Mated to the Berserkers: A Menage Shifter Romance by Lee Savino

pit. “The only thing I must do is decide whether or not to cover this pit with a stone. The rain will be a mercy, until hunger eats you alive. Be silent, or I will order the pack to cover this pit with a rock, and you will never see the sun again.”
    I felt the Alpha’s rage building, the taint spreading, silencing his wolf, swallowing his humanity until the only thing left was the beast—
    Samuel. I choked out. Give yer rage to me.
    The Alpha roared.
    I shifted, and ran and ran and ran. Samuel’s blast of power overtook me and I felt my wolf self change—nails lengthening, body reshaping—so I was neither man nor wolf but something else.
    “What is the beast?” Yseult once asked us. “Man or wolf?”
    “Neither.” I’d answered, at the same time Samuel said, “Both. The focus of the wolf and cruelty of the man.”
    “What comes of such a union?”
    “Ragnarok.” Samuel had answered. “The end of worlds.”
    The end of my world, I thought, before the beast claimed my mind.
    *
    I woke in the center of a circle of destruction. Saplings and bushes ripped from the ground. The earth torn where great claws had ripped into it. My hands bore cuts lined with dried blood. The magic healed quickly, but I still ached.
    Beside me lay the carcass of a stag, a powerful creature with a giant rack of antlers. A hundred spears would have to work to bring it down. The head lay several feet away from its body. Its entrails spilled in a gruesome feast for ravens.
    I stood, stretching painful muscles. The elk wasn’t the only casualty. Carcasses of animals littered the ground. Rodents, sparrows, even beetles, nothing survived the maelstrom of Berserker rage. The earth stank of tainted magic.
    At least I was alive. Samuel once told me about a Berserker who, after a great battle, clawed his own heart out. Others cut their flesh with knives. What else had I done?
    There was no sight of the mountain. I had run for miles. Luckily I could easily follow the beast’s path.
    I headed home, but my steps faltered. When the beast was upon us, it took our sight, our vision, our sanity. Our woman would never survive. Our only hope was to stay away. It would be better if I never returned.
    Do not think such thoughts, Samuel ordered. Come home. She misses you.
    I obeyed. I did not know how Samuel could be so calm.  To him, Brenna was the last hope of a dying man.
    And his control had to be perfect.
    By dusk I limped up the mountain. Samuel met me at the mouth of the cave.
    “How long was I gone?”
    “Three days. I am sorry,” he said, before loping away. He would spend a day off the mountain, part in penance, in part to distance himself from the rage simmering underneath all my control.
    I found Brenna in a chamber we’d given her for her own. Long ago, whoever had carved the rooms out of stone had cunningly found ways to let air and light flow in from the outside. Brenna’s little room had a patch of sunlight from late morning until afternoon. The place stayed warmer than any other, besides the cavern of hot springs.
    My footsteps were silent on the stone floor. Our beloved knelt over a patch of earth we’d gathered for her, tending to her garden. I’d never believed flowers would grow inside a cave, but Brenna probably could coax them from the very stone. 
    “Hello, lass.”
    She started at my voice, and again when she saw me. I must’ve looked rougher than I felt, for she came to my side and threw my arm around her shoulders to guide me to the bathing chamber. There, she washed her hands before gripping mine and leading me into the pool.
    I didn’t realize how my head was pounding until her fingers stroked my hair. I stood with my eyes closed as she soaped a cloth and rubbed my tired muscles. When she bade me dunk, I obeyed and came out of the water feeling like a new man.
    “Brenna.” I wanted to touch her, but I felt I did not deserve her. I held out my hands to her, wondering how I could explain, wondering how much Samuel