at the sea then followed my ancient nurse down the cliff and back towards home.

“So much fog this morning.” Nanny chattered as I helped her over the slippery rocks. “Twill make it hard for your bridegroom to fetch you.”

“It will break by midday,” I murmured. Would that the fog would shroud this island and hide it forever.

“Not this fog. Thick as a witch’s brew.”

I raised a brow at her. I was not the only woman the villagers called ‘witch.’

“Oh, I didn’t stir it up,” Nanny waved a hand as if she was talking of making stew, not controlling the weather. “Your mother knew how to call a storm, but she never taught me.”

“Nor I.”

“Pity.”

“We could not hide forever,” I murmured.

“We could, but your father would not like it. Your mother had a place she kept hidden away. A cabin on a tiny island. It’s still hidden by her spells, but a woman in need could find it.” Nanny’s eyes were black as a raven’s, staring into mine.

I shook my head. “I promised. Even if I run and hide, Dòmhnall will still come. And father would be in trouble.”

“Your father should’ve never promised you to him.”

“He had no choice,” I whispered. We’d reached the edge of the village and anyone might overhear us. I quickened my steps, linking my arm with Nanny’s to urge her along.

“What is the world coming to, that women are pawns in the hands of men? If your mother was alive—”

The wind whipped up, tossing her words out to sea. We bowed before the howling force, squinting and turning our faces aside.

Out on the water, the mist boiled with strange shapes. The swirling grey solidified for a moment into a curving prow. I started. Was that a ship out on the water?

“What is it?” Nanny shouted, looking where I stared.

“Nothing.” Nothing emerged from the fog. Not a ship, not a ghost. Perhaps I’d seen a vision but more likely it was nothing at all.

We ran the rest of the way to my father’s hall as wind sang like a lone wolf, a piercing cry of sorrow.

* * *

Once inside, Nanny secreted me to her favorite room off the kitchen. Here the light and warmth from the great hall’s hearth fire seeped in, but the herb bundles hanging from the lower roof gave us some privacy. Servants hustled about, but none dared trespass Nanny’s realm. I sat and sipped an herbal brew while Nanny fussed with my hair.

“Shall I tell you the story?”

“Why not,” I sighed. I’d heard all of Nanny’s stories before, but it would help pass the time.

“Once there was a great and fearsome warrior named The Wolf. He was the strongest and best of the king’s men but wished to keep his strength forever. He went to a witch for a spell to make him the greatest warrior of all time. The witch warned him that her magic had a price. She would make him the greatest warrior of all, but he—”

I closed my eyes and allowed Nanny’s voice to take me away as her clever fingers untangled the snarls in my hair. By the end of the story, my dark mane was tamed into a respectable plait befitting of a lady. And I was calm.

“There,” Nanny said at last, stepping back. “Now you can change, and you’ll be ready for the crossing.”

“I’m not changing.” The gown I’d worn to hike the hill wasn’t my best, but it was clean, and the color reminded me of my mother’s eyes. Paired with my sturdy boots, it would serve to deliver me to my intended.

“You’re wearing that to the wedding?” Nanny sounded scandalized. “What will the Uí Néill think of us?”

“The same as they already do.” I rose from the stool. I had no great height, but I towered over Nanny. “That we’re pagan savages.”

“Don’t let Father Pátraic hear you say that.” Nanny crossed herself but her rolling eyes belied her piety.

I grinned. “He knows he has work ahead of him to make our people forget the old ways. He’ll think it easier with me gone.”

“Dòmhnall won’t let you keep the old ways.” Nanny bustled about, gathering herbs into a linen cloth. “The Uí Néill keep the Christian faith.”

“I’ll never abandon my mother’s teachings.” I crossed to the hearth and gazed into a bowl of water. For a moment, smoke seemed to cross its surface. I stilled, willing the vision to come to me. My mother could scry at will, but my own visions came to me unbidden.

Before the smooth surface could show me anything, Nanny plopped down on the hearth, bumping the bowl. As she tsked and wiped up spilt water, the smoke swirled away.

“Your husband might insist you do. According to Father Pátraic, Christians prefer their wives silent and biddable.”

“Silent maybe. I doubt I’ll have much to say to the Uí Néill. But my new husband has a lesson coming to him, if he thinks I’ll be biddable.”

“Good lass.” Nanny handed me the linen bundle. “Keep that secret and safe. You’ll know how to use it, if the time comes.” She winked but I tucked away her offering carefully. My mother taught me to use herbs to ward off sickness and prevent quickening since I was old enough to tend a fire. I had my own herb sachets in my packed belongings. I’d not bear Dòmhnall a child unless I wished.

Murmurs outside the stillroom made our conversation cease. A young servant heralded the arrival of Father Pátraic.

“The boat is here. Your bridegroom awaits,” the priest said, his ceremonious air ruined by him addressing one of the hanging herb bundles. Nanny cleared her throat and he turned his myopic gaze to me. “The Lord grant you safe passage over the channel.” He shifted from foot to foot, ill at ease in Nanny’s domain.

I nodded my thanks and swept past him. Of all my father’s people, the priest would be the happiest to see me go. With Nanny’s help, I’d taken my mother’s place as healer and wise woman. I took care not to gainsay any of the priest’s preaching, but my very presence seemed to threaten him. In his narrow world, a woman should not speak her mind, or wield so much power.

Together Nanny and I made our way down to the beach.

“The fog’s still upon us. Do you think Dòmhnall will wait to send the boat for you tomorrow?”

“He did not want to wait, remember? He saw me at the fair and would have no other for his bride.” My lip curled.

“And your father wouldn’t gainsay him.”

“Only because he is the son of a great chieftain who has the High King’s ear. The daughter of a tiny tuatha should be grateful for such a match.”

Nanny sniffed. “You’re the daughter of a chieftain, equal to Dòmhnall. And your mother had great power.” She glanced around but none of my father’s servants were close enough to hear her lowered tone.

“Some power, that it could to save her.” My mother had died when sickness came to the village. “Some power, that it cannot save me.”

“It could…” Nanny began carefully.

“No. I told you I would not. Do not speak of it again,” I snapped. Escape would lead to my father’s ruin, for all it tempted me.

Nanny fell silent, bending to tuck away a loose thread in my cloak. She didn’t chastise me. She didn’t have to.

I rubbed my forehead. “Forgive my short temper. I am already weary of this day.”

“Cheer up, child.” Her efforts to disperse my melancholy were relentless. “Remember the stories your mother told, of the great warrior who’d bear you across the sea? Your mother knew this day would come. That’s why she named you ‘Muireann’.”

“The bullying son of an Uí Néill is hardly a great warrior. And the channel is hardly the boundless sea. Besides, that is only a tale she told me to sleep.”

“The seed of a story is truth. Your mother told many stories and they all bear a truth.”

“You speak of the charm she spoke over me.”

“As a raven flies true, you’ll always find your way home,” Nanny recited.

I twisted to face her.

“That was before my powers had come to be,” I whispered. “She could not have known.”

“She knew. Where do you think your powers came from?”

I straightened, unwilling to speak more about what should be kept secret. My mother’s powers were whispered about in the village, but I took care to limit my gifts to herbs and healing arts. Not even my father knew what I could do.

“There’s the boat,” Father Pátraic caught up with Nanny and I.

A small skiff lay beached next to its oars. One of my father’s men, Danny stood by ready to row me across. Other than him, only two of the men gathered on the beach were unknown to me. They were big, thuggish types, fully armed as if they expected trouble. These must be Dòmhnall’s men, come to ensure his unwilling bride got in the boat.

“Dòmhnall didn’t come himself.” Nanny frowned.

“He knows we dare not disobey him.” Dòmhnall made it clear in the marriage talks with my father. If I did not marry him and give him inheritance rights through my dowry, he’d come with a band of men and take the island by force. By blood or by marriage, he’d possess our island. My sacrifice meant no folk would fall to his fianna’s swords.

“So much for the great warrior bearing me across the sea,” I murmured to Nanny before greeting Danny and giving a nod to my escort. The two thugs ignored me. With any luck, after the formality of the ceremony, their lord would too.

“A moment before you board,” Father Pátraic couldn’t help officiate. “Your father is coming to see you off.”

“Better hurry,” Nanny muttered. “If the weather gets any worse, you’ll have to wait. But at least the wind’s died.”

I strode to the water’s edge, toeing a few rocks with my boots. The fog lay like a grey cloak on the water. I could not see the way across. But as I stared, the dark depths swirled, offering up strange shapes and wraiths. Was that a ship in the mist? The proud curl of a dragon-headed prow?

I caught my breath. Such ships had not been seen on these shores for many years.

“My lady?” Nanny tugged on my arm and I let her pull me back from the shore.

I was Seeing things. Perhaps I should’ve spent the morning trying to scry. Not that I wished to see the future, but if the gods had something to tell me the visions came whether I wanted them or not.

A crowd had gathered on the beach to see me off. The villagers approached me one by one to thank me and bid me safe travel. I murmured my thanks while Father Pátraic looked on sourly. I’d said goodbye to the last when the ranks parted and my father came forward, his new young wife at his side.

“Storm’s coming. Are you sure you should not leave tomorrow?”

“I’m fine, Father. Best not delay.”

He signaled and a maidservant brought forward a gift. A thick cloak lined with fur. Nanny helped wrap me in it.

“Would that your mother were here. She would be proud to see you.”

“Thank you, Father,” I willed my voice not to shake. A sob caught my throat when I saw the brooch Nanny used to secure my new brat. A raven made of heavy silver. As a raven flies true, you’ll always find your way home. The brooch would be a reminder.

“My lady?” Nanny asked when I fingered the shape of a bird in flight.

“I’m fine,” I whispered to her. “I’ll not fly away.” Not yet.

She patted my cheek, tears in her eyes.

“Be good, daughter,” my father kissed me clumsily.

“Goodbye, father,” I said and stepped back to let Nanny draw down my veil. My mother had worn a similar veil when she came across the sea to marry my father. The dark head covering was my one concession to ceremony. “I’ll send word when I am married.”

Danny helped me into the boat. Dòmhnall’s men had already commandeered the prow. I sat straight and proud, looking to sea as Danny rowed away.

The way across the channel was not treacherous as long as we did not lose our way and head for the rocky parts of the shore. The mist made monsters out of the great rocks, turning them into shrouded heads rearing from the sea. I waited for another vision to come, but none did. I turned my thoughts to my bridegroom.

Dòmhnall was son of a powerful chieftain. Both he and his father were rough and fond of battle, and land hungry. Why they thought our island was worth negotiating for, I’d never know. Perhaps the tale that Dòmhnall thought I was the loveliest woman he’d ever seen was true. More likely I had insulted him somehow with my reticence to any man’s claim, and he wished to prove his power by ruling over me.

Dòmhnall was a bully, but as bridegrooms went, there were worse. I would be fine. I would survive.

“Curse this bitter weather.” Danny muttered after a time.

“Shut up and row,” the warrior ordered.

“Do as they say,” I murmured, adjusting myself in my seat to keep my gown out of the bilge water at the bottom of the boat.

“You’re a quiet one,” said the younger of Dòmhnall’s men.

I ignored him, looking out over the sea.

“Our lord prefers his women quiet. He has other uses for a woman’s mouth.” Their crude laughter echoed over the water.

They continued with many rude jests until Danny was white-faced and tight-mouthed and ready to burst with counter insults.

I pressed my lips together and motioned with my hand to be sure Danny would restrain himself. He knew I could handle myself.

My mother had often told me the tale of a great warrior, cursed by a witch to become a monster forever roaming the seas. The same tale Nanny had told me earlier. The story ended with the promise: As a raven flies true, you’ll always find your way home.

My lips curled. Nanny said there was a touch of truth to my mother’s tales, but Dòmhnall was no great warrior, though he would boast otherwise. Nor was he a monster, unless monsters were men who ruled because they had the biggest armies and loudest voices, voices as empty and hollow of reason as their baying hounds. Those were the only monsters I knew.

Dòmhnall’s men had fallen silent until the only sound was the creaking oars and the beating of my heart. The mist was a grey wall on the water, blinding us to all but ghostly shapes in the distance.

When the dragon headed prow first loomed from the mist, I thought I was dreaming.

“What the—” one of the warriors let the strip of dried meat he was chewing fall from his mouth.

“What is it?” his companion twisted and stared into the fog.

“I thought I saw—” the first set a hand to his weapon, shifting on the bench. “There! Ahead, do you see it?”

“Curse this fog. Those are only rocks.” And, to Danny, “Row, boy.”

I stared into the billowing cloud low on the water. I could not be sure, but my ears caught the cry of a wolf, far across the water. My arms prickled. In the mists of time, the Sea Wolf stalks his prey.

“I saw something,” the warrior insisted. “T’was more than a rock.”

“You’re supposed to wait ‘til tonight to drink. Wait until I tell his lordship you were in your cups—”

“There! Look.” The first warrior seized his friend and faced him north. At least, I supposed it was north. Thick grey walls surrounded us.

“I see nothing,” the second warrior said, but his brow wrinkled. Even Danny craned his neck and I leaned over the side of the boat. Was that a shadow on the water?

“Tis nothing. A trick of the light…”

The wind picked up, cleaving the mist like a knife shearing wool. Out of the gloom a ship appeared, a great black sail straining beyond the wooden prow. A carved dragon head, sharp-toothed and snarling, gaped at us.

For a moment we were all frozen.

Chills ran through me. The dragon-headed prow, the billowing sail—I’d heard of such ships before. They’d come to harry our shores, attack and set fire to our crofts, steal gold and any goods, kill the men and carry the women off for slaves. But the High Kings of old had fought and driven the Northmen off. The Northmen’s ships hadn’t haunted our land in over hundred years.

The dragon-headed boat glided forward, silent for such a great craft. It was not legend. It was real.

And it was headed straight for us.

“Morrigan’s britches,” Danny gasped.

“Row, damn you,” one of the armed men shouted, but too late. The long boat glided close to us, the swells making us bob up and down like a tiny cork in a sloshing barrel of ale.

Alarm clutched me. The boat tilted sideways, sliding down the side of a wave, threatening to tip. Bilge water slopped at my feet. A white-knuckle grip on my perch kept me from tumbling out. We hovered sideways for a heart stopping second before balancing.

When we bobbed upright, the Viking ship was upon us.

Dòmhnall’s men may not have been my choice of an escort, but they were well trained. As one, they rose and drew their swords, one grimly straddling the bench and the other setting his back to his companion’s. But their brave stand was overshadowed by the great ship.

Danny struggled to row, but the wake overwhelmed us, and his hands slipped on the oars. I didn’t blame him. My own face and limbs were numb. I was glad of the veil hiding my fear-filled expression.

For all its speed catching us, the ship did not seem manned by anyone. If the wind wasn’t slapping the sail, whipping the tattered edges, I’d say it was a ghost ship, a vision, a nightmare haunting rising from my fears about Dòmhnall’s threats and my wedding. Would that I would wake up…

A figure appeared at the prow. Danu preserve us. A huge warrior stood with a boot propped on the boat edge. He was half-naked, his broad chest half covered in a white fur pelt. His golden head was bare, long hair streaming in the wind like a standard. And he was looking right at me.

The wolf howled again. It was not a trick of the wind. My toes curled in my boots and I gritted my teeth, tears pricking my eyes at the long, mournful note.

The fog swallowed the prow, hiding the warrior for a merciful moment. When it broke again, another fearsome figure appeared. This was no man. The head was a bear’s head, teeth bared as if the animal was a second away from attacking.

Then the fog slipped away, revealing the truth. The bear’s head was only a pelt, worn on the tall man’s head.

Another man appeared, and another. Warriors all, ranged along the side of the ship, big and brawny with bare chests or rough garb. Some wore animal pelts. A few had rough helmets made of dull metal. Besides the bear, there was another wolf’s head, its mouth open and roaring.

“Danu save us,” Danny whimpered. The warriors all glared down at us, silent. Waiting.

Calm suffused my limbs. They were not here to do battle. Perhaps we would be spared.

My escort’s voice rang out.

“Who are you? This channel belongs to Dòmhnall now, given in marriage. What right do you have to sail these waters?” the man blustered but his voice cracked.

None of the warriors answered. I began to believe they were ghosts when they moved aside and the first warrior I’d seen set his hands on the side of the ship. He was the biggest warrior of them all. Tawny hair tumbled over his broad shoulders. In his huge hands, he held a double headed axe.

Silently, he handed the weapon to one of the ghostly men before hopping onto the ledge.

Oh, mother, I thought despite my fear. This is a great warrior. And he was looking straight at me as if he’d strip off my clothes with his gaze.

I shrank before I remembered I wore a veil.

“Tell us what you want,” the elder of my escort boomed. I would’ve laughed at his ridiculous bravado if we hadn’t been staring death in the face.

The golden-haired warrior raised a hand and pointed to me.

My heart thumped once, twice.

From the fog, a bird came flapping dark wings. A raven. The black bird landed beside the warrior’s boot a moment, then flew off.

A sign, for me.

The silver wings of my brooch dug into my palm. I wanted to fly away and follow the raven so bad my bones hurt.

You. The golden-haired warrior seemed to say. He kept his balance on the ship edge even as the wind picked up and tore at the edge of the white pelt he wore for a cloak.

“You can’t—” my would-be protector started, but the lion-headed warrior leapt.

“No—” I choked and grabbed onto the bench just in time.

The warrior landed perfectly in the center of our craft. A jump farther than most men could’ve made, and he rose strong and steady as if he’d been born with the roiling sea under his feet.

I hung on as the boat rocked and threatened to capsize. Danny did the same, almost flung to the bottom of the boat. As it was, his garments were soaked with bilge when he struggled to his seat.

With our attacker’s bulk, I could not see if the force of the boat’s shuddering knocked Dòmhnall’s warriors to the water, or if the warrior struck and dispatched them to the water. A splash and the two members of my escort were gone.

Danny reared up.

“Nay,” I shouted and stood, the rocking boat making my movements more careful than my temper. Seizing Danny’s arm and forcing him to steady me, I clambered between him and the warrior.

I would not see my father’s man struck down by any warrior, ghost ship or no.

As I neared the intruder, a honeyed scent rose, as if I’d open a casket of ale or one of Nanny’s herbed brews. The warrior’s head shot back, his nostrils flaring as if he scented it too.

Up close he was as large as he first looked. I was small as one of the hill folk compared to him. My head only came up to his chest, but my blood was too hot to notice.

I ripped off my veil and tossed it aside, glaring up at him.

“What do you mean by this?”

The warrior stared.

“Who are you?”

A wolf howled, the sound so loud it must be nearby. On the ship. But why? Who would bring a wolf onto a ship?

The Sea Wolf. My mother’s voice came to me. A warrior cursed to sail until he finds the one who can bring him home.

But that was just a story. This was real.

The warrior held out his hand to me.

“What do you want?” My breath came in sharp gusts. “I don’t understand.”

He beckoned again.

“No, lady!” Danny scrambled to his feet. Our small craft shuddered, and I fell towards the warrior. Strong hands caught my shoulders. I blinked into golden eyes, shining with an eldritch light. This was no ordinary man.

“Danny, stay back.” I didn’t look away. Danu only knew how I found my voice. “Go back to my father and tell him…”

I trailed off as the warrior’s longship loomed over us. In another moment we would crash into the ship’s side.

The warrior tossed me over his shoulder. The world tilted and my hair veiled my face. I cried out and got a mouthful of fur from the pelt the warrior wore.

The muscles of his shoulder bunched under my belly—no!—and the wind rushed over my face. Danny’s frightened shout echoing after me, the sound growing further and further away.

“To the north!” someone cried.

“To the north,” voices roared around me. Great whoops and howling as if this was a wolf pack and not a band of men.

Fog poured over the deck. The air was thick, too thick to breathe. The warrior dropped something heavy over my body before heading to the prow of the boat.

He moved with a powerful, swaying stride. This one has spent too much time at sea, I thought before the blood rushed to my head and I slumped to the deck.

* * *

When I woke, I lay hot and heavy on the ship deck. Someone had thrown a fur over me. A thick white pelt, like the one the golden-haired warrior wore.

My head throbbed.

“What...” I mumbled, my words garbled. My arms felt heavy and my chest was full of rocks. My head pounded as if I’d drunk a half barrel of Nanny’s best metheglin.

Voices rumbled in the distance before a pair of boots thumped closer.

“Easy,” someone murmured. Something smooth touched my lips and when I thrashed, water spattered my face.

“Calm yourself. ‘Tis only water.”

My tongue lay thick in my mouth. My head was still filled with clouds. I felt this way sometimes, after I’d had a vision. Was that why I had fainted?

When I opened my eyes, the world was grey. My face was wet and so was the pelt. It must have rained. But I still needed water.

A warrior, dark-skinned with a patterned feather hanging from his ear, set the cup to my lips again. I drank, but when I went to grab the cup the warrior drew back. “Careful.”

The warning surprised me. The feather fluttered as the dark warrior backed away. He refilled the cup and set it by my foot. He retreated before I reached for it.

“He won’t like it if I touch you.”

“Who?”

A pause. Then, reluctantly, “The Sea Wolf.”

Under the heavy, white fur, my body trembled. I turned my head to the prow of the boat where a giant figure gazed straight out into the mist.

“That’s him,” the warrior confirmed.

“Who is he?”

A shrug.

“The Sea Wolf is a legend.”

Another shrug.

“Who are you?”

“They call me Hawk,” he grinned, flashing straight white teeth. “Now calm yourself, lass.

I scooted back to lean against the sturdy mast. The white pelt was large enough to cover most of my body, so I huddled under it. I was not ashamed to hide.

We seemed to be sailing into a storm. Rain lashed the mainsail. The wind rifled the ragged lines. I listened for the wolf howl but heard only ordinary sounds.

How long had I been asleep? How far were we from land? Had Danny gotten back to my father’s holding before the weather turned bad?

Poor Danny.

Poor me, if I did not escape. I could use magic but would prefer not to brave this weather.

For now, I’d rest.

The warriors I’d seen before tromped back and forth, keeping the ship moving in whatever direction we were headed. Other than Hawk, no one paid me any attention. When they came to fiddle with the mainstay, they gave me wide berth.

The Sea Wolf, or whoever he was, did not come back to check on his captive. Why had he taken me?

I fiddled with the silver brooch as I tried to remember the old tale. A warrior cursed by a witch. Forced to sail the open sea. I’d not paid close attention to the terms of the curse, or the story’s end. Something about a raven and a woman.

Apparently, he thought I was the woman. Which was ridiculous. First Dòmhnall, now him. This Sea Wolf.

The longer I leaned against the mast, the angrier I became. When a trio of warriors tromped by, their tattooed faces averted as if I was dangerous to look at, I’d had enough.

I surged to my feet, squinting against the protest of my aching head, and started towards the prow.

That’s when I found I was tied to the mast by a rope secured around my neck. I fought with the knots until Hawk appeared.

I dropped my hands as he loomed over me. I had a knife in my bodice, next to my beating heart. But I didn’t want to use it too soon.

“A precaution,” said Hawk, nodding to the rope. “He doesn’t want you throwing yourself overboard.”

I fisted my hands at my side. “I am Muireann, daughter of the lord of the Northern Isle. I demand to speak with your leader. My father can pay ransom. Or my husband, if you return me to him.”

The warrior cocked his head. “Husband?”

“My intended,” I admitted. “I was to meet him when he—your leader—took me.”

The warrior grunted. He opened a leather pack and offered me a small dried fish. I wrinkled my nose. I’d already had enough of the sea.

“I must speak to him,” I insisted, trying to step around the warrior, brought up short by the rope I’d forgotten. When I grabbed at the tether the warrior made a warning gesture.

“I wouldn’t if I were you. Not if you don’t want to be tied down completely.”

“I’m the daughter of the lord of the Northern Isle and I demand—”

“You’re not daughter of anyone anymore. Or intended,” he spat the word. “You belong to the Sea Wolf now.”

* * *

2

I kept my head down for the rest of the journey. Goddess help me. I had my own resources, the tricks my mother taught me, but the fog still surrounded us. This ship, these warriors, the mist seemed otherworldly. I’d heard of people unlucky enough to be stolen by the sidhe or to bumble into the land of the fair folk by accident. They were trapped in the otherworld, outside of time. After a season or two, they might return home to find a hundred years gone by.

Is that what the mists meant? Had I crossed the border into another world. And if so, how could I return home?

I must have dozed, for shouts awakened me. When I rose, I gasped. Ahead loomed two giant rocks and the ship was headed straight for them.

“Stop,” I whispered, but we rode the swell, gliding between the stones. The fit was so tight, if I’d leaned over the ship’s side, I could’ve touched the granite pillar.

Beyond the archway was a small harbor, somewhat protected from the angry weather. I scrambled out of the way as the warriors let down the sail and braced myself when it seemed they’d let the ship run right up on the beach.

I was right. The shallow-bottomed craft rode the waves right to shore. Warriors poured over the sides, shouting to one another.

Hawk took the rope from the mast that leashed me. “Come then,” he ordered. I glanced to the prow, but it was empty.

Hawk smirked when he saw me looking for his leader. “He’s gone. He’ll meet you inside. Come.” For all his rough tugging on the tether, he helped me down gently, though he was careful to only touch the parts of me covered by the wolf pelt.

When I stepped onto the sand, but my body tingled as if magic leavened the air.

“Come on,” Hawk started towards a dark grey cliff at the far end of the beach. I scrambled to follow. A light rain washed my face, turned the white fur I wore into wet spikes. At least my braid had held.

The cliff turned out to be a stone keep. An old Viking stronghold, carved from the sea rocks.

The Sea Wolf was cursed. He could not set a foot on land or else... Nanny’s words tugged at me as Hawk led me into the massive keep. The roof was part gone, leaving the hall open to the elements. The old stones were worn from the work of keeping the ocean outside. A few more decades and the walls would crumble into the sea.

The warrior band dispersed, their movements certain. some went up the shore to collect bits of driftwood. Another knelt in the great hall, stoking a fire. The rest seemed to have duties unloading or loading supplies, heading out to fish or spreading out skins to dry.

Hawk led me past all this to an ancient staircase curving along one wall, the stone steps were narrow and perilous, crumbling underfoot. I bit back a whimper. My captor kept a firm hand on my leash, tugging me closer, but he was not unkind. When I reached him, he bid me walk before him, and he let me inch along next to the wall while he kept to the outside. Despite his care not to touch me, the unspoken message was that he’d catch me if I fell.

Slowly I made my way up and up, fixing my eyes on the narrow doorway at the top and not at the dizzying distance to the stone floor. If the men working below watched our progress, I did not know.

When we reached the top step, I hesitated.

“Go on,” Hawk ordered, and I stumbled into a dark, empty-smelling room. The roof here was better preserved, held up by a great trunk in the center of the room. The only light came from a broken wall.

My captor brushed past me, tugging the leash to bring me to the center of the room. He tucked the end of the rope under his boot as he knelt to build up a fire.

I took a chance to study the room. A small table holding nothing but a great horn. One side of the room, the farthest from the door, was a giant bed heaped with animal pelts. Large enough to fit the giant warrior and a whole bevy of women. I backed away as far as the leash would let me and turned to examine the broken wall. It was in the rough shape of a window, but someone had torn out the stones to widen it large enough for a man to fit through.

I inched closer to the opening. If I rose to tiptoe I could see the wild sea without, the waves crashing against the base of the stone keep far below. But this tower was separate from the keep, suspended on little more than a few stone buttresses and air.

“You won’t find escape that way.” Hawk cut into my thoughts. “Just a long, long drop to your end on the rocks.” He gave me a sardonic glance before turning back to coax the fire.

I bit my lip. He didn’t know my powers.

But he was right. Until I was sure I could find my way back through the storm, I dare not climb through the window and jump.

I plucked at my damp sleeves, staring out the window. There was nothing else in this room to look at besides Hawk or the bed.

I didn’t fear Hawk. He took too much care around me. The Sea Wolf had a loyal servant. Would he inspire the same loyalty in his slaves?

The logs were snapping and crackling in a meager blaze when Hawk rose, my leash in hand. Holding my gaze, he secured the rope around the great pillar in the center of the room. “In case you decide you’d prefer the long drop.”

I shook my head. If I leapt from the window, I would not die. But he didn’t know that.

Once he secured my lead, Hawk headed for the door. I followed but the rope wouldn’t allow me to reach the door.

“Wait!” The firelight made me bold. “Why am I here?”

He smirked over his shoulder. “You’ll know soon enough.”

I took a steadying breath. “You said I belong to the Sea Wolf. Where is he?”

“Don’t you worry. He’s coming.” With a nod at the window, he left.

I couldn’t help stretching my tether as close to the window as it would go. A storm had rolled up, rain beating the sea-washed stone. The giant barriers to this hidden cove loomed so large, I could scarce believe the boat fit between them, slipping like a thread through a needle.

What a strange place this was. Stormy and full of mist but the longer I tarried the more I knew this place was not the otherworld. It was real.

My hand worked at the knotted collar, but my fingers were clumsy.

I had a knife hidden in my bodice, but it was too soon to draw it out. Even if I cut myself free and escaped out the window, I was weak and tired and could not fly all the way home.

No, best to stay and rest, and learn the rest of the story.

That’s right, daughter. That’s the way.

As I stared out the window, a shape detached itself from one of the giant rocks, and leapt through the mist, landing on another outcropping that brought it closer to the keep. The dark shape rose up again and leapt from rock to rock. But no, it couldn’t be. The distance was further than any man could jump.

The wind howled and shook the rocks. The sound was like the eerie dirge I heard earlier—was it only this morning?

The storm made the sea surge, water fingers tipped with foam reaching, grasping, failing to pluck the shape right off its path. But the figure kept coming.

The clouds parted enough to limn the bright head with silver light. The Sea Wolf was right outside the window, making his way to the keep, leaping and climbing like a creature from myth imbued with supernatural powers.

The man reached the base of the keep. There was no way an ordinary man could scale the wet-slicked stones. But this was no ordinary man.

Pay attention, daughter. Remember the story.

I retreated until the lodge pole was at my back, but kept my eyes fixed on the window. My heart was already in my throat, so I felt nary a tremor of surprise when the great golden head appeared. Battle roughened hands gripped the broken stones, pulling another free and tossing it behind. And so, the Sea Wolf entered his keep and the tower where his man had imprisoned me.

When he straightened, the top of his head threatening to brush the roof where it met the old wall. He strode in, filling the room with his muscled bulk. The room shrank and I shrank along with it. With light, sure steps he approached. My hands touched the rough wood behind me. No escape there. I clenched my fists and teeth, raising my chin to hold his gaze.

He stopped when there was nothing but a hairsbreadth between us. His rich honeyed scent drenched my senses, drugging me. I swayed.

His face was broad yet spare, like a sand colored rock face scoured clean by years of sun and wind. His brows and hair were the same tawny gold of the tow-headed conquerors from the north. He was a Northman, and this an old Viking hold.

I stared up at him, unable to speak, unable to move. My heart thumped loudly. By the way he tilted his head, I swore he heard each beat.

His hands were large and scarred, but gentle as he tilted my head up to examine the rope collar. When he withdrew and marched to the fire, I slumped against the wood post, weary after holding myself upright and courageous in the thrall of those bright eyes.

Crouching, he tossed a few more logs onto the blaze. When his boot steps returned, I kept my head down until a tug and a snap told me he’d cut the rope that tethered me. Slowly he drew me up, forcing me to scramble to my feet if I didn’t want the rope to choke me. Without looking back, he pulled me along to stand before the bed. The wood creaked as he settled himself.

I kept as much distance as the tether allowed.

He patted his knee and looked expectantly at me.

“No,” I muttered and cleared my throat of cobwebs. He wasn’t forcing me onto the bed even though he easily could. Nor had he thrown me down, tore my gown and claimed me in a captor’s right. His care made me bold. “No,” I said louder and planted my feet, calling up the haughty iron of a chieftain. “You will explain to me why I am here.”

He tilted his head again and I recognized the movement and glowing eyes as wolf’s, wary and confident all at once.

“Where are we? Why did you take me?” I challenged.

A rough scrape on the step made me whirl. Hawk paused in the door, wearing his typical smirk. He hesitated, looking past me to his leader and raising the earthen jug he held.

The Sea Wolf nodded. Before I knew what was happening, he reeled me in until I stood between his legs. His thighs were thick as tree trucks, wider than my hips. I clenched my hands before I reached out to use them to steady me.

Hawk set the jug down on the table. “The men have built the fire. There’ll be meat, soon.”

My golden-haired captor grunted. Hawk touched his forehead and was gone.

The Sea Wolf looked at me and pointedly at the jug. It seemed I was to act as a serving wench.

But I was grateful for something to do. And a horn would keep his hands busy and away from me.

Aware of his gaze on my back, I went to the small table and filled the horn. It took all my will to pivot and walk the short distance back to the bed. I held out the drink as soon as I could, but the Sea Wolf had another idea. Instead of taking the horn, he drew me forward, a sardonic humor in the curve of his mouth. The closer I grew the more the honeyed scent enveloped me. Mead tempered with the sharp tang of salt.

Using the leash, he maneuvered me between his knees. Closer, closer, he reeled me in, until I practically rested on his great chest. Reluctantly I raised the cup to his lips. He drank deeply, eyes on mine, and pushed it back to my lips.

I shook my head. I did not want to drink and lose myself. He stared at me and I lost my nerve. Dropping my eyes, I drank a mouthful.

“I’ll get more,” I muttered. I could not take much more of this. I swayed and almost stumbled on my way back to the table. Danu curse him! A man had never affected me thus. His very presence intoxicated me.

It was time. Before I lost my nerve, I slipped my left hand in my bodice for my knife. One strike, and my captivity would end.

The next time the Sea Wolf tugged me forward, I let my hair fall in a thick curtain between us. I held the horn to his lips as the fingers of my free hand closed around knife hilt.

“Drink,” I whispered. He gulped and pushed the horn to my lips. My eyes held his as I sipped. When I lowered the horn, my hand was at his throat, the knife point set into the hollow below his jaw.

For a moment his eyes glimmered—did he guess?—and my arm weakened. Then I pressed the blade and drew it across. Fast. Hard. As if he were a goat or deer marked for sacrifice. A quick, clean kill.

I had forgotten there’d be so much blood. A red spray hit me in the face. I choked and fell back, sputtering.

The knife hit the stone floor with a clang. Then there was nothing but a horrible, gurgling sound. The Sea Wolf’s life ebbing out.

Pain wrenched my middle. I stood with head bowed and hair tangled over my face and counted my heartbeats. One. Two. Three. Long enough for a man to die.

But when I risked a glance, a golden blaze caught me fast.

No. Impossible.

The warrior raised a hand to his wounded throat. He pulled it away and examined his dripping fingers with mild curiosity. He shrugged back his red-stained hair. Blood pooled on his chest, ran in rivulets between the muscles. Another heartbeat and another, and the ruby waterfall lessened to a thin trickle.

The Sea Wolf was not dead. I had failed.

The horrible gurgles stopped, replaced by a deep chuckle. The man who should be dead was laughing at me.

My knees knocked and I slumped to the flagstones, weak as if my own life’s blood had run out.

That was how Hawk found us. He clattered up the steps, a platter of roast meat in his hand and stopped short to stare. When he’d left we hadn’t been covered in blood.

I cowered against the pillar as the Sea Wolf kept laughing, laughing.

Hawk recovered quickly. With his own guffaw, he set the platter down and dusted his hands.

“I leave for a moment and she tried to kill ye?”

The Sea Wolf stopped chuckling and shrugged.

“Ah, well, I’ll fetch water to wash.” He started to turn and spared a glance for me, curled into a frightened ball. “Tried to get the best of him, did ye?” Hawk mocked. “Takes more than a blade to kill this one.”

I wiped the blood from my mouth. “W-what happened? What is he?”

“Ask him yourself.”

“I can’t.” I looked to the Sea Wolf, who sobered. “You can’t talk, can you?”

“He used to,” Hawk cleared his throat. “Shall I tell her?” He asked his leader and at the Sea Wolf’s nod, explained, “A witch cast a spell on him long ago. The spell was meant to give him great power.”

“The strength and speed of a wolf,” I whispered.

“You sure about this?” Hawk asked and his leader growled. “The spell worked. But then it turned into a curse. No man can kill him but if he puts a foot on land, he becomes a mindless beast.”

“Not till the raven leads you home.” I repeated the lines from the story, my heart twisting. There was such sadness in the Sea Wolf’s eyes.

“She’s a canny one, I’ll give you,” Hawk grunted to his leader. “But I still don’t like it.”

“Wait—” I called to Hawk. But the warrior with the feather in his ear turned on his heel and disappeared down the dark stairs. Leaving me to face the man I’d tried to kill.

I winced when I heard his booted steps coming my way, even though I expected them.

My warrior captor raised me up and I trembled. He used the rope around my neck, winding it about his palm until I stood nose to nose with him. Would he turn the collar into a noose and strangle me? I was easy to kill.

Unlike him.

The rope was slick with his own blood. So was the knife he held—my knife he’d retrieved from the floor. It was narrow enough to slide between the rope and my neck.

“Make it quick,” I said, and closed my eyes. The blade rested against my pulse for one heartbeat. Two. Three—

A sharp jerk and the rope hit the floor, followed by the knife.

He’d cut off the collar.

The booted steps retreated. And when I opened my eyes there was nothing to stop me from rushing to the window and leaping to freedom.

Nothing but curiosity.

I peered around the pillar at the giant warrior. He’d filled the horn and taken it to drink by the fire. The reddish light lined his profile.

“What are you going to do with me?” He could not speak. Had he forgotten how? “Will you kill me?”

He tipped the horn up, hiding half his face a moment. With a weary movement, he faced me. Pressing his lips together, he shook his head.

“Why am I here then? Do you need a witch to break the spell?”

He stared.

I took a step towards him. “You must know I am not that witch. I am not powerful. Not like my mother. She told me—”

But a scrape on the stone silenced me. Hawk was back with a bowl of water and a cloth.

“For you, my lady,” he said with a mocking bow. When I didn’t move, he raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t your mother teach you to put things to right?”

He meant for me to clean up all the blood. My mess. My attempt at murder.

Gathering my hair back from my face, I nodded.

Hawk rolled his eyes and he headed back out the door.

“Wait,” I cried. “Tell me his name.”

Hawk stopped with one boot on the step but didn’t turn around. “Told you,” he muttered. “He’s the Sea Wolf.”

“That’s what they call him,” I said, exasperated. “What’s his name?”

Hawk shrugged. “Don’t know.”

“You don’t know his name?”

“He don’t know. He don’t remember it. Forgotten how to speak, too.” Hawk tugged his ear and smoothed the feather hanging from it. “If you want him to talk, you’ll have to teach him. Might as well name him, too.” And he left.

I covered my face with my hands. The fire crackled, a warm, welcoming sound. If I was a captive, at least I was comfortable.

For now.

Ignoring the boulders in my stomach, I took up the cloth and wet it. “So, it’s up to me to name you?” I murmured as I wiped my lips and face clean. “Mac Tíre. That’s what the villagers call a wolf. Though you’re not from the country, are you? Can’t put a foot on land.”

When I was done washing, I carried the bowl of water to the hearthside. The Sea Wolf watched me calmly. He had no anger for what I’d done. No, he’d been amused. I should be frightened to be cooped up with a madman but felt at ease.

I went right up to him. “I can’t think of a good name for you, but mine’s Muireann. Shall we cry truce for now?”

He tilted his head in that way of his and I knew he was silently laughing at me. It was better than hearing him laugh out loud.

“I guess I better clean you up.” I pursed my lips and went to my task, wiping the blood I’d spilled from his shoulders and chest. He was broad and well-formed, though his muscles were broken by more than a few scars.

“I suppose you can be hurt?” I asked, dabbing timidly at the ridged flesh. His hand covered mine and drew it along, up over his chest to this throat. Under his hand and mine, the cloth wiped at the skin until the red stain was gone. He tipped his head back, showing me the new white scar running along the underside of his jaw. The cut I’d just made had healed completely. Indeed, it looked like it had been made long ago.

Not even my mother’s magic could do this. I swallowed and started to turn away.

He grabbed my wrist and gave a grunt. It sounded like “No.”

“I’m just getting more water.”

“No.” He took the cloth from my hand and maneuvered me to stand in front of the fire. I stood firm, facing him, even though my head came only to the middle of his chest.

His large hands fastened on the collar of my gown. He ripped it in half. It fell away. A pause and he ripped my under shift away too. He’d stripped my stockings and my boots when he took me. Now I was naked, with nothing to wear.

I suppose this was fair. I had tried to kill him with a hidden knife.

Despite the fire, I shivered. Now what?

The warrior stepped back, his bright gaze roaming over me, leaving warmth in its wake. The fire in his eyes burned hotter than the one in the hearth. My heartbeat tripped over itself, but I did not want to run. I wanted to stay and touch him. Explore the ridges of his muscles and scars. Bathe in his honeyed scent, let it intoxicate me.

He was wild and more brutal than my intended bridegroom. Why did I feel this way?

Gentle fingers tugged my wild hair back from my face.

My nipples furled. Did he think me ugly or fair?

Did I care?

Pushing me away from the hearth, he prowled around me. I stepped out of my dress before it’d ensnare my feet. I had nothing to wear but pelts, now. The thought didn’t bother me as much as I should.

“I’m not a witch,” I started. “I mean, not like my mother. She was the one with all the power.” The warrior paced around me again and I stiffened. My spine prickled in warning—a wolf was hunting me.

Not just hunting. He’d caught me.

“I know nothing of curses or lifting them. I would help you if I could—”

Grasping my hand, the Sea Wolf drew me to the bed. This was it then.

“I’m not a virgin either,” I blurted.

He raised a blond brow.

My arms came up to cover my naked chest, and I forced them down. “I’m old enough to do as I please.” I’d never had a great love, but I’d dabbled with the pleasures of the flesh. My mother taught me enough herblore to avoid bearing a child and even if she hadn’t, Nanny was adamant I drink her disgusting brews daily.

The Sea Wolf stepped close, crowding me backwards until the backs of my thighs hit the bed.

“That’s why I had the knife,” I told him as he took my hands and propped them on his chest. “In case my bridegroom mistreated me.”

His laugh rumbled under my palms. Dipping his head, he brushed his mouth over my mine. A wave of his scent rolled over me, pulling me under.

When he broke the kiss, my legs trembled. I leaned into him, ready for more. He positioned me on the edge of the bed and climbed behind me.

“What—” my voice stopped when he touched me. My hair. He was brushing it out with his fingers. He hit a snag, stopped to tease it out, and went on more gently.

I sat still as the Sea Wolf combed out my hair as carefully as my nursemaid.

“You can’t speak.” I settled myself. “Do you know how to break the spell?”

“You,” he grunted.

Hairs raised on my arms. “Me?”

“You.”

He nuzzled my neck. Set his teeth at my throat—my pulse leaped—but moved on. Embarrassed fire followed his lips. Wherever they touched golden flame burned.

My time with the village boys had never been like this.

I was wet and aching by the time he nuzzled my belly. The belly—choice meat to a wolf. But the Sea Wolf tonight he was more man than beast, for he didn’t rip into my body, but nosed further south. Down between my legs where my dark hair grew thick and wiry as furze bush.

He blew on the petals of my sex and I writhed. His hands shackled my legs to the bed. His tongue touched my skin.

“No,” I gasped. “You cannot.’

But this warrior would do what he would. He lapped at my sex slowly, hunting and driving my pleasure before him. A wolf stalking his prey. Golden threads ran through me, beads of light gathering into thicker strands until I was made of a bright river. I clutched the tawny head between my legs as the stars burst behind my eyes.

He climbed up over my body and bent to my mouth. I tasted myself, earth and salt, and drank in his honeyed musk, sipping him like mead until I drowned.

* * *

3

I woke in unfamiliar arms, the rock-hewn embrace of a warrior. The Sea Wolf was sleeping with his broad face buried in my hair. I wriggled around and he opened his eyes.

I caressed his lips and tasted a hint of my secret scent. I blushed and his chest rumbled.

“You’re laughing at me.” I frowned. He’d laughed when I’d slit his throat. Strange man.

“How long have you been like this? A year? Ten?”

He gazed at me.

I gulped. “A hundred?”

With a growl, he stirred from the bed, leaving me cold. Leaving a giant empty space. He returned with the horn and some meat, which he fed me from his hand.

“Why me?” I asked after I’d swallowed

He stared at me.

I slipped from the bed and began to pace. “I Saw—I don’t know what I Saw. I heard a wolf before you came. But why would you claim me?”

He sat on the bed, watching me patiently.

“I am not very powerful. I only have a few tricks. The Sight.”

He snorted.

“I am telling the truth.” I whirled on him. “I have no power! I couldn’t even keep myself from being married against my will.”

He growled.

“It didn’t happen. You stole me in time. But Dòmhnall won’t be happy. He threatened my father. You must let me go back.”

The Sea Wolf stared at me.

“I mean it. If I can break the spell, will you let me go back?” In the long silence, I shifted from foot to foot. When the warrior reached for me, I let him tug me into his arms. He nuzzled my neck, growling over the marks the rope had left. Then he brought handfuls of my hair to his mouth and nose, sniffing as if he held a bouquet. He seemed as enamored with my scent as I was with his.

“How is it you can be here in the tower?” I asked. The curse said he couldn’t step a foot on land. But here he was. Of course, this part of the keep was over the water. The long staircase “It’s not on land, is it? It’s built over the sea. That’s why you could not come up the regular way, from the beach, through the keep. You had to leap the rocks and climb up the side…” I pressed a hand to my forehead. The Sea Wolf worried a freckle on my shoulder. I was still naked, but he wore a pelt around his hips. Not that the thick fur kept me from feeling his hardness under my hip.

“This is madness,” I muttered. “I cannot believe it.” And yet my mother told me of a great warrior I would marry. I thought it a silly tale.

I had a thought and wriggled around to face him. “Am I the raven who will lead you home?”

He kissed me, his stubble scratching my chin. I gasped at the wave of heat that crested inside me.

“Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll find a way to break the curse, but then you must let me go. Promise?” I cupped his face in my small hands. “You have to let me go home.”

With a growl, the Sea Wolf pulled me into his lap, slinging a pelt around my shoulders. He glared at the doorway a few heartbeats before Hawk appeared.

“Glad to see you both alive and unbloodied.” Hawk didn’t seem to notice the Sea Wolf’s fierce glare. When Hawk came close, the Sea Wolf’s angry rumble increased.

“Stop it,” I hissed to the warrior holding me. “He’s not gonna steal me away.”

“Wolves protect their mate,” Hawk said and dropped the finest gown I’d ever seen beside me. “Thought you’d be needing this.”

“It’s beautiful.” I tugged at the strong arms holding me. The Sea Wolf reluctantly let me go long enough gather the gown.

“I can show you the beach, if you like,” Hawk said as he collected our empty dishes. He didn’t look at me, but I knew he wasn’t speaking to his leader. “Just come down when you’re ready.”

A loud growl overpowered my answer.

“Oh, come now, the lass is right. I won’t be stealing her away. But she needs fresh air and sunlight, and a chance to stretch her legs.”

And a respite from the warrior who can’t keep his hands off me. “I promise to return,” I told the Wolf, ignoring Hawk completely. The big warrior relaxed somewhat and released me. I took it as permission.

The dress fit perfectly. Being clothed calmed me.

“I’ll be back,” I promised again, and skipped down the steps. Hawk was waiting at the bottom. He escorted me past the crew who were mostly sleeping even though the sun was high.

As Hawk and I walked down the beach, a distant figure followed our progress. The Sea Wolf leapt from rock to rock, staying far enough from the shore only his bright head and white pelt marked who he was.

I picked up a pretty shell and studied it. “How long as he been like this?”

Hawk squatted near the surf. “I met him when I was a boy. He looked much the same as he does now. Fewer scars.”

“The curse doesn’t allow him to walk onshore?”

“Not if he wants to keep his humanity. Although it doesn’t seem to matter now. He loses more of himself every year.”

I pushed back my hair when the wind teased it. Out at sea, the watching figure stood tall and so still, I’d think he was a carved sentinel. “Tell me of his past. What do you know?”

“He was a great warrior. A Northman. He had this ship when I met him. Different crew. We sail with him because the pay is good. He never loses a fight.” Hawk rose and held out his hand, though I knew he didn’t want me to take it. “Come. Best be back.”

“Why me?” I asked as I fell into step beside him. The figure at sea had already disappeared. “How did he find me?”

“Don’t know. He orders us where to go. Told us to sail to that island you lived on. We saw you on the cliff before the mists came up and helped us steal you away.” Hawk grinned as if he were proud of his work, kidnapping me. I rolled my eyes.

By the time we reached the foot of the stairs, he’d sobered.

“You call to him, lass. He’s never hunted anyone like this before. I don’t know if you can break the curse but—”

I put up a hand and he fell silent. “I have to try.”

* * *

My captor wasn’t back in our tower when I returned but it was just as well. Hawk gave me more water to wash, and even provided a few herbs. After he left, I purified myself and the room. Tossed away my old gown and bloodied pelts. Built up the fire, unbound my hair.

Hawk hollered up before he entered the room. When he saw me, he whistled. “Well, now.”

I blushed. I’d prepared myself like a bride. I’d done more for my captor than I’d done for Dòmhnall. “I hope it works.”

Hawk set a full pitcher of mead and a plate of meat down where I directed. “If it helps, I’ve not heard him laugh in a long time. Not like he laughs around you.”

I snorted. “He laughed when I tried to slit his throat. Not sure if that’s a sign he’s more a man than a fool.”

“You’re the only woman who ever dared take a knife to him. Or fight him at all.”

I gnawed my lip.

“Are you afraid he won’t forgive you? He already has. I’ve never seen him look at anyone like he looks at you. And you him. You’re not as afraid of him as you pretend.” He wagged his finger at me.

“His presence, it’s potent,” I admitted. “Feels like fire, or strong mead.”

“That’s love, I expect.”

I shot Hawk a sharp look. He laughed and rapped the table before heading out. “Don’t worry, lass. If anyone’s strong enough to love a man like that, I reckon it’s you.”

* * *

Moonrise found me by the fire hearth, braiding and re-braiding my long, dark hair. The Sea Wolf hadn’t returned yet, and when he did, what would be? Man or beast?

A lonely howl cut the night and I shivered. What was the nature of this curse and how could I break it? I tried to remember how the story ended. My mother told a few versions. Sometimes the warrior wandered forever until he became a ghost, a haunting. Sometimes he found his lady love, and they lived happily together. Nanny preferred that ending and that was how she told it.

This time, the story’s end was up to me.

How do you win the love of a monster? And was Hawk right? If I won the Sea Wolf’s favor, was I strong enough to love a monster in return?

Love did not matter. I would open my legs for him tonight. Again. I thought of how well he lay between my legs last night and blushed. He certainly had skill. Maybe tonight would be no hardship.

A growl outside the window, and a scraping sound. I straightened. The Sea Wolf was coming.

The blond head and shaggy white pelt appeared first. He pulled himself through the window and when he rose, the room shrank. He was already naked. Under a pelt I’d wrapped up in for warmth, I was the same. It would save time, and I wouldn’t end up with another ripped dress.

I cleared my throat and found my voice. “Mead?” I asked.

The hulk remained in shadows, and still. Only two glowing eyes marked his presence.

“There’s meat also. I can go down and get Hawk to bring more—”

A thunderous growl crashed over me.

Don’t speak of Hawk, then. Or talk of leaving the tower.

But it was too late. The mountain came to me, hunched and sure-footed as a hunter. He moved like an animal. I forced myself not to flee. I walked slowly from the hearth to the bed, allowing him to herd me away from the door or the window. No escape. I could’ve told him I wasn’t going to run, but if I said the word run, he would pounce. The Wolf with me tonight was not a man but a wild thing.

I backed up to bed, setting my hand on his chest when he crowded me.

“Easy. I’m here. I’m yours.”

Another growl. I gasped, not in fear, but at the pleasure knifing through my loins.

The Wolf grabbed my hips and set me against him. I got a good feel of his cock. Monster indeed.

I tilted my head back, baring my throat. Allowing him to kiss me or rip my life out. The ultimate submission.

He lowered his great head, scenting up the line of my neck to my ear. He could kill me now. At least it would be quick.

“Take me then,” I whispered, not knowing whether I asked for death or pleasure. “Freely offered.”

He bit me, not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to make me gasp. A splash of shock like cold water. The mark throbbed above my pulse.

He lifted me against him, his fingers digging into my buttocks and upper thighs, and rubbed me against him, up and down. Little sparks tingled between us. I clutched his shoulders, gazing into his golden eyes. His long, thick cock, trapped between us, rubbed between my slick folds. I wrapped my legs around his waist, rocking my hips against him as he held me aloft. His muscles were iron under my hands.

He smiled when I shuddered against him. I rode the white-hot edge of orgasm, my calves tugging him closer. Before my climax was spent, he lay me down, drew apart my legs and surged between them. His cock breached my entrance, stretching me, almost too big to fit. He growled and forced himself inside, shattering my first climax and sending me higher. I writhed, half trying to impale myself, half trying to get away.

He held my hips and waited. When I calmed, he rocked back and forth slowly, each stroke going deeper. I stared down at the cock thicker than my forearm disappearing inside me.

Large hands lifted my bottom, tilting my hips, ensuring his cock dragged over a secret spot above my entrance. I clawed at his forearms, desperate for him to stop, to never stop, to break me apart. He did not slow or waver. Nor did he speed his thrusts, even when I screamed curses at him. He laughed in my face.

Climax after climax took me. Only when I relaxed backwards, limp and sated, did he bend over me, brace on one arm, and pound me into the bed. His final thrusts made me bounce. I expected him to root deep and shout his triumph, but he pulled out at the last, and spilled all over. Thick white seed covered my breasts and belly.

At least I won’t bear a child.

Looking down at the mess he made, he seemed pleased. I rolled my eyes.

With a grunt, he took my wrist and directed me to rub the pearly essence into my skin. I sighed and complied.

He strutted to the hearth to get the mead. His cock still stood out from his body, straight and proud. But he let me drink a goodly amount of mead, and wash my hands clean, though he wouldn’t let me wash my body.

I sat in his lap and played with his long, tawny locks of hair.

“You smell like the sea,” I whispered.

He grunted and palmed my breast.

I wrinkled my nose at my sticky state. “And I smell like you.”

Another grunt. This one sounded almost like “good.”

Then, with a gentle but firm grip, he guided my face between his legs.

He took me three more times, once standing by the hearth, my leg propped up in his hold. Once bent over the bed. Then with me on all fours, his length spearing me from behind. My back was covered with his seed just like my front by the time he let us simply lie together and rest.

I was glad I hadn’t been a virgin. Besides the pesky issue of blood, I wouldn’t have known how to handle such a warrior. I was still swimming beyond my depth. Lost in the Sea Wolf’s territory.

The Sea Wolf settled behind me. It was his turn to play with my hair, use it to tickle my ear. I was too tired to do more than half-smile.

The fire had almost died when he leaned close to whisper something. “Ægir.”

It took me a moment to understand. “Ægir?” I repeated the unfamiliar word.

He grunted assent.

“Your name?”

“Mmm.”

“Ægir,” I murmured. “Very well.” I rolled to my side, smiling fully when he curled around me. I’d taken his mark and his scent, and he gave me his name.

It was a start.

* * *

The morning sun spilled across Ægir’s sprawled form, turned his hair into a glowing crown. I extricated myself from his hold and tiptoed to the water bucket. I needed to wash, badly. Ægir might not appreciate me clean as much as he did when I was covered in his seed, but I preferred to be less sticky. And if he wanted to spend the morning pleasuring me and spilling his seed over me again... well, I would not protest. Much. I was stiff but not as sore as I’d imagined I would be.

A smile hovered over my lips as I bent to wash my face, but it fell away when I saw the thick mist hovering over the still liquid.

Trembling, I stretched my hand over the water. The mist parted and the island where I’d lived my whole life appeared. Fire danced in the image. The village was burning. The largest building—my father’s hall—was destroyed. The roof black and fallen in, the windows smoking. Bodies strewn about the yard, left to rot. Outside the still room, a body lay in the wreckage. Nanny’s eyes stared sightless at the sky. The only thing that moved was a raven, circling high above in silent vigil for the dead.

“No,” I gasped and dashed my hand into the water. The ripples spread but the image remained. “No!”

Ægir was at my side in an instant. I flung myself away from him, fighting when he grabbed me. “Let me go,” I shrieked. “I must go save them! It cannot happen, please—”

My cries mingled with his growls. He wrestled me to the bed where I curled, sobbing. His large hands roamed over me, searching for a wound.

“I’m not hurt. I’m not hurt!” I forced his hands down, swallowing against the knots in my throat. “It was a vision. They’re dead, all dead. Or will be.”

Dòmhnall would blame my father for losing him a bride. A fantastical story about mists and an ancient warrior would not deter him. He would have his revenge, and lay waste to the island in his mad rush to conquer.

“He’ll have the island by marriage or blood. He’ll kill them all for losing me,” I whispered.

Ægir’s eyes widened.

“You understand,” I rose and gripped his arms. “I have to go back. You have to let me go.”

He snarled.

I hung on and didn’t shy away. “If you love me, you will let me go.” I cupped his face in my hands. “Please, Ægir.”

With a roar, he pushed me down to the bed. I covered my face, willing my tears to stop. My chest was heavy with grief. I had to convince him to let me go. It was the only way.

Ægir grabbed my right leg and tugged me to the edge of the bed. He used the rope to tie my wrists and ankles. I lay spread eagled and secured, an unwilling sacrifice. He stretched over me.

“Mine,” Ægir huffed.

I glared at him.

“Mine,” he growled. His knee nudged my legs further apart. I was wet and ready, but I shouted and fought as he pushed his cock into my tender opening. His stiff rod hit secret spots inside me that had my eyes rolling back in my head. I cursed and fought my pleasure. When his head dipped to kiss me, I gritted my teeth and turned my face away.

His hand closed around my throat. A collar of flesh and bone. He squeezed with fingers and thumb, pressing two points on either side of my neck. I growled at him. My chest rose and fell like bellows, dragging air into my lungs. He squeezed tighter and the room fell away. I felt as if I were floating above the bed. Ægir’s great body worked over me, his hips snapping, cock stretching and filling me until I did not know where he ended, and I began.

He loosened his grip a tad and I slammed back into my body. Caught in the crucible of pleasure, I writhed under him. Lights flashed behind my eyes. I gasped, tossing my head back and forth as white heat filled me.

Ægir released my neck but did not let me go. I was still tied up, but he further shackled my wrists in his iron hard hands and trapped my legs under his, using his body as a living cage. All the while his cock battered me in the best, most delicious way. My insides tightened, fluttering around the giant intruder.

“Ægir,” I moaned. I wasn’t fighting my pleasure anymore. My hips rose and fell under his.

He ripped the ropes away, snapping them where they secured me to the bed. I surged up, gripping handfuls of his hair to bring his face close to mine. But I didn’t kiss him. At the last, I turned my head to the side, caught the edge of his neck with my teeth and tore. Ægir bellowed and rooted deep in my body, spending his seed deep inside me with jerking thrusts.

“Mine,” I whispered. The taste of blood tingled on my tongue. I’d marked him as he’d marked me.

The air between us tingled, magic so thick I couldn’t draw breath. A heart beat later, it was gone. I licked the Sea Wolf’s blood from my lips and hungered for more. In some ways I was as wild as he.

He pulled away, running a hand over his face. I whimpered at the loss, but when I reached for him, he drew away further still. He tugged the ropes from around my wrists and ankles, freeing me. His head was bowed.

Rising up, I caught his face in my hands and brought his mouth to mine. I kissed him with everything I had.

When our lips broke apart, his chest heaved against mine.

I looked into his bright eyes. “I am yours. I do not want to leave. But I must stop Dòmhnall. He will listen to me.”

“No,” the beast roared until my ears rang. He kissed me again, his lips frantic and feral. The wild part of him knew he was losing his prey.

A tear rolled down my cheek unchecked. His eyes were so sad. “I must. I’m the only one who can save them.”

He wrenched away from me, leaving me cold and naked on the bed. I clutched a pelt to my chest, wincing when he kicked the water bucket down the stairs. He leaned against the hearth, every muscle in him tight as if ready to do battle.

“You can’t keep me here forever,” I told his back.

Ægir punched the stone again and again. I cowered as the tower shook. A crack formed in the wall. A few rushes rained down. Shouts from downstairs told me the other warriors had felt the foundations shift.

“What is it?” Hawk called from the stairs. “What’s wrong?”

I slipped off the bed, setting my feet to the floor gingerly. This tower might not stand much longer.

“Go,” Ægir muttered, facing the dead fire.

I sucked in a breath. I did not expect his permission to feel like a dagger driven into my heart.

I’m sorry. I swallowed the bitter words. I had to go.

I rushed to the window and climbed onto the ledge. I must use my magic now. If I did not hurry, I’d be too late.

A crash made me grab the side of the window lest my feet slip. Hawk stood in the doorway, the pitcher he’d dropped in pieces at his feet.

“Lass, what are you doing? Come down from there.” He raised his hands slowly, as if a sudden movement might make me fall.

“Go!” Ægir roared.

For a heartbeat, I balanced on the windowsill clinging to the jagged, rain-slicked rocks. The wind whipped my hair and raised goosebumps over my bare flesh. A single step—

“No,” Hawk cried.

I spread my arms and dove into the air.

The air hit my face, driving my hair back. In the next heartbeat, the Change came over my body. The magic tingled over my body, gripping and stretching me like I was the dough Nanny kneaded for bread. Half of me tore away but there was no pain, only a glorious rush, my body becoming light and small as a bird’s. My hands outstretched, fingers growing long and turning to black feathers. The water surface rose to smack me, but my wings caught the wind.

With a harsh cry, I flipped in the air, and settled into an air current. I spared a glance behind me.

Hawk stood at the window disbelief written on his face. I cawed once and winged away.

Ahead rose the two rock columns. Beyond them, the mist. I’d have to trust my senses to guide me from this magical haven. You can do it, daughter, my mother whispered.

Behind me rose a wild, keening cry. The sound spurred me on, through the portal and beyond. Ignoring the Sea Wolf’s song of sorrow, I flew in my raven-shape towards home.

4

The mist was thick on the water, but no storm raged. My mother’s voice called to me when the way was unclear. I did not know how long I flew, but by the time the mist broke I was half fainting from hunger. My bird wings struggled to catch the air. A gentle gust, a warm current from the south, guided me the rest of the way. I cawed with relief when the island appeared.

There were men on the beach—my father and some villagers, the ones I’d seen dead in my vision. Warriors in boats were rowing towards them but were still some ways out. Dòmhnall had come to destroy my father. The punishment for the disgrace of losing his bride.

But I hadn’t come too late to stop the destruction.

The wind brought me to the cliff. A small figure waved me in.

When my clawed feet touched the ground, I transformed and rolled, my clumsy human body ungainly and unbalanced.

“Muireann!” Nanny hustled forward, drawing her cloak off and wrapping it around.

“Nanny,” I croaked. My throat still thought it was a beak.

“I prayed you would stay away.”

“No. I must stop them.” I started down the path.

She grabbed my arm. “Wait! Your father goes to meet them.”

“And he and his men will die. I saw it.” I tugged her along. “I must go and explain to Dòmhnall.” Perhaps he would listen. Perhaps he would understand.

Perhaps he would let me go.

“Wait, Muireann, what happened? Where have you been?”

I halted. “Did Danny return?”

“He did, raving mad, telling tales about some monster in the mist and a Northman’s ship—”

“It’s true, Nanny. It’s all true. A Northman captured me. But I am fine.” I gripped Nanny’s shoulders, smiling to calm her fears. “He was kind to me. He is the Sea Wolf from the story. The one who was cursed.” The memory of his golden eyes, gentle and sad, filled me with longing and I choked.

Nanny saw what I could not say. “Oh Muireann.”

“I did not want to leave him. It was only two nights but,” I gulped down tears. “I would’ve stayed forever.”

“So, your mother’s tale turned true.” Nanny patted my hair. “Do you think—”

Shouts rose from the beach. Dòmhnall’s boat must have landed. My time was up.

“I have to go.” Clutching the cloak, I bounded barefoot down the path.

I dashed down the path, but the boats beat me to the beach.

“Lord Dòmhnall,” my father greeted the son of the Uí Néill chieftain. My father wore no weapon or helm, though his men were armed. Danny stood nearby, twisting the edge of his tunic, staring at the many boats. Too many boats to broker peace. This was a show of force.

Dòmhnall swaggered up the sand, hand on his sword. “What is this? You stand proudly to greet me? You, who sent a message that my men were lost, and my bride had flown?” He stretched his arms out, smirking, though his men were hard-eyed and hatchet-faced. “What story have you come up with now? Were my men swallowed by a sea monster? Is my bride a selkie?”

“None of those things, my lord.” My father leaned on his staff. “We have the man who saw it all. He can tell the truth—”

“Don’t give me false tales, old man.” Anger swallowed Dòmhnall’s smile. His men shifted around him; their weapons ready. “You were told to send my bride. Whether by plan or by folly, you lost her.” He drew his blade and pointed it at my father’s head. “I’ll take your life as forfeit. This island is mine.”

“Wait!” I screeched. My father’s men turned to gawk. I raced the final few feet, stopping between the outstretched sword and my father.

“Muireann? What on earth?” My father grabbed me.

“It wasn’t his fault,” I told my red-faced would-be bridegroom. “It was all true. A warrior came and took me—” Dòmhnall’s eyes swept up and down my form and I tightened my hold on the cloak covering me. “But I escaped.” I turned my back to Dòmhnall. “I’m here now, father. All will be well.”

The men murmured around us. My father’s face was tight, but he pulled off his own cloak and bundled me in a second layer.

“So, your daughter is here,” Dòmhnall’s voice rose over the muttering. “Naked, half-crazed. Do you let her run about as she pleases?”

“Muireann has always done as she pleases.” Father knew a little of my magic. He would say no more in front of strangers. But he tugged me behind him.

“I’m not crazy. I’ve been a captive of the Sea Wolf. A great warrior from legend. He took me, but he let me go.”

Dòmhnall scoffed. “Why should I believe you?”

“Danny can vouch for me.” I waved at the stunned boatman.

“Indeed, I can.” Danny stepped forward. “A great warrior he was. His ship came out of the mists. Your men fought but he threw them in the water. And then he took her.”

I smiled encouragingly at Danny. Poor man. He was a steady, stoic sort. This magical tale would not be easy for him to tell.

My father’s men knew Danny and believed him. Me, they knew my mother had powers beyond the norm. They’d grant me a magical adventure.

But Dòmhnall’s men were shaking their heads, glowering harder to a man.

“This is the same pack of lies your messenger told,” Dòmhnall sneered at my father.

“Not lies,” I answered for myself.

Dòmhnall turned his sneer to me. “They told me you were taken but here I find you whole. Did you whore yourself to him?”

I drew myself up. “You insult me, Dòmhnall. I owe you nothing. Go home.”

“I don’t know what happened here, but I can see the results. My chosen bride is a whore. And you concoct fantastical tales to protect her nonexistent virtue.”

“Take care, Dòmhnall,” my father finally spoke up.

“You let her lie with any man… tell me why I shouldn’t put all of you to the sword and take this island by force?”

He advanced, blade high.

“Stop!” I flung myself between them to save my father. Most men would hesitate to strike down a woman. But Dòmhnall grabbed my arm and flung me to the sand.

“Muireann!” my father cried. Dòmhnall’s men barred his way to me.

“Whore,” Dòmhnall spat, standing over me. “To think I once wanted you. In my father’s house, we mark women like you, so men will know to be wary of your snares.” The blade flashed down and I cried out, scrambling backwards.

A roar blasted over the water.

Dòmhnall’s sword stopped. “What was that?” His wide eyes searched the sea. But there was nothing. Dòmhnall’s men turned as one, their weapons high. A fog covered the horizon, advancing quickly. The roar sounded again.

“No,” I breathed. The mist curled up onto the beach, covering me where I lay, obscuring the legs of the assembled men.

“Not again,” Danny moaned, backing away from the surf.

“What was that sound?” Dòmhnall demanded. “What is this strange weather?” He and his men turned this way and that, weapons high as if the metal could beat back the mists. They stood waist deep in it now.

“The Sea Wolf,” I answered, a mix of joy and horror welling in my heart. “He’s come for me.” Again.

Another roar and a wolf’s howl.

Dòmhnall’s men were clamoring, standing in their boats, waving their weapons at a threat they could not see.

The great Viking ship appeared, plowing through the grey. Gasps echoed all around. Judging from the fear written on the older men’s faces, the dragon head still struck terror into men’s hearts.

“It’s not possible,” my father breathed. “It’s not real.”

With a heart-stopping thud, the ship struck Dòmhnall’s boats, sending men flying into the surf.

“Real enough,” I murmured.

Dòmhnall’s men on the beach waded to help their brothers out of the water. But it was too late for the men by the boats. One by one they cried out as a dark shape attacked them. One by one, they disappeared before their comrade’s eyes. The mists swallowed the bodies up.

The remaining men retreated to land, their eyes darting this way and that.

“What are you waiting for?” Dòmhnall screamed. “Shoot him!”

A few of his men dropped their swords and drew bows. A twang and arrows flew into the wall of grey. I held my breath. One heartbeat. Two.

The small boats drifted out of the fog. They held Dòmhnall’s men, dead, pin cushioned with arrows.

Dòmhnall’s remaining men cried out.

“The Sea Wolf did this!” I shouted. “He is real. Throw down your arms now, and pledge peace, and your life will be spared.” I would plead with Ægir to make it so. No more needed to die today.

But Dòmhnall spat into the sand.

“If he is real, he can die,” Dòmhnall snarled. “Come then, Sea Wolf,” he called. “Face me like a man.”

“No!” I cried, whirling towards the mist. Willing Ægir not to hear Dòmhnall’s challenge.

Dòmhnall pulled me to him, a rough hand at my neck.

“Is this your whore?” Dòmhnall shouted to the ship. “Is this who you want?”

I fought, scratching and trying to bite, wishing I had my knife.

“Let her go,” came my father’s frail cry.

Dòmhnall dragged me into the surf. “She’s already naked,” he taunted. Batting away my hands, he gripped my right breast hard enough to bruise. I screamed my outrage.

The mists parted and the sun shone down on the great tawny head. Golden eyes glowed and Dòmhnall shrank back. I shimmied out of his grasp but did not flee. I raced to the edge of the water.

“Stop! Stay back!” I raised my hands, palms outstretched. “Remember the curse!”

But Ægir kept coming.

“No,” I cried. “You can’t!”

“She’s afraid for you.” Dòmhnall taunted. “She knows I am a great warrior.”

“Don’t do it,” I pleaded, willing the golden eyes to rest on me. “Don’t come. He doesn’t matter.” If Ægir set foot on land, the curse would win.

Ægir pointed at me. “Mine.” A promise.

“Come take her then,” Dòmhnall waved his sword.

“No!” I would’ve hurled myself between them, but Danny grabbed me and pulled me back.

“Take her to the lodge,” my father shouted to Danny.

“Come, my lady. Please,” Danny wrestled with me.

“He cannot come onto land! The curse will take him forever!” I fought my father’s man.

Dòmhnall rushed to meet Ægir. Their weapons met with a clang.

It was too late. Ægir had come onto land. Already the magic was working, the curse taking hold. Ægir’s proud and handsome features contorted. His jaw and ears grew longer, his teeth thickening into fangs. The white pelt he wore over his shoulders seemed to creep down his chest. His legs grew longer and white-furred.

Dòmhnall fell back, driven to the ground by Ægir’s savage blows. But as the curse rolled over the great warrior’s body, his hands transformed to claws and his weapon fell to the sand.

Pointing his wolf’s head at the sky, Ægir howled. I sagged in Danny’s hold.

“Take her away,” my father ordered as his own men urged him flee. Danny dragged me up the beach. Nanny rushed forward and I fell into her arms.

“Come away, Muireann.” Her face held fear.

“I can’t leave him!”

“He’s gone now.” Sure enough, the Sea wolf was no longer a man, but a beast with white and golden fur.

Dòmhnall’s men closed around Ægir, their blades biting and baiting him. Attacked from behind, Ægir roared and swiped a great claw.

More men rushed up the surf, their breeches dark with the water. Ægir’s men, led by Hawk. It wasn’t even a fair fight. Dòmhnall’s men turned and died. I saw Hawk’s white teeth flash, him laughing as he cleaved a man’s head from his neck.

Without his men to help, Dòmhnall had no hope. He raised his weapon and the Sea Wolf thrust foot-long claws into his chest, lifting his body and tossing him with a thick spray of red. Deprived of more prey, the monster bellowed.

My father’s men had retreated. With frightened shouts, they barricaded themselves in the lodge as the Sea Wolf rushed towards them.

“No,” I cried, stumbling and almost falling. Only Nanny’s firm grip, tugging me forward, kept me upright.

I realized she was pulling me up the cliff.

“You cannot help him now.”

“He’s a monster. The curse will never let him go.” The wind snatched at my hair and numbed my face.

“And he’ll lay waste to your father’s land. The lodge will not hold him back, no matter what your father thinks.”

My breath was a rock in my throat. The vision I’d had would come true. The lodge roof on fire. The men and women’s bodies strewn around. Dòmhnall was dead, he would not lay waste to the island. But Ægir, mad with the curse, would.

“There’s no time,” Nanny shouted over the wind. Her hands peeled away the layers of cloaks around me. I shivered, naked in the cold air.

“He loves you?”

I nodded.

Nanny turned me to the cliff’s edge and gave me a little push. “Then fly.”

I tottered on the grassy ledge. “But—”

“You can do it child. You’re the raven. Lead him home.”

And I knew what I must do.

Below on the beach, Ægir’s men finished off the last of Dòmhnall’s and watched their leader seek new prey.

The Sea Wolf climbed on the roof of the lodge and tore into the rushes. A few more heartbeats and he’d break through, and lay waste to the frightened people huddled below. My people. My family.

No time to lose.

I stepped up to the cliff edge. My toes curled. Far below, the sea crashed into the rocks.

“Do it, Muireann. Fly!” Nanny called. “Fly away girl, with the magic your mother gave you.”

I spread my arms and leapt into the air. The world tilted. The Change came over me between one breath and the next. The wind caught my wings before I hit the water, and I soared upwards in a warm draft. I was light and free, no longer hungry or sick or tired. Magic indeed.

I flew over the beach. Hawk’s teeth flashed and he gave a wave. I cawed a hello and flapped to gain height.

The monster on the lodge roof paused in the act of ripping the thatch bundles apart. I let loose a stream of scolding cries. The wind tugged my tail feathers and I turned and flew back over the beach. Straight over the water.

That’s it, daughter, my mother’s voice whispered. That’s the way.

Behind me, the monster bounded to the ground. His men scrambled out of the way, but the monster ignored them and the heaps of dead bodies. He waded right into the water, roaring as if he wanted me to wait. I floated on an updraft. Would he sink? Or swim?

The Sea Wolf reached the depths and sank into the waves for one horrible heartbeat. Then his head broke the surface, his furry arms and legs churning the water.

I cawed and pointed my beak into the mist. The small shadow of a bird coasted over the water, leading the white-furred creature toward the open sea. I could only hope the magic gave him enough strength and stamina to follow me where I flew. I did not know how long we would journey. I did not even know the way.

Mother, guide me, I prayed. And bravely, stupidly, flapped into the grey.

For a moment my senses scrambled. Up was down and down was up. I forgot to flap my wings and tumbled closer to the water. Animal instincts took over and I regained the height, cawing to scold myself. I must trust myself, and the raven. Below, the white-furred beast swam doggedly on. He would follow me to the ends of the earth and beyond. I must figure out where to go.

Ahead, made of mist and light, a figure detached itself from a cloud and flew ahead of me in the shape of a raven. I stretched and strained my wings to follow. We flew through the fog, the spirit raven leaving a trail of light for me to follow.

It took longer than it should’ve for me to realize where the light raven led me. Nanny had hinted about the secret haven across the water, the home my mother built. Nanny had wanted me to fly there and hide from Dòmhnall. Nanny knew my mother hadn’t kept it for her own solitude. My mother had kept it for me. And the story they both told was one I needed to hear.

As a raven flies true, you’ll always find your way home.

It was destiny then. His and mine.

* * *

5

I did not know how long I flew, leading the Sea Wolf home. He swam with boundless energy and I found new strength in knowing the curse wouldn’t kill him before I could bring him home.

At last the mists broke. The raven of light cawed and soared away, becoming one with the sun sparkling on the calm waters. A green land stretched before me; one I’d never seen. No houses nor people, only a few white dots that might be sheep grazing on their lonely pastures. But on the edge of the water, at the end of a long line of rocks, stood a little hut. The one my mother built. The one Nanny spoke of.

Home.

The Sea Wolf was another, larger, white dot in the great sea. I waited until I was sure he knew where I was headed and used the favorable wind to outdistance him. I had to hurry if I wanted to arrive first and make ready.

The moment my claws touched land, I transformed. I sprawled, a naked, wild haired woman, on the little hut’s doorstep. Teeth chattering from the Change, I pushed open the sturdy door. It swung open easily before me in welcome. I said a prayer of thanks to my mother and hurried inside.

The hut wasn’t too big, but it wasn’t too small. Ægir would fit through the door. He wouldn’t be able to stand anywhere but the apex of the roof, but he could sit by the hearth. Or lie on the bed…

I pressed cold hands to flaming cheeks. The air was unseasonably warm, but I was chilled from my flight. There was a neat stack of driftwood beside the hearth. I peered up the stone chimney to be sure there were no nests in it, and saw a simple grate at the top, cunningly keeping any creatures out.

The tinder was dry, too. No mold had taken hold within the stone walls. The place wasn’t even too dusty. The shelves on the walls were mostly empty, but other than a few spiderwebs, they were clean. There was a cedar box under the bed, and I found a few of my mother’s work dresses. The bed held woolen blankets, uneaten by any moths.

My mother knew how to keep a household. The door kept out any curious sheep and here and there were packets of mint to deter mice.

I tossed a bundle of herbs on the fire as I’d watched Nanny do and said a word of thanks. For one heartbeat, my skin prickled with a rush of magic, but then it was gone, and the hut was a normal, if strangely tidy for being so long out of use, place.

Home.

I bundled up in a blanket, grabbed some fishing line off the shelf, and went to catch some dinner.

The wind nipped my skin, but I didn’t see the use in wearing one of the dresses. Not until I could be sure a certain warrior wouldn’t tear them with clumsy claws. Besides, he’d be naked too, unless the magic gave him some clothes.

A long strip of rocks stretched from the hut’s doorstep out to sea. I clambered over the dark, wet shape until I came to the end of the spit. There I cast out my fishing line and tried not to stare too often at the horizon. I lost my fight and ended up climbing the tallest stone where I shaded my eyes and waited for a white-furred shape to appear.

It was a long, lonely watch. I’d caught three fish and strung them up before a figure broke the serene line where sea met sky. The Sea Wolf had done it. He was almost home.

I whispered the name that beat in my heart. Ægir. The sound must have carried, for the warrior seemed to swim faster. As he came closer, I saw he was no longer a white-furred monster but a man with a tawny head and tanned arms. The white pelt clinging to his shoulders was just that—a pelt, not part of his body.

When he finally reached the end of the rocky spit, I was waiting.

“Come, my love,” I called and reached out my hand. He hesitated before climbing up the rocks to where I stood, well out of the water. I tugged his fingers and he took his first steps on land as a man, his legs as shaky as a babe’s.

When he was on solid ground, he sank to his knees and put his wet head against my belly.

“It’s all right,” I laughed and tugged the blanket around us both. “I’ll teach you to walk. I’ll teach you to live as a man again.”

“M-m-m…”

I put two fingers against his lips. “Muireann. ‘Tis a strange name for Northman to say. I’ll teach you how to speak it, too.”

I started to turn away, wanting to get him inside. But he pulled me back and kissed me. His lips burned on mine, transferring the taste of salt, of water, of need. My skin tingled and my feet left the ground. The Sea Wolf had picked me up, lips still locked on mine. He drank of me and I him, inhaling the scent of each other in great gulps. Finally, I pulled away, laughing as he kissed down the column of my throat, his stubble tickling me. I threaded my fingers in his wet hair and drew him up. His eyes flared with an unearthly light, then the glow died, leaving them more ordinary, if tawny brown with hints of gold was ordinary.

“Muireann,” he whispered as if my kiss had reminded him how to speak. If that was true, we would have to spend more time kissing.

“Welcome, Ægir. The sea’s your home no longer.”

He started walking, ignoring my request for him to put me down. He carried me all the way to the hut. Sure enough, he had to duck to get through the door. Once inside, surprise flashed over his features.

“It was my mother’s,” I explained, pulling out of his hold. He let me go and I stepped back and held the blanket around me, suddenly shy. “She built it and kept it for me. For us.” I turned to flash him a smile, but he looked so sober my mirth died.

Clearing my throat, I hustled to tend the fire. “There’s enough wood for the night, but we’ll have to find more tomorrow. Nothing but fish for food, until we can slaughter a sheep.”

Ægir knelt by the hearth, and I whirled away, my hands fluttering like little birds. “I best go get the fish then—”

With a grunt, he stalked outside. The door slammed behind him. I sank onto the bed, wondering why this was so hard. Did he not want me? Was I not the one he would’ve chosen? The curse chose for us, I reflected as I left the hut to find water. My mother was smart enough to find a source of water before building a haven.

Sure enough, I found a stream of sweet water and a bucket besides. The door scraped when I opened it and Ægir whirled as if to stab an intruder. I gasped and dropped the bucket.

“You frightened me.” We weren’t used to each other yet. He stood awkwardly by as I trotted forward to set the bucket by the fire. He was fully naked now and the pelt was stretched out by the fire to dry.

“Came back and you were gone,” he rumbled, the longest sentence I’d ever heard from him. He was more man and less beast with each passing heartbeat. No need for kissing then, I thought dispiritedly, though my heart thumped as Ægir loomed over me. “Wondered if you were a dream.”

I licked my lips. His face seemed leaner, his beard longer, as if the long swim and lifting the curse had aged him an extra day. “Not a dream.”

He was still so large he filled the room. He stooped a little to stand closer by me. He can’t be comfortable. Would my mother had built the ceiling a little taller. Or perhaps I was meant to get my great warrior immediately to lie down in bed.

I flushed head to toe.

Ægir tilted his head, studying me as he had so often in the tower. His hand hovered over my neck and I started babbling. “There’s a stream behind here. It’s what the sheep use. I don’t know how far back this land goes, whether it’s an island or part of the mainland. I expect it is cut off somehow from civilization. My mother—” He lifted a curl of my hair and my gushing words stopped.

“So fine,” he murmured. “Feathers.”

“Yes.

“Muireann,” he asked, halting, “do you want me?”

“I led you here, didn’t I? Why else would I try to break the curse?”

He smoothed down my hair, a useless gesture. My hair was completely untamable after a flight. “Pity.”

I drew myself up. “It’s not pity I feel for you, warrior. You saved me from Dòmhnall. Twice.”

He shrugged. “Fly away.”

“If I had flown away, Dòmhnall would’ve taken the island by force. I had to go back. When you came, you saved them all. How did you find me?”

“Sweet.” He pressed a handful of my hair to his face, inhaling as if his life depended on it. Perhaps it did.

“You smell sweet, too,” I whispered, pressing closer. “You’re still the Sea Wolf. A warrior who takes what he pleases. Or am I not what you want?”

He pounced then, a flash of gold in his eyes. “Mine,” he growled against my neck.

I laughed. This was better. “You must claim me then,” I whispered, twining my arms around his neck as he carried me to the bed. We were both naked still—my days in the tower made me used to it, and now there was no reason to wear clothes—but this was different. The air between our bodies was heated, charged. We came together, bodies shuddering as if we needed to be near. As if without his hard, ridged flesh against me, I would die.

He stretched me out below him, planting my arms above my head, growling when I would move them and pinning them with a hand. I squirmed as he stroked me with his free hand, starting with my cheeks and nose, collaring my neck and caressing every part of my chest, carefully circling my breasts. I arched my back and thrust my breasts forward. He chuckled.

“Ægir, touch me. It’s not fair.”

“Mine,” he answered.

I whined and twisted in his grip. He draped his weight over my legs, dropping his hips until his cock brushed my tender folds. He stroked over me this way, a small smirk lurking around his mouth and a heated look in his eye. Pinned and covered by his great bulk, I could not hope to escape. I did my best, fighting to get away from the inexorable movement of his cock stroking me, sometimes rubbing the exact greedy spot I needed him to rub, sometimes not. It drove me mad.

“Fuck me,” I snapped, baring my teeth at him. He chuckled in my face. He always liked when I turned wild. I twisted this way and that, only succeeding in rubbing my aching nub against him just the right way. Tinder caught, lightning struck, and I convulsed in the grip of pleasure.

“Ægir,” I moaned. “Please. I need you.”

He lifted my legs, tossing them over his shoulders. Bending forward he folded me almost in half. The head of his cock probed my entrance and I stiffened. He was so big. How did he ever fit? He worked himself in slowly, and another wave of pleasure rolled up from my toes, half blinding me. I relaxed and he slid in. My channel burned as it stretched around the giant invader. My moans were wordless now, increasing as Ægir’s cock settled deep inside me. His grip on my calves was cruel, his cock utterly dominating my body and senses, but his eyes were gentle.

“Mine,” he murmured. “Mine.”

And then he thrust hard, bottoming out, filling the deepest part of me. My limbs froze, my back arching as pleasure burned up my spine. Our lovemaking felt like the Change, a giant hand shaping and stretching me, making me anew. Only it was not magic. It was Ægir.

I survived his brutal thrusts, pleasure sizzling and singing in each vein. I did not know when my climax began or ended.

He pulled out and knelt beside the bed, dropping his face between my legs.

Dazed, I craned my neck, but all I could see was the top of his head. “What are you—”

His mouth covered my cunny and I cried out. His tongue lapped at my secret places, long, smooth strokes that drove my pleasure higher.

But then he pressed fingers against my arsehole. The area between my bottom cheeks was slick from my wet cunt.

“No,” I warned.

His teeth glinted when he smiled, two long incisors glinting like fangs. His thick finger probed my bottom.

“Mine,” he said. I writhed, trying to get away. He jerked me back, his fingers biting into my thigh. His shoulder leaned against my leg, pinning and pressing me into the bed.

“No,” I fought in vain. My climax was building again despite the finger invading my arse. Or perhaps because of it.

His tongue sought my folds again and soon I screamed my pleasure to the ceiling. Ægir nipped at my inner thighs, rubbing his stubbled face on the sensitive skin. A second finger pushed into my arse. His thumb dipped into my cunny and he rubbed the thin membrane that separated his thumb and fingers. My climax went on and on. Still holding me pinched between thumb and forefinger, he sucked on my clit and I spiraled higher. My heels drummed his broad shoulders.

Then he spread my juices over my stretched bottom hole.

“No,” I mumbled, too overcome to push him away. He set his cock at my anus and growled, making me shudder. I could only lie there, limp from many climaxes, as he breached my tiny back hole. Somehow the tight rings stretched around him. One inch. Another.

“Muireann,” he murmured. “Muireann.”

I sighed and let him in. No one had claimed me there before, and no other ever would. My body, my heart, my whole self, belonged to no one but him.

For a heartbeat he rested, seated balls deep inside me. His fingers found my slippery clit and I groaned. I did not want to climax again. Especially not with him inside me like this, claiming me in the basest possible way. He would possess me utterly.

But I could hold nothing of myself back from him. Like a true wolf, he was a patient hunter, touching my folds, teasing the tender flesh until I rocked unwillingly against him. Milking his cock despite myself. When my climax finally came it was gentle but long, rolling waves that rippled my belly. Ægir watched in fascination, groaning as I grew impossibly tight around him. If I could, I’d push him out. My hands did push at his chest until he reared over me and pinned my wrists to the bed. Then he started to stroke. Sweat beaded on my forehead and his. He was holding back.

“Take me,” I challenged. “Make me yours.”

His groan rumbled through me. He snapped his hips and impaled me, filling me completely. The harsh thrusts continued until I feared I’d break in two. My body held together another heartbeat and then another orgasm shattered it. My eyes rolled back into my head, my tongue babbling an unknown language.

Ægir released my arms and grasped my hips, slamming into me hard enough to make me bounce. His lips drew back and he was a feral creature once more, teeth bared in a snarl.

With several rough pumps, he filled my back channel with his seed. I was completely filled with his issue. Sloppy with it. I supposed I should be glad I was not covered in it.

Perhaps next time.

Ægir rose and went to the bucket where he washed himself. He returned and washed me. His cock still jutted from his body, hard and ready.

But he draped himself over me, kissing my forehead, my lips, the soft place between my breasts. Then he lay on his side, his huge body dwarfing mine, and pulled me close, my back to his chest.

“Do you mind staying here?” I asked drowsily. I could sleep and would soon. But first I wanted to enjoy this moment, lying in my man’s arms.

“Do you?”

“There’s nothing to eat but fish and sheep.” I yawned. “Your men—will they get on with their lives without you.”

“No.” Ægir teased a lock of my hair, fanning it out on my shoulder. “Told them to stay. Guard.”

My eyes popped open. “I hadn’t thought of that. But it’d be best if Hawk and the rest stayed for a while. Do you think they’ll mind?”

“No.”

“We should visit Nanny someday. Not for a while. I imagine she’ll be busy fussing over a new band of warriors.”

“Father... angry?”

I smiled and shook my head. “My father wouldn’t have chosen you as a bridegroom.” An image of the monster on the roof filled my mind and I shivered. I’d saved the Sea Wolf as much as he’d saved my people. “But I expect his opinion will change. You did save us from Dòmhnall’s men. And now if the Uí Néill come to avenge their fallen son, well, your men can enjoy another fight.” The island wouldn’t be so easy to conquer now. There’d be no threat to my father while the Sea Wolf’s warriors guarded the island.

I settled deeper into Ægir’s arms, perfectly content. “I don’t know the moment I knew I didn’t want to live without you. Probably when you claimed me for the first time. I didn’t realize it at the time. Not until now. But since then, it’s been you, Ægir, and no other.”

His hand splayed over my belly. “Good.”

“My mother told me stories of you. She readied this cottage. I guess she knew you’d need it one day. And I would be the raven to guide you home.”

“No,” Ægir grunted. I rolled to my back and he splayed his hand between my breasts. His eyes burned with a hint of gold. “You.”

“Me?” I wrinkled my brow. “What do you mean?”

“You. Home.”

A golden warmth bloomed inside my heart and spread through my limbs. “And you also, my love. You are my home.”

* * *

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The Berserker Saga

Sold to the Berserkers - – Brenna, Samuel & Daegan

Mated to the Berserkers - – Brenna, Samuel & Daegan

Bred by the Berserkers (FREE novella only available at www.leesavino.com) - – Brenna, Samuel & Daegan

Taken by the Berserkers – Sabine, Ragnvald & Maddox

Given to the Berserkers – Muriel and her mates

Claimed by the Berserkers – Fleur and her mates

Berserker Brides

Rescued by the Berserker – Hazel & Knut

Captured by the Berserkers – Willow, Leif & Brokk

Kidnapped by the Berserkers – Sage, Thorbjorn & Rolf

Bonded to the Berserkers  – Laurel, Haakon & Ulf

Berserker Babies – the sisters Brenna, Sabine, Muriel, Fleur and their mates

Night of the Berserkers – the witch Yseult’s story

Owned by the Berserkers – Fern, Dagg & Svein

Tamed by the Berserkers — Sorrel, Thorsteinn & Vik

Berserker Warriors

Ægir (formerly published as The Sea Wolf in a pirate boxset)

Siebold - coming soon!

Also by Lee Savino

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Beauty’s Beast: a dark romance with Stasia Black

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Draekons (Dragons in Exile) with Lili Zander (menage alien dragons)

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About the Author

Lee Savino is a USA today bestselling author of smexy romance. Smexy, as in “smart and sexy.” Find her in the Goddess Group on facebook and download a free book at www.leesavino.com!

If you want more menage, check out the Draekon series. If you want more sexy (spanko) werewolves, check out my Alpha series. Lee has more books but those two series should hold you for awhile. ;)

Find her at:

www.leesavino.com

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