AllFreeNovel
Share Us
FromA Beginner’s Guide to Berserker Bliss
Author Unknown
Iagonized over the path to take right up to the midnight deadline. When the time came, however, I made the decision as easily as breathing.
If I wanted a different life, I had to do something different. Wasn’t that what I’d told Isobel? What Mom had always told me? Rather than running from problems, as I’d done with August and my parents, and so many other things throughout my life, it was time to fight back. The outcome mattered.
With a firm plan of action, I shed my agony and buckled down, pouring through the berserker books of lore and legend. There must be a loophole I’d missed.
When sunlight filtered through the windows of my chamber, illuminating the dust motes dancing through theair, I rubbed tired, burning eyes. Morning had officially arrived—and I had failed. Legally, the berserkers had sealed off every gap. If you tried to kill a king’s fated, you died. Period.
Because Callen hadn’t rendered a judgment against me, his queen had the right to demand justice from his peers. If I spoke the truth, I died. But so would she, if anyone believed me. Did I want to be responsible for the second death of Mirren’s mother?
I showered and dressed in the clothes left for me. A solemn dark skirt and sweater. Far from the fancy dresses I’d been expected to wear as Mrs. Bruce, Queen to Callen, the berserker king. Any minute, someone would arrive to fetch me and escort me to the trial. My guess? It would be held at the stones. The only neutral ground for the other kings.
I waited in the center of my bedchamber, too nervous to sit. Hingessqueaked as the door swung open. I held my breath, my mind erasing.
Ponytail entered, spotted me, and narrowed his eyes. “Come.” He waved me over.
Showtime.
Head high, I marched into the hallway, where Buzz waited. Ponytail followed me out, leaving no avenue of escape.
Buzz led me through the castle, and I did my best to tamp down my nerves.
The entire castle had been emptied of any other living beings. There was no movement. No sound other than the thumping boot steps of my companions. A heartbeat that gave new life to my confidence. I could win this. I possessed what Sorcha didn’t. Love and truth.Both were powerful advocates in my corner.
We exited the home. As usual, a car waited for us. We climbed inside, and yes, we drove to the stones in terse silence.
The car slowed, signaling our arrival, and I notched my chin. Fog shrouded the area, hiding everything but a stretch of green.My guards and I emerged, and they flanked me as we trudgedtoward the circle. I could almost imagine bagpipes sounding in the background, escorting me to my fate, but thankfully, their forlorn melody never broke the air.
Tremors invaded my limbs when I stepped past the rocks and the fog thinned. A cool breeze whipped locks of my hair in front of my face.
My guards hung back, remaining outside the circle. Eight men and a lone woman stood with the stones, each between a pair. The kings and a queen?
They were fierce and commanding, their attention glued to me. No one spoke. Not even Malachi, whose studied me with a confused frown. Did he see the mark?
One of the most muscular kings gripped his stones, his claws digging so deep he’d caused cracks to spread. He breathed so hard, his nostrils flared. Over and over he swiped his foot through the dirt, reminding me of a bull soon to charge. Dark hair stuck out in spikes. Glittering gold rings flashed in his irises. He appeared a hundred percent feral. An animal trapped in human skin.But which animal?
Trepidation spun through me. I focused on the degree of power now filling the air. The monarchs reflected the lands they called home in dress and appearance, but all the males were muscular and rugged, while the sole woman was toned to perfection.
My heart nearly stopped when I spotted Callen. Hestrode to the circle’s center, clad in a perfectly tailored suit, not a strand of hair out of place. His gorgeous features appeared chiseled from granite, and his hands remained fisted at his sides. Barely banked rage burned beneath his skin.
He’d expected me to abandon ship. Too bad. Up went my chin a little higher. Sorcha as fake Isobel stood near him, wearing an exquisite, tailored navy dress, polished stilettos and a string of pearls I recognized as a gift from King Malachi.
She glared at me, as rigid as a board. My knees knocked but I squared my shoulders. Let the case of the master manipulator versus the plucky heroine commence.
Callen didn’t move. He simply stated, “You called this hearing to order, Mrs. Bruce. Begin.”
Without hesitation, Sorcha pointed an accusing finger at me. “Elizabeth Darcy works for Tavish the Great. There are undoctored photos to prove it.”
My nails cut into my palms.
“She snuck into my home and tried to kill me,” Sorcha continued. “According to our law, I’m allowed to decide her end. My husband refuses to do his duty, and I demand satisfaction. Behead her.”
Callen stiffened, clearly angry, but she didn’t back down.
Inhale. Exhale. She expected me to weave my tale. To accuse her of soul switching. She would then claim I was lying, a last-ditch effort to turn her clan against her and force her death, even if I had to die myself.
