Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 86(@200wpm)___ 69(@250wpm)___ 58(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 86(@200wpm)___ 69(@250wpm)___ 58(@300wpm)
I opened my mouth to respond, but heard rustling in the forest across the way. I had my hand by my side, on the dagger my father had given me, had helped me train with. I kept my younger sister close to my side, but she, too, had a dagger in hand. Our father had wanted us to know how to protect ourselves. I still had a lot more to learn, and maybe I wouldn’t be the victor in a fight, but I’d make sure I did some damage before I was taken.
For a moment we didn’t see anything, but then a man emerged from behind the trees. He was large, the biggest male I’d ever seen, with dark hair cut close to his head, and clear blue eyes that seemed wild. He had a large ax strapped to his side and a sword on his back. He wore animal hides covering his broad shoulders, and dirt covered his face.
I knew who he was instantly, and my body reacted as such.
Calder the Feral.
A berserker.
A wanderer.
He was gone more than he was here, the son of a Viking warrior and the Shield Maiden. He watched my sister and me as he moved along the water’s edge, his focus wise and intent.
His gaze locked right on mine.
We didn’t move as we continued to stare at him, and he continued to walk past us and toward the village. It was only when he was out of sight that I let a breath leave my lungs and finally looked at my sister.
“Calder,” she whispered, awe and a little apprehension clear in her voice.
“Yes, Calder the Feral.” I whispered, too. But mine wasn’t filled with fear or uncertainty.
Mine was filled with desire.
Because the only man I’d ever wanted, the only Viking who had ever affected me without saying even a word to me, was the berserker.
For years I’d kept these feelings to myself, too afraid to whisper them aloud, too shy to even think them when I wasn’t alone.
And there was only one thing I wanted, one thing I craved so much it kept me up at night.
To be Calder’s in every way possible.
Chapter Two
Calder
I watched her from across the great room, villagers and Vikings gathered in celebration of the upcoming raid in the spring. The king and queen sat on their thrones, horns filled with mead in their hands, laughter and conversation ringing throughout the room.
I didn’t belong here.
I was wild, free.
I was a wanderer, a berserker.
Calder the Feral was what they called me. And it was the truth.
I lived my life on the road, yet I found myself coming back to the small village of Stropa for one reason.
Her.
Greta Leifsdotter.
I took a hearty drink from my curved horn mug, the mead sweet from the honey, the alcohol making my desire for her even more intense. The crowd in the great hall was thick, and she disappeared behind the bodies before reappearing and making my heart beat harder.
My entire body was tense, my muscles contracting. What I wanted to do was go up to her, gently tug on the back of her hair so her head tilted back and claim her mouth. I wanted to do a lot more than that.
I wanted to lay her on a bed of thick furs, push her thighs apart, and lick the sweetness from between her legs.
I groaned, the noise too low for anyone to hear. My cock was rock hard, my leathers feeling tight as my shaft pressed against the hide.
Lowering my head slightly but keeping my focus on Greta, I tightened my hold on the horn, the wild side of me—where I’d gotten my namesake—rising up.
She was barely of age, but still untaken, still without children. She was untouched, and the barbaric side of me wanted to change that, wanted to mark her, fill her up. I wanted to make her mine. It was insane that for the past two years I purposely came to Stropa for the sole purpose of seeing Greta.
Yet I said nothing to her, kept my distance, and just watched.
Those two years she stayed alone, living with her family, her father turning down marriage offers.
But having a female wasn’t in the stars for me. The gods had chosen me to wander this world, giving the beast inside of me free rein, letting fate dictate how my life evolved. It’s why I was a berserker, because this fierce rage burned deep within me.
Fighting, raiding, all of that helped to appease that need, that aggression.
But all of that couldn’t compare to one thing, one burning power inside of me.
To claim Greta.
Chapter Three
Greta
I knew he watched me, could feel his gaze on me. But I refused to look in his direction, didn’t want to make it seem obvious that I watched him as well. I held on tightly to my mug, the mead inside warming because I drank slow, savored the flavor, felt the heat of the brew move through my body.