Bonded to the Berserkers

Ulf

Ulf

Everywhere I looked, Berserkers carried women out of the abbey. The raid was almost complete.

Thorbjorn? Rolf? I reached out to the leaders of the raid using the pack bonds. Last I’d seen, Thorbjorn was headed down the hall after a little blonde waif, his warrior brother, Rolf, in wolf form by our side.

Ulf? Did you get out? This from Rolf.

We found our flower. I reported. Haakon has her.

Good. We scent evil here. Best you take your mate and run.

Happy hunting, Rolf, I said, just as a fierce wind shook the bond. Magic came tearing and snarling to fray the pack links.

I picked up my pace, racing to catch up with Haakon and the woman as a warning echoed down the bond.

The holy man did a spell to call the Corpse King. He is coming. Get out!