Free Savage Want (Wicked Wants, #3) by Annice Sands Page B

of us. Still no word on what was to be my fate. I could not worry too much about such things, as they were well out of my control.
    I watched Torsten move around in his little cell, dragging a length of chain behind him. He did not look at or speak to me. So intent were his gestures, I couldn't find the courage to call for attention from him. I only sat in the corner of my cell with my dirty arms wrapped around my knees. When I tired of watching Torsten, I let my eyes slide closed.
    Time passed. The moon glided to her peak in the sky and loosely-woven clouds slipped over her luminescent face. I dozed in a half-dream, mists swirling around my aether-feet as I walked the lands of Morpheus. A ticking sound nudged me back into the realm of consciousness.
    An owl, walking sideways in my window, large eyes dilated in the deep shadows, golden rings of irises catching the slightest light of the torch that burned outside Torsten’s cell. The owl bobbed its head and regarded me with an uncanny wisdom. Its feathered feet displayed talons, long and black.
    Torsten whispered a name across the way, and the owl flew to him, nimbly avoiding collision with any obstacle, to land on his outstretched hand. Torsten’s eyes met mine as he mouthed words to the bird that even I could not hear, then he released the creature. The owl passed back through the way it’d come, to fly out into the stars.
    Torsten smiled at me and pressed a finger to his lips.
    He began with a low hum, making strange sounds from his throat, not yet loud enough to wake the other prisoners.
    “What are you doing?” I asked, but he ignored me, his words louder, strange and deep.
    Beyond my window, what sounded like a pack of wolves howled.
    “I was not fully honest with you, Elena.” Torsten stood in the center of his cell, eyes aglow as he looked at me. “I am berserkin .”
    He smiled, his pupils wide like the owl’s. “I talk to animals. When the moon is right, I may use their power.”
    I rose to my feet, pressed against the corner of my cage. Torsten’s eyes were golden. The howls from outside were getting closer. Berserkin ? Had I not been seeing what I was, I’d never have believed such a thing. People infused with magic from the same animals they could call and use for various purposes. My heart gave a little jump as Torsten’s eyes rolled upwards. Beyond the walls of our prison, I heard terrible screams. Wolves, I was certain. Sweat trickled from my brow, but I felt cold in the presence of such an ancient power. Torsten’s eyes focused on me again.
    “You have nothing to fear.”
    “I know,” I started to say, but he cut me off.
    “No reason to fear me, no matter what, do you understand me, woman?”
    I frowned and pressed against the bars, my fingers clutching the cold metal. “What do you mean?”
    Torsten’s teeth must have been chattering, for his answer was shrouded in shivers. “Just stay out of my path when the time comes.”
    His breaths were sharp and loud through his nose and mouth, in a practiced manner. He stepped forward until he’d reached the door of his cell. His eyes burned like thin golden rings as he took the bars in his hands. Chills ran down my spine as he let out a growl unlike anything I’d ever heard. Outside my window, men ran and screamed. Voices high in terror, begged for mercy. The scent of fresh blood spilt in the air.
    A memory sprang to mind, from when I was still captive to the Northmen: The black wolf at Torsten’s camp.
    Had it been his eyes that watched me? The metal bars shrieked in protest as Torsten began to bend them, apparently intent to free himself amidst the chaos. Tendons and muscles stood out in his neck from the strain. He grit his teeth together like his beastly namesake and shoved the door free of its hinges.
    Torsten was loose.
    A bone-chilling howl pierced the near-freezing night air as Torsten stepped over the ruins of his cell door. His muscles were rigid and veins stood out on his arms. The