Royal House of Shadows Box Set: Lord of the Vampires\Lord of Rage\Lord of the Wolfyn\Lord of the Abyss (36 page)

“Leyek is strong. And brutal,” Breena whispered, and Osborn understood. This minion of the Blood Sorcerer might look frail, but that was an illusion. His power was indomitable, tinged with great evil.

Osborn became one with the
ber
spirit.

“Are you what I think you are?” Leyek asked.

Osborn steadied his shoulders.

The Blood Sorcerer’s minion let out a delighted laugh. “You are. You’re Ursan. A berserker, in fact. Thought we’d killed you all.”

His fingers locked on the hilt of his sword. “You thought wrong.”

Leyek flashed him a smile. “Good. Your women died crying and screaming, by the way. I’ll enjoy your death just as much.”

His berserkergang raged inside him, but Osborn tamped it down. He knew Leyek’s words were lies and meant to provoke him.

Leyek made a show of examining the length of his nails. “Surprised you would be helping an Elden princess. Thought disguising our changeling vamps as those of Elden was a particularly clever bit of deception designed by my master. Although I will admit I did think the subtly of the ploy would be wasted on a beast.”

A coldness crept into his body, and invaded his
chest. This wasn’t the focusing chill of the berserkergang overtaking him—this was something different.

Kill.

Avenge.

Hurt.

Breena rested her soft hand on his shoulder. Quieting him.

His woman was right. This creature, this bearer of evil, wanted to anger him. Push him to make a mistake because this thing knew that, despite his command of blood magic, Osborn could still kill him. Would still kill him. With the power of his berserker ancestry and Breena’s nearness.

Osborn raised his sword, calmly and with perfect balance.

E
very lesson, every word of caution and instruction, Osborn ever gave Breena now ran through her mind. She’d never been so afraid. She’d awoken not so long ago with only two commands echoing in her mind. To survive and to avenge.

Now she added a new one on her own: win this fight with Osborn.

Leyek raised his sword, waving it around in an elaborate dance.

It’s the flourishing knights who are the first to die.

The air around her chilled. Osborn’s berserker-gang grew in strength. The Blood Sorcerer’s minion charged. The clang of steel on steel rang through the
air as Osborn blocked his blow. With an upswing of his sword, her warrior almost sent Leyek reeling to the floor.

She searched the crowd until she met Rolfe’s eyes. Signaling toward the door, she mouthed the word, “Go!” With Leyek fully immersed in battle, now would be the time for her people to escape. With a nod, Rolfe silently gathered the Eldens who awaited their deadly fate and ushered them away.

With her people secure, Breena reached for her own sword. Two on one might not be a fair fight, but when did a wielder of blood magic deserve honor and respect?

Osborn charged forward, his sword slicing through his prey’s shoulder. Leyek screeched at the pain, the sound horrible to hear; the walls began to shake, and dust rained down on their heads.

“That’s the sound your vamps made as I killed them,” Osborn shouted at him with a sneer. He thrust again, but Leyek was able to sidestep the blow.

The Blood Sorcerer’s minion began to shake and mumble. Words, dark words, reverberated off the beams of the ceiling. A revolting menace permeated through the small hall. Nausea made her stomach roil.

“He’s summoning his magic,” she called.

Leyek moved in a flash. A slash appeared on the right side of Osborn’s pelt. Then the left. With a gleeful cackle, the pelt fell to the floor and caught on fire.

Osborn’s connection to the
ber
spirit was severed. Gone.

With a roar of outrage, Osborn rushed toward the minion. But some invisible force repelled him back, and left him bleeding. A nasty gash appeared across his chest, and blood seeped from the wound. Blood magic.

Osborn glanced down at his injury, and wiped across his ribs. His hand came back red with his blood. He stilled at the sight, and the room seemed to warm.

Then her warrior’s face changed. The unrelenting rage lining his features softened. Replaced by determination. Osborn thrust, parried and thrust again.

Leyek stumbled backward, blood pouring from a gash across his face, and another wound to his side. Osborn charged once more, burying the blade in the minion’s stomach. Leyek fell to the cold stone floor, his blood pooling around him.

“Tell me how they died again,” Osborn ordered.

Leyek struggled to breathe. “I’ll give you power. Great power. We’ll bring the girl in together. My master will reward you greatly.”

“Tell me how they died.”

The minion’s eyes turned the color of decay. He knew there’d be no ally in the Ursan standing over him. “I gave free rein to the vamps. Torture, devastate, torment…they did it all.” Leyek’s words began to slur, a murky
haze surrounded him. The wound on his cheek began to heal. She would not let this thing live another day.

She ran to Osborn’s side, and grabbed the steel of his sword. Breena gripped the blade so hard it cut into her flesh. Energy stirred within her, swirled and grew. With a snap it left her fingers, forging itself with the steel.

“My magic with your strength,” Breena said. “It’s time to finish him.”

“It’s only right,” he answered.

Osborn steered her aside, kicked Leyek’s blade toward him, then backed up. Her warrior eyed the Blood Sorcerer’s minion. Waved him forward.

Leyek grabbed the hilt of his sword with bloody fingers. He chanted as he stood, but Breena no longer feared his brand of magic. He lunged at Osborn, and with only one strike from her warrior’s sword, Leyek fell to the ground dead. Her magic had destroyed him.

Osborn wavered on his feet, and Breena ran toward him, looping his arm over her shoulders and helping him out the door. He needed to be in the fresh air, away from the death and magic of the blood.

“You did it, Osborn. And without your pelt.”

“We did it together.”

“You belong at my side, Breena,” he told her once they’d crossed the threshold, loving the feel of her strength and trying to not let on that he was hurt as he appeared.

“Don’t you mean you belong at
my
side?” she asked, a slow beautiful smile curving her lips.

“Yes.” His breath flowed out as a relieved groan.

Her kissable lips turned pouty. “I was doing pretty well in there. You didn’t have to turn all berserker.”

“I am a berserker.”

“Even without your pelt.”

He nodded. The
ber
spirit would always be part of him. He understood that now. A lesson he could one day teach his brothers. “And yes, I did have to turn ‘all berserker.’ For you.”

Breena stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “That’s why I love you. And him. Mostly you,” she teased.

Osborn grabbed her hands. “You know I must go with you to Elden. The Blood Sorcerer killed my family, too.”

Breena nodded. “I was hoping this was where you said you loved me, too.”

She tried to pull her fingers from his grasp, but he wouldn’t let go. He would never let go. “And I’m trying to tell you that I would have followed you to Elden, anyway. Even without knowing he was responsible for what happened to my people. I was returning to convince you, uh, that I belonged at your side when I heard the sound of your blade.”

He let her hands drop. Her decision. Her choice.

She reached up and cupped his cheek, her thumb running along his lower lip.

“There will be another full moon tonight. Breena
of Elden, will you join me under the stars and seal your life with mine?”

After gripping his hands in her tiny ones, she gave his fingers a squeeze. “I don’t know what we will face tomorrow, but tonight will be ours. Yes, Osborn.”

“And, Breena?”

She gazed into his eyes. “Yes?”

“I love you.”

T
he night of Leyek’s defeat, Breena insisted they have a feast. She said it was in celebration, but Osborn knew she sensed her people needed festivity. The music, the dancing and the tales around the fire. To feel normal again. United as Eldens. The Blood Sorcerer had nearly broken them as a people. Truthfully many of them would never be the same, but tonight they would eat and laugh and forget.

Tomorrow would be for battle plans. Breena had already questioned every Elden in an attempt to ferret out news, even the most vague of rumors about her brothers. Osborn knew she’d
never fully rest until she had her answers, even if they were tragic.

As the sun set, the fire blazed higher. By the hour more Eldens crept from the shadows to join her. Each one was greeted with laughter or tears and sometimes both. Families were reunited while others learned the knowledge of loved ones with stern acceptance. Grief would be for later. After the Blood Sorcerer’s death.

As the stars filled the sky, Breena began to tell stories of Osborn’s bravery, and the Eldens were thrilled to have a legendary Berserker join them in the upcoming battle. They laughed as she relayed his skills at dancing and he found himself smiling.

Osborn had hated these people of Elden for most of his life, wanted to annihilate them like his own people had been by the Blood Sorcerer. Now, for the first time in his life, Osborn found he was content. But not so content he didn’t wonder how long they would be obligated to sit around the fire. He wanted nothing more than to draw Breena into the darkness of the night. To seal his life to hers as she’d promised. To lay his cloak on the ground and draw her down beside him and make love to her beneath the stars. He wanted nothing more than to hear her cries of pleasure.

Earlier today he’d thought he’d never see her
again, or hear her sweet voice again. Feel her touch. Sleep in his arms.

Rolfe moved to stand behind Breena. His steely gaze challenging as he crossed his arms over his chest. The message was clear. There’d be no sneaking away this night, or any night, until they were wed.

He gave the older warrior a nod of understanding, his intentions were honorable—marriage wise that was. What he wanted to do to Breena’s body was wicked.

Even though their most dangerous days lay ahead of them, Osborn looked forward to the future. For the first time since he was a young boy of fifteen. Breena had given that to him.

Thankfully, Breena had moved away from stories of him and on toward tales of her training with the sword. Laughter settled around him, and he saw it took a moment for her people to wrap their minds around the changing image of her from sweet heir of Elden to warrior princess.

Two more men joined the circle around the fire, and he heard Breena gasp. His hand was instantly at his side, his fingers curling around the hilt of his sword.

Bernt and Torben stood there.

He raised to his feet. “How did—?”

Breena rushed to his brothers, kissing each
one on the cheek. “Magic. I left clues only they could follow.”

Osborn didn’t like the idea of them joining the fight, but they were almost men now. It was time he began accepting them that way. The Blood Sorcerer was responsible for taking away their childhood, and they had a right to the fight. His brothers settled around the fire, two more berserkers quickly welcomed. The people would entertain themselves long into the night.

“I can do more than just leave clues. I don’t know if it’s that I’m on Elden land again or that the battle with Leyek released something, but I can feel my power growing. Look.”

Breena brought her hands together and he felt the change in her. Something powerful and elusive formed between her hands. Grew. Light pooled between her hands. “I can fully control my magic now. I don’t have to rely on intense emotion.”

His mind strayed to the intense emotion they’d used to mask the trace magic from the blood scouts at the lake and he nearly groaned.

The ball of light grew and she tossed it up into the air above her head where it separated into three distinct spheres. With a wave of her hand the spheres zipped across the sky, and he surveyed their progress until the light faded into the horizon. “I’m sending that out to my brothers.”
A smile spread across her face. “I sense they are alive. I know it.”

He’d been gifted with this incredible woman. He stay by her side until his last breath.

“The moon is full overhead,” she whispered.

His heart pounded and his body hardened. In a few moments she’d be his forever. With a laugh, she lifted her skirts and took off at a run. “I’ll be yours, but only if you catch me.”

Osborn was too quick for her and reached for her hands. “Just try to get away.”

Like most little girls, Breena had often dreamed of her wedding day. She’d wear a stunning dress, formal and beaded with a long train the colors of Elden. Her husband would, of course, be courtly and handsome, and he’d take her to his palace after the wedding feast and the dancing.

Never once had she expected the man who’d one day be her husband would be more inclined to growl than to dance. And tonight, she wore the sage dress her future husband had bought for her, the golden snake armband securely in place. Better than any imagined wedding finery.

Instead of a great hall filled with a long list of aristocratic and highborn guests to view the royal proceedings, they walked hand in hand, just the two of them, surrounded by the trees and under a canopy of stars. The reality of Osborn was
more perfect than anything she’d ever dreamed or imagined.

Osborn, her wild berserker of a man, loved her.

Once they’d reached a small clearing, he stopped and turned toward her, twining his fingers with hers.

Glancing up, she gasped when she saw his appearance. “What happened to your hair?” she asked. All of Osborn’s long brown locks were gone, his hair cut close to his head.

“Another tradition of my people. On his wedding day, a man cuts his hair. A taming, if you will.”

Breena laughed. She doubted there would be much taming where this man was concerned. His new look would take a little getting used to, but she liked it.

The lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes smoothed, and his expression turned serious. “Breena, my love. I seal my life with yours.”

Such simple words. No elaborate vows or flourishes. Just a man taking the woman he wanted out into nature and declaring himself as hers before the stars and under the moon. A swell of love and emotion made her eyes tear. But she would not cry. Her warrior deserved a warrioress.

“Osborn, my love,” she told him in a clear, strong voice. She met his brown eyes and smiled. “I seal my life with yours.”

Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess who only really lived when she dreamed. Then one day she woke up surrounded by three glowering bears. With patience and love she tamed the fiercest, and with a kiss transformed the beast into a prince.