Breena. “Dare you harm a woman?”
“Just after a bit of fun. We had no money for the paid women. You can have ’er first.”
His offer was the last thing he spoke as Osborn snapped his neck with one hand. He rounded on the last, his knife in his hand. But the berserker hungered for barehanded combat.
“I wasn’t gonna do anything. My brother made me come.”
The man’s crying words didn’t slow Osborn from stalking toward him. His prey dropped to his knees, not much older than his own brothers, and Osborn paused.
“D-don’t kill me. Please.”
His berserkergang forged images of his dead mother and sister. Osborn wrapped his fingers around the young man’s throat. “Never touch a woman like that,” he ordered, his voice more of a snarl.
The young man shook his head. “No. I won’t.”
Osborn tightened the grip he held around his neck, watching as his face turned purple and his eyes grew more fearful. “Never harm a woman.”
He could only nod in response and Osborn let him go. The alley filled with the man’s deep gasps of breath.
Osborn never took his eyes off him. “You live. As a warning. Go.”
“Thank you,” he said, running as fast as he could down the alley and out of sight.
He turned on Breena, who lay on the dirty cobblestones of the alleyway. Her eyes were filled withconfusion, and terror lined her soft features. His berserkergang bristled and swelled, at first thriving off her fright. Osborn stalked toward her. Breena shrank away, crawling backward, doing what she could to get away from him. To survive. The berserkergang inside him recoiled at the sight of her fleeing. His rage weakened suddenly, a different path from the slow fade his anger usually took. The day before, when he’d found her invading his lake, he wanted her to be afraid of him. Now the idea repulsed him. Made him feel ashamed.
Breena had backed herself into the wall, her eyes darting, searching desperately for a way to escape. He shucked off his pelt, tossed his knife to the side and sunk on his haunches.
“Breena.” His voice still shook with traces of his berserker rage. He closed his eyes, concentrated and forced the ber spirit inside him to settle. He’d never battled against his own berserkergang . Had never needed to. He glanced down at Breena. Never wanted to.
He gently touched her arm, the warmth of her skin chasing away the cold his berserkergang always left behind. Osborn watched as she took a deep breath, and forced her back to straighten. He hid a smile, because he knew Breena was girding herself to do battle. With him.
After a moment, she finally met his gaze. Accusation laced her green eyes, and any idea he’d had earlier of smiling vanished.
Breena was looking at him like something unworldly. Despised. It was something he was used to. Only he hadn’t realized he didn’t want her looking at him that way.
Few outside of Ursa understood the nature of hispeople. One of the reasons they kept to themselves. Most of the inhabitants of the other realms were afraid or relegated them as little more than animals. Things to be feared, yes, but also abhorred.
Osborn’s stare never wavered from hers. His expression grew brutal. Distrustful. He wasn’t in the practice of guarding his expression, and now was too late to start. But Breena’s beautiful green eyes were only filled with curiosity. That full bottom lip of hers curved in wonder.
“What are you?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
S O THIS WAS HER WARRIOR .
Breena had never seen anything so savage. Osborn fought with a ferocity unmatched by anything she’d ever witnessed. The knights who’d pledged themselves to her father prided themselves on their skill with a sword, jousted and battled from the lists at tournaments with precision and pride. But Osborn’s raw strength and power during the attack was brutal and ruthless.
Almost like an animal.
The perfect challenge to one who wielded blood magic.
A tide of denial and horror swept over her abruptly.
“Just after a bit of fun. We had no money for the paid women. You can have ’er first.”
His offer was the last thing he spoke as Osborn snapped his neck with one hand. He rounded on the last, his knife in his hand. But the berserker hungered for barehanded combat.
“I wasn’t gonna do anything. My brother made me come.”
The man’s crying words didn’t slow Osborn from stalking toward him. His prey dropped to his knees, not much older than his own brothers, and Osborn paused.
“D-don’t kill me. Please.”
His berserkergang forged images of his dead mother and sister. Osborn wrapped his fingers around the young man’s throat. “Never touch a woman like that,” he ordered, his voice more of a snarl.
The young man shook his head. “No. I won’t.”
Osborn tightened the grip he held around his neck, watching as his face turned purple and his eyes grew more fearful. “Never harm a woman.”
He could only nod in response and Osborn let him go. The alley filled with the man’s deep gasps of breath.
Osborn never took his eyes off him. “You live. As a warning. Go.”
“Thank you,” he said, running as fast as he could down the alley and out of sight.
He turned on Breena, who lay on the dirty cobblestones of the alleyway. Her eyes were filled withconfusion, and terror lined her soft features. His berserkergang bristled and swelled, at first thriving off her fright. Osborn stalked toward her. Breena shrank away, crawling backward, doing what she could to get away from him. To survive. The berserkergang inside him recoiled at the sight of her fleeing. His rage weakened suddenly, a different path from the slow fade his anger usually took. The day before, when he’d found her invading his lake, he wanted her to be afraid of him. Now the idea repulsed him. Made him feel ashamed.
Breena had backed herself into the wall, her eyes darting, searching desperately for a way to escape. He shucked off his pelt, tossed his knife to the side and sunk on his haunches.
“Breena.” His voice still shook with traces of his berserker rage. He closed his eyes, concentrated and forced the ber spirit inside him to settle. He’d never battled against his own berserkergang . Had never needed to. He glanced down at Breena. Never wanted to.
He gently touched her arm, the warmth of her skin chasing away the cold his berserkergang always left behind. Osborn watched as she took a deep breath, and forced her back to straighten. He hid a smile, because he knew Breena was girding herself to do battle. With him.
After a moment, she finally met his gaze. Accusation laced her green eyes, and any idea he’d had earlier of smiling vanished.
Breena was looking at him like something unworldly. Despised. It was something he was used to. Only he hadn’t realized he didn’t want her looking at him that way.
Few outside of Ursa understood the nature of hispeople. One of the reasons they kept to themselves. Most of the inhabitants of the other realms were afraid or relegated them as little more than animals. Things to be feared, yes, but also abhorred.
Osborn’s stare never wavered from hers. His expression grew brutal. Distrustful. He wasn’t in the practice of guarding his expression, and now was too late to start. But Breena’s beautiful green eyes were only filled with curiosity. That full bottom lip of hers curved in wonder.
“What are you?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
S O THIS WAS HER WARRIOR .
Breena had never seen anything so savage. Osborn fought with a ferocity unmatched by anything she’d ever witnessed. The knights who’d pledged themselves to her father prided themselves on their skill with a sword, jousted and battled from the lists at tournaments with precision and pride. But Osborn’s raw strength and power during the attack was brutal and ruthless.
Almost like an animal.
The perfect challenge to one who wielded blood magic.
A tide of denial and horror swept over her abruptly.
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