Page 16 of Stolen By the Berserker

And something was missing. Something she needed to stop the constant ache deep inside her chest.

An image of a tall, blond, muscular Viking rose in her mind as something she needed, but she squelched it quickly. She did not need a man to feel complete.

Especially not a man who so easily believed she’d betrayed him.

Especially a man who was a thousand years old and immortal.

Especially a man she couldn’t stop thinking about.

Fuck.

As she jogged up the stairs to her dorm room, her hands finally warmed up. She strode down the hallway to her room, her steps slowing as she got closer. A tall blonde man slouched against the wall by her door. “Sten,” she whispered, a pang of longing expanding her chest. He looked up, and a broad smile stretched his lips.

“Cassie.” He moved toward her, but then stopped.

“You’re here,” she said, stating the obvious.

“I’m here,” he confirmed, his voice much deeper than she remembered.

“For me?” She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. Even worse, her voice sounded way needy.

He took a step closer and touched her hair. “Always for you. I want you.”

Cassie wanted him, too. So, so badly. She wanted him in so many ways, and in so many positions. She cleared her throat. “I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s better not to talk.” His accent sounded heavier than she remembered. She studied him closer. His eyes were the smoky gray, she remembered, but something wild and feral lurked behind them.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“No.” He pushed a shaky hand through his hair. “Can we go inside?”

She opened the door and invited him inside her small room. It had barely enough space for a single bed, a small desk, and atiny wardrobe. A tall, muscular Viking overcrowded the space spectacularly.

He closed the door and engaged the lock.

She threw her coat on the chair by the desk, sat at the head of her bed, and gestured for him to take a seat at the foot. He took his own coat off and then sat down. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees. His head hung down. “I’m not sure I can properly keep it together to explain this,” he gritted out between clenched teeth and then growled.

She scooted closer. “Are you okay?”

Sten jerked back, his eyes wide and filled with panic. “Stay back.”

What the fuck?She did what he demanded. “Are you sick?” she asked.

He chuckled mirthlessly. “In a way. Remember when I told you we weresjälsfrände, marked soulmates?”

She nodded. She’d thought about that often. Like, every day.

He sighed. “Every immortal Viking and Valkyrie has a berserker inside them, like an inner warrior spirit. Tapping into that beast makes us feel no pain on the battlefield. And when we fight together, we always know where our battle sisters and brothers are.”

Cassie could feel her eyes widening, but said nothing. She added this tale to her long list of Norse mythology stuff she eventually had to deal with.

Sten paused for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice had a deeper timbre and came out through clenched teeth. “If our berserker claims asjälsfrändeand is physically separatedfrom them, we lose control over the warrior spirit. We become unpredictable and might succumb to permanent battle fever, which makes us a danger to everyone around us.”

“Is that what’s happening to you right now?”

“Yes,” he growled. Something feral and wild peeked through his eyes again.

“Mine,” she heard in her mind, but Sten’s lips hadn’t moved.

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