Dreams of a Dark Warrior (Immortals After Dark, #10)

by Kresley Cole

Hear this tale, the legend of Aidan the Fierce and Reginleit the Radiant One, a pair of lovers both bound and cursed by fate.

“Berserkers are grim, covetous, and possessive, savage when faced with the loss of something that belongs to them. They are obsessed with war and intercourse—they think of nothing else.

“Sometimes I don’t think you have the sense to be afraid when you should.” Regin had interpreted that to mean, “You have no sense of fear, oh, great Reginleit.”

For some reason, his dismissal of the buxom brunette gladdened Regin.

She leapt atop a table to her right, then bounded back to the left in front of him, raking her claws across his chest. Gods, the feel of rending flesh . . . what need have I for a sword?

“ ‘Eyes like amber cast in sun, skin and hair of firelit gold. Formed to war, courage as none, beauty to behold.’ You are Reginleit the Radiant.”

“Brightling, you are a very long way from home.”

“She is one of Wóden’s treasured daughters?” Shoulders back, Regin said, “Most treasured. Above all my sisters.” Except for Lucia. And Nïx. Likely Kaderin. No need for these mortals to know that perhaps she was not a favorite of his. At present.

He’d begun to look at her with a peculiar intensity, different from the other men’s, more . . . protective.

“I have pledged my life to serve your father; you were born of his lightning. I could no more harm you than I could myself.”

A few berserkers sought to touch her “fair locks” or “alight skin,” but Aidan’s hand tightened over her shoulder, his eyes blazing even brighter. He cast the men a baleful look and they all retreated without another word, their faces paling.

“Whatever is your question, warlord, the stars will not answer you.” He peered down at her with those intense gray eyes, rekindling her ridiculous urge to sigh. “Mayhap they already have.”

“I will do everything possible to reunite her with you.” Regin blinked up at him. “Because you serve Wóden?” “Nay.” He rose to pace, running his hand over his mouth. “I do this because we will serve each other.”

“There is no easy way to say this. Reginleit, when you are grown, you will become my wife.”

“I’ve heard tales of your kind. You’re stronger than other mortals, faster. And you’re all possessed by the spirit of a beast. The snarling, the fighting, the possessiveness—all the traits of a lean bear in winter.”

And the beast in me sensed its mate, rousing inside me from your very first words. I thought you would be older when we met, but I feel fortunate just to have found you.”

“I’m to sit there and wait for you? What if another mortal decides I’m to be his chattel instead?” His hands clenched. “You are meant for me alone,” he said in a strange tone.

“Reginleit, you will not know another male.” His gaze held hers. “I consider us wed from this moment on.”

Regin thought of her own barely budding chest. For the first time in her life, she felt lacking. And mayhap jealous.

’Twas Regin the stubborn, mad mortal wanted to wed. She cast the wench a smirk.

“There is another reason . . . .” “Tell me.” His voice gone gruff, he added, “You should choose me because . . . I will love you, Reginleit.”

“When I’m grown, others will vie for my hand.” “Undoubtedly. But you belong only to me.”

“I vow to you that I will stay as true to you as you do to me.” That would shut his mouth. He couldn’t go a week without a Birgit. “Every wench upon your lap means I sit upon a warrior’s. Every woman’s mouth you kiss is a man’s lips upon my own.”

His fierce gaze met hers, his eyes ablaze once more—as if the mere thought of her with another sent his ire spiraling.

“Then I give you my oath that I’ll not touch another. Now are you satisfied, little...

Regin would become a full immortal soon and, as she’d finally been warned, her desires were growing overwhelming. When she imagined fulfilling them, only one man’s face arose in her mind. Just as Aidan had predicted, she needed him now.

Regin had often heard tales of her berserker. He was little closer to his gift of immortality, having spent more time searching for her than for battles to win.

He believes that he alone will possess you. Like some . . . some thing, some object. He will never let you go!” “Then he will not have me to begin with. We will make a bargain for three months, or for nothing.”

“I cannot choose another male. Else break an oath.” It seemed her brash words from all those years ago had come back to haunt her. “I vowed to Aidan that I would be as faithful to him as he was to me. Lucia, rumors hold that he’s forsaken all others. If ’tis true . . .”

Perhaps Aidan had a bedmate this very night. The thought made her claws straighten with aggression. He vowed to me. Yet though she would feel betrayed, her desires were growing so intense that she might just toss the woman away and take her place.

Forget this obsession. You think of nothing but her.” “And can you blame me? Imagine the woman she would be.” He gazed up at the cloudy sky as if picturing her at that moment, and Regin’s heart clenched again. Then Aidan faced Brandr. “Nay, do not imagine her.”

Slowly, he turned to her. With a shaking hand, he reached for her cloak. She didn’t think he even realized he spoke aloud: “Be her, be her, gods, let it be her.”

“Has there been another, Valkyrie?” His wild eyes were seething gray. “Tell me! The beast in me stirs. It can’t share its mate. I can’t share my mate.”

“I was true to you, Valkyrie!” The rune stone began to crack under his assault. “I will slaughter any who’ve touched you . . . .”

“You came to me,” he repeated hoarsely. “To your man. Reginleit, you make my chest bow with pride.” His lips curled. “And my shaft swell. I’m greedy to sample these generous new curves you’ve brought me.”

“I want more of you. I want eternity.” “What are you speaking of?” “If I deflower a Valkyrie before wedding her, I will never earn ohalla. Wóden would never gift me with it.”

“With your small height and Valkyrie speed, you should be fighting with two short swords. I could teach you how.”

“And, brightling, know this . . .” His tongue flicked out to lick drops from her. “I vow to you now, I will be your last lover.”

“I will give you three months, warlord. You have three months to win me.”

your heart will be mine in two.”

Because once she’d learned how to handle her stormy berserker—knowing when to tease him, when to claw him, when to draw him into her arms and murmur, “Shh, be at ease, warlord”—life with him had been surprisingly gratifying.

“Remember those years ago when I vowed I would love you one day? I told you true.”

“I want babes with you—berserker sons and Valkyrie daughters.” He’d raised his head, gazing at her with clear gray eyes. “Give them to me one day?”

“They tried to keep me from you.” He backed her into the table, cornering her, predatory.

“No one keeps me from you. Not immortals, not men, not a god. Nothing can keep me from you.”

“I left a wake of death to return to you”—his hand shot out to cup her nape, yanking her close—“to make you mine in all ways.” He dipped his head to nip her breast, making her gasp. “Tonight I’ll ride your little body till you scream with pleasure.”

“If you knew my feats, the clashes I won to escape those vampires. Don’t you understand? Nothing can keep me from you! Nothing could touch me. With you as my woman, I feel immortal already.”

“And you will wait for me. I do not ask this of you. I demand it.”

As she arched up to him, she knew she would wait forever. Something about this male had always drawn her, captivated her. She couldn’t explain it, but she was through fighting it. Love or not—this was her man and always would be . . . .

“I promise you eternity, Reginleit. And each day I will love you more than the one before—”