Page 8 of The Stolen Bride (Kings of Fury #2)

Chapter

Eight

When Packing For Travel, Snacks Are As Important As Swords

–HOW TO TRAIN YOUR BERSERKER

By Elizabeth “Elle” Darcy-Bruce

O kay, so, I pondered kissing Viktor as we lay in silence. As we rose and readied for travel. As we mounted Fekete Ló and abandoned our campsite. Whatever. I’d get over it sooner or later.

We rode for hours, keeping the same arduous pace as yesterday, doing the same exact things. In other words, we stopped to rest only twice and ate jerky on the road. Despite my obsession with our nonexistent lip-lock, everything felt different between us. Maybe because I had a better understanding of my companion and a new appreciation for his plight.

Loving someone who hated you invited all kinds of hurt. Though I’d adored my adopted family, I had wondered about my birth parents constantly. Were they alive? Could they have taken care of me but just hadn’t wanted to? Even with such a devastating possibility, I’d still craved a relationship. Hoped, every day, that they would reach out. The longer that hope had gone unfulfilled, the faster it had soured, infecting other things, fueling emotions I didn’t like.

Bottling had helped. Something I was a little too raw to do at the moment. In fact, many of the bottles I’d buried in the past threatened to crack.

Maybe I stiffened atop the mount. Maybe I didn’t. Either way, Viktor wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on my crown, enveloping me with his heat and scent. His incredible strength. Though I shouldn’t, I relaxed against him. For being such a chaotic guy, he’d been pretty calming lately. Our sizzling sensual tension notwithstanding, obviously.

Here, now, I didn’t care if the bottles broke. He’d already expressed his interest in dealing with the complications. Why not let him?

Something to consider.

But not yet. The rhythmic clatters of horse hooves tapped against the forest floor, soothing me further. Despite my rawness, I couldn’t remember a time I’d been so at ease, even with Benjamin.

The longer I leaned against Viktor, breathing in crisp air scented by wildflowers, the faster a sense of invigoration bloomed. I began to feel as if I hovered in some kind of timeless moment that had taken place a thousand years ago while simultaneously happening in the present.

I opened my mouth to launch a new conversation, but Bodi trotted over, his horse remaining beside ours.

“No turul-shifters have ambushed us,” he announced, as if it were some great surprise .

“What’s your point?” Viktor demanded, keeping his arms wrapped around me.

The prince darted his gaze to mine. “Have you considered the possibility the woman is part of the trap?”

You’ve got to be kidding me . Oh, I got why he might suspect me of lying and working with Deco. But come on! As if I would really put myself into that kind of danger while my twin needed me.

“Ja,” Viktor repeated, still totally at ease. “I’ve considered it. And I will be the one to handle her if so. Me and me alone.” A warning dripped from each syllable. “Tell me you understand.”

I preened over his possessiveness–Wait. He suspected me of foul play, too, but he was helping me anyway, just in case? Intending to change my mind and win me over to his side? That might explain last night’s charm, which must have been more potent than I’d realized, creating some kind of unconscious softening inside me. Look how quickly I’d settled against him, unaware of his dangerous musings.

Well. I straightened with a snap. From now on, I’d be more careful. More guarded. Coming to like and depend upon such an unstable guy wasn’t in this year’s bingo card. The very reason I should stop thinking about kissing him! I mean, he hoped to keep me glued to his side for the rest of my life, even if he married Valkara. An idea I intended to nip in the bud after Juniper’s rescue. My sister and I could forget this other world existed. No more berserker obsession. I’d had my fill. We’d just have to ensure Deco never found us.

Fake our deaths, possibly? Kill the shifter king?

Whoa. Where had that thought come from?

“I understand.” The prince gave a terse nod and retreated .

“I’m not, you know,” I said and sighed. Except Malachi. His offer.

“Perhaps not wittingly,” Viktor replied.

Silence accompanied us the rest of the trip. As the sun descended, the stream of light that filtered through the overhead canopy thinned. Finally, though, we reached our destination. And oh, wow. What a destination it was. People would pay big money to use this area as a wedding venue. Not me, of course, but others. Anyway.

A large circular clearing surrounded a smaller circle marked by ten massive stones reminiscent of Stonehenge, each positioned to resemble a doorway. Flecks of gold and silver glittered in the air, while a dusting of diamond powder coated the outside of every rock. Precious gems rimmed the edges. Rubies. Sapphires. Emeralds. Plus jewels I didn’t recognize.

“Anything I should know about these traveling stones?” I asked as Viktor dismounted and helped me do the same.

“Yes. Humans usually die going through them. And if they survive, they often wish they’d died.”

What! “I’m human!” And already backing away.

He reached out to clasp my wrist. “Not fully. You are of sentinel blood. Fully griffin with a beast of your own. Which makes sense, since Malachi recruited you.”

Wait. I had a lion-eagle hybrid inside me? I mean, yes, Malachi had told me I hailed from his line, but I hadn’t considered this . The moisture in my mouth dried. “How do you know that for sure?”

“There are many indicators.” Viktor moved fast, leaning down to put his face at the base of my throat. My pulse leaped as he dragged his nose up, inhaling deeply. “Your scent is one,” he rasped, straightening. Gold rings flashed in his eyes. He released his grip on my arm, but there I stayed, close enough to lean into him. “Though yours is a perfume sweeter than most.” His voice dipped. “Deliciously sweet.”

I licked my lips and wrung my fingers, each action born from a conflicting emotion. Pleasure versus dismay. “I meant, how do you know I’m not human? What if you’re wrong for once and I die?” Who would rescue Juniper then?

“You’ve already passed through a traveling stone. There’s no other way to reach ?rok.” He linked his fingers with mine and led me to the circle. “And don’t forget the doorway in my tent.”

Right. Still I reeled. Malachi had risked my life without my permission. He must pay.

The berserkers strapped our supplies to their backs and released the horses, trusting them to return to camp on their own. We approached the stones on foot, everyone halting in front of a different pairing. Tremors swept over my limbs when Viktor took a post at my side.

“Don’t be afraid, Lovie.” He whispered the words straight into my ear, sending a new tide of shivers cascading over me. A talent of his, apparently. “I will let nothing happen to you, I swear it.”

“I’m not afraid. Not really.” But the stakes had never been higher. With Juniper, I’d finally found my other half. My missing piece. I needed time with her. “But I kind of am,” I admitted. And man, I hated fear.

“I will protect your life with my own.” He ruined the beautiful confession when he added, “You still owe me answers, songs, and a reward.”

I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth. “From sweet as cake to sour as lemons.”

“My specialty. Soldiers,” he called, and they straightened into attention. “It’s time.”

After shedding their shirts, they unsheathed large blades from the scabbards that hung from the waist of their leathers.

“I’m not going in topless,” I warned Viktor.

A rugged smile crossed his lips, there and gone. Just enough to light a fire inside me. “It’s purely ceremonial,” he said, clasping my hand with his free one. “This might sting a bit.” With no other warning, he cut my palm. A small incision with a big well of crimson.

The pain registered, but my adrenaline was too high for me to care. “Was that necessary?”

“You cannot pass through dimensions without blood.” He raised my arm and pressed my wound against both sides of the stone, ensuring I left a thick smear of red behind. Then he performed the same act on himself, cutting and pressing. Seeing his blood mingle with mine did something to me. My knees quaked.

“I never shed blood to enter the bathroom.”

“The bathroom is within this dimension,” he replied.

Oh. Well.

He returned the dagger to its sheath and squared his shoulders. He was just so big, his body so broad, I felt crowded in the best way. The start of a wing tattoo on his shoulder offered a perfect distraction. Not to mention the flawless flesh that stretched taut over what must be rocks. Such power! Oh, the ferocity barely banked inside him. Heat spread over my cheeks. I forgot all about my throbbing hand.

“If you have changed your mind and wish to stay behind, that’s no problem,” Viktor commented, withdrawing his swords. “I had a contingent of men follow us in case you wished to return to camp. They’ll escort you.” He didn’t wait for my response, just strode into the center of the stone doorway, vanishing in a blink .

The nerve of the man. And the thoughtfulness. The juxtaposition was maddening, exactly like the man himself.

Heart thudding, I rushed to catch up with him. In an instant, a gale force of wind slammed into me. Grains of sand pelted my body, acting as little needle pricks against my skin. Squeezing my eyes shut against the burn, I extended my arms, searching for Viktor. There! I flung myself against his back, clinging to the berserker as tight as humanly possible.

Just as suddenly as the wind kicked up, it died. The storm ended and peace reigned. Breathing deep, I pried open my eyes, relaxed my hold on Viktor, and glanced about, unsure what to expect…

Huh. We stood in front of another set of traveling stones. These were nothing like the others. They looked to be made of rusted metal and crumbling concrete. The sun appeared to be crumbling as well, with bits of it streaking across a dark gray sky studded by oily black clouds. Gnarled snow-capped trees with intertwined, thorn-littered branches surrounded us. An electric current charged frigid air scented with the sharp bite of evergreen.

Mist formed in front of my face with every exhalation. Viktor turned slowly and focused squarely on me, his chin down and his eyes fierce. He panted his breaths.

A prickly sensation rode the waves of my nerve endings, instincts screaming, Leave. Now .

I swallowed. He was close to raging out. But why? “Viktor. I need you to dial it down, okay?”

But he didn’t. One after the other, glowing golden rings rimmed his pupils, until flames crackled inside his irises. His inhalations became huffs, his nostrils flaring. With him, the mist resembled smoke, making him appear to be some sort of dragon shifter. He opened and closed claw-tipped fists.

Danger, danger! What had caused this fierce reaction? The land itself? Being closer to Deco?

“Viktor,” Bodi said, he and the others advancing on us, preparing to subdue the king. Thankfully, they didn't react as he did. They must have used the mystery herb he’d mentioned to keep themselves cold.

Growls rumbled in Viktor’s chest, a sign we were one step closer to a full on tantrum.

“Stay back,” I commanded the others. Firebrand activated! If words alone weren’t the answer, touch was. I flattened my palms against his sizzling chest and glided nearer. Mmm. So warm! “Easy there, big fella. The Clover is here.”

He drew in a breath. Released it. His gaze remained hot on me.

“That’s it. That’s the way,” I praised as his tension dulled.

“We should go,” he grated. “Turul-shifters lurk all around.”

What!

While the soldiers heaved a collective sigh of relief, my fight response cranked to high gear. I scanned the woods with a sharper perspective. No sign of the shifters that I could see. No moving shadows, feathered wings, or glowing red eyes.

A chill settled in the small of my back. If I never glimpsed those glowing red eyes again, it was too soon.

“Formation,” Viktor called, and the warriors drew close, encircling us, forming a protective wall. They even radiated heat, saving me from the icy temperature. “Coat.”

Bodi pulled a thin cloth parka from a backpack and tossed it to his king, who secured the material around my shoulders with an ornate clasp at the neck. It was shockingly hot, with a soft fur lining, and oh, I loved it.

After a signal from Viktor, we marched forward, leaving the relative safety of the stone circle to enter this new forest filled with overlarge snakes, spiders and two headed squirrels.

And just like that, I was officially done with the woodland setting.

I remained on high alert, on the hunt for anything suspicious. Near silence provided an eerie soundtrack when compared to the verdant life found in Viktor’s lands. Instead of birdsong and the babble of a stream, I detected the hollow crunch of snow underfoot. Rather than the vibrant colors of wildflowers and trees heavy with green leaves, a monochrome backdrop of frost painted a picture of despair.

The only sight I enjoyed sprang from the too brief moments I observed Viktor from my periphery. Though he still hovered at the edge of a break, he provided a visual feast for a starving pet groomer. White hair in utter disarray. Green eyes sharp, watchful. Jaw clenched. Muscles twitching with anticipation, daring an enemy to approach. Aggression pulsed from him.

His sensual appeal was off the charts.

Oh! “Turul-shifter!” I pointed to a winged muscle man perched on the branch of a tree, his eyes glowing bright red. Ebony wings arched over his shoulders, with small horns protruding along each arch. A fur kilt-type garment covered his thighs. His dark hair flapped around ultra-defined features.

None of my entourage reacted. They continued as if we weren’t being watched .

“I don’t understand,” I said, glancing back. The shifter was gone.

“He’s only a scout,” Viktor explained. “I want him to tell Deco what he saw.”

Ahhh. A war strategy. I liked it. Maybe. Kind of. It showed a confident front.

“Besides,” he added, and I swallowed a groan.

Anytime Viktor tacked on an addition to something he’d said, it never ended well for me. I lifted a hand. “No. The conversation is over. Say nothing else.”

He shrugged and held his silence, even seeming to forget I walked beside him.

Was he seriously not going to tell me what he’d intended to tell me? “Fine, let’s hear what else you hoped to do by letting the scout go free,” I said, curiosity getting the best of me.

“Perhaps I’ll tell you. Later. With the proper incentive.”

“You fiend!” I belted out, and he almost smiled.

Our group climbed a hill, descended it, and came to a river with ice chunks floating along the water’s surface. I scanned left and right but found no break or bridge. Through the slush we go .

Teeth chattering, I waded across the thigh-deep length directly behind Viktor. Oh, the cold! By the halfway point, the muscles in my legs shook. When we reached the shore, I only wanted to collapse. But I pressed on. I’d probably need another massage tonight.

Fresh goose bumps broke out all over me.

“Very well, I’ll tell you without incentive,” Viktor piped up, as if I’d insisted. He pointed to a hill. “There’s an entire flock of turul-shifters already waiting for us below.”

Okay, so, the groan I’d managed to swallow earlier now escaped. “How many soldiers constitute a flock?”

“Only fifty.”

What! Heart thumping against my ribs, I palmed both of my daggers. “Fifty against ten is so unfair.”

“Ja. They’re going to die badly.”

I blinked at him, noting the seriousness of his expression.

“I’m ready to ask my next question in the queue,” he stated, matter-of-fact, as if we weren’t marching into a battle.

Uh. “We should be preparing for war.”

“Nem. I’m always prepared.”

Was he truly that confident of his victory? He must know something I didn’t. “Ask,” I croaked, because what else could I do?

“How do you usually calm from your tempers?”

“The last one happened when I was a little girl. I got physical and hurt my mother.” Shame and guilt coated my voice. “Seeing her pain motivated me to create, well, I call them bottles. I store my emotions in them.”

He frowned. “So you’ve never experienced a true temper as an adult?”

“No.” I cringed. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Ja. Because you’re about to.”

“What—”

A high-pitched, piercing call cut through my response, curdling the blood in my veins.

Our group halted at the top of the hill. Below us, the promised flock stood in battle position, fully shifted and waiting for us. The corners of Viktor’s mouth curved into a smile regular people would probably describe as their worst nightmares.

“Whatever you do, no bottling.” Lifting his chin, he proclaimed to the others, “The killing begins in five, four, three, two…”