AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My gaze slid to the fluff ball, who had all but folded in two to lick her own butt. Thora sensed the attention and stopped to intimidate me with a snarl.
“Just spill what I want to know, Isobel. You didn’t even leave me a list of who’s who.” Hope sparked. “Or did you?” Had I missed it?
“Of course I didn’t. Risk being found out before I escaped? No. Your new life, your problem.”
Argh! “Tell me something before I…I…”
“No need to throw a tantrum. I’ll give you the information you seek.” She paused, as if bracing herself. “See, Callen believes fate picked me as his firebrand. I was to be his exclusive property, but then I met his only sibling, Roderick. To claim me as his own, Roddie needed to become king. With no other option, he challenged his brother to a death match. Which Callen accepted just to spite me, I’m sure. Aye, the law states he cannot refuse a challenge without losing his crown but come on! Roddiewas more than his brother. They were best friends, too. The least Callen could’ve done was step aside and let the man have his heart’s desire.”
King. Death match. Crown. “Stop! Just stop. No one engages in death matches anymore.” I pinched the bridge of my nose.Thatwas seriously my first response? “What’s a firebrand?”
“Guess I began my story in the wrong spot,” she said with a little laugh. “I should’ve mentioned Callen is immortal and king of berserkers. Well, Scotland’s berserkers. Congrats! You are now the only person in the world able to soothe him from the worst of his fiery rages. Maybe. It depends on whether the body or soul is responsible for said soothing. Time will tell. I suggest you do your best to keep him calm.”
What the—what?I squeezed the phone, fighting the urge to hurl it across the room. She had not just thrown out words like ‘immortal’ and ‘berserkers,’ ancient warriors known to slip into a violence-fueled trance during battle. Callen, some mythological ruler? Hardly. For starters, no one had called him by a royal title. But theyhadtreated him with reverence. And some of the servants had curtseyed.
“You’re lying.” Had to be. Outside of myths, movies, and books, there was no such thing as berserkers. Although, granted, before yesterday, I hadn’t known souls could switch bodies, either.
“Usually I am, but not today.”
Panic brewed, preparing to fill a pot with trouble. What if shehadtold the truth? Callen considered Isobel— me—the catalyst for his brother’s death. He must long for my misery. And I couldn’t blame him. Considering Isobel’s callous attitude, he probably harbored all kinds of pain and resentment over the incident.
I massaged an ache in my sternum. Sadly, things might get worse for me if he learned my real identity. Isobel claimed soul switching was a death sentence; even Callen had hinted at it.
He was a man who might have fought to the death with his brother, simply over a challenge. What wouldn’t he do to me?
Unable to mask the tremor in my voice, I asked, “You never told me what a firebrand is.”
“You’d probably say fated mate. Which reminds me. Berserkers are warring extra hard with wolf-shifters, so Callen is gonna be super protective of you, which means he’ll hate you more than ever. Oh, and he knows your scent, so even if you run away, he’ll find you in a matter of hours. Okay, tootles.”Click.
Grrr. I jabbed my finger at the phone, doing an online search about berserkers. Verification I’d gotten their traits right. Thought to be fictional, with stories of near feral, frenzied, undying warriors running into battle naked and leaving mass destruction in their wake, unable to stop themselves. Thought to be possessed by the spirit of the bear, wolf, or boar. The most famous were Norse, possibly Vikings, with a few mentions of Scottish and Gaelic settlements thrown in. To relocate and rebrand to hide their otherworldly origins?
I tried to check for information about Callen Bruce, but a block prevented any pages from opening.
Acid burned my throat. I checked Isobel’s notes and messages. I pursed my lips. All deleted.
What should I do? Continue to tear her room apart in hopes of finding money and the identification she allegedly torched? Or gather my courage and speak with Callen?
Yes. That. He should be here, right? We were only two days into our honeymoon.
I cackled a humorless laugh. Might as well track him down. He had answers, I had questions. Besides, I couldn’t stay holed up in this room forever.
Determined, I power walked to the closet to select shoes. Ugh. Stilettos galore, no sneakers in sight. Not even measly house slippers. Whatever. I grabbed the fanciest pair of heels, hopefully the most expensive, and hammered them into the floor until the heels broke off.
“Wish me all the best, Lady Thorn,” I said, slipping the new flats on my feet and striding past the bed.
In response, she hopped to the floor and trotted off, shaking an admittedly adorable tush. A huge improvement in our relationship, if I did say so myself.
With my head high and my shoulders squared, I soared into the hall, abandoning the anonymity of the bedroom. Buzz and Ponytail waited outside the door. No reason to acknowledge them. I kept going, faking Isobel’s confidence. The musclemen followed me.
Doing my best to ignore them, I catalogued my surroundings. Wow! The vaulted ceiling was painted to resemble the sky, with all its many nuances. Stained glass windows in shades of cerulean, indigo, and cobalt dazzled. So did the stone walls covered with gilt framed artwork, ten of which depicted ten blood-soaked warriors being crowned.
I licked my lips and moved my gaze from the savagery to lovely light fixtures made of azure crystals. Man, they really dug the color blue here. But it worked, creating a space of breathtaking beauty when you factored out the gruesomeness of the portraits. Like that one. A massive, ten-foot canvas caught my attention. In it, warriors whopossessed characteristics of different wild beasts ripped out the hearts of their foes.
I gawked at the brutality, and it cost me. Boom! I smacked into a maid cleaning an ornate side table. We both scrambled to save a teetering vase.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, backing off when she clutched the embellished glass to her chest. My nearness had caused enough chaos. I shot a swift, pointed glare to Buzz and Ponytail over my shoulder. They didn’t even pretend to help us.Thanks for nothing, guys.
“Oh nay, ma’am. I mean, nay, Mrs. Bruce. The fault is mine.” The twenty-something cutie executed a stiff curtsy, keeping her eyes downcast, which immediately filled me with guilt. “I shouldna’ have stood in your path.”
