Page 75 of Blood Red Rage

I pressed my hand to my chest. "Through the bond. When he's gone, sometimes it's like someone pours rage straight through my veins. Then he comes back and he's holding me so tightly I can barely breathe." My voice cracked.

"He thinks he's failing me."

Runa squeezed my hand. "He isn't."

"I know that."

"He doesn't."

"No."

We sat quietly. Then I looked at her. "What if this makes it worse?"

"It might." That wasn't the answer I'd wanted.

She smiled gently. "But it might also make it better."

I frowned. "How?"

"Because right now Viking has nowhere to put all of that instinct except into hunting." She leaned closer. "Bryn, berserkers need anchors." My stomach tightened. "You are already his."

"I know."

"A child?" Runa's expression softened in a way I'd rarely seen. "That gives him something else. Something living, something hopeful."

Hopeful. The word hit me harder than it should have, because there hadn't been much hope around here lately. There were only security briefings, weapons, guards, blood, Ceasar, Malakai, whispers of war. Maybe a baby wasn't more pressure, maybe it was proof there was something after all of this, something worth reaching.

Runa continued quietly. "And whether it calms him or sends him into full protective lunatic mode, he deserves to know."

I groaned. "He'll lock me upstairs."

"Probably."

"Runa."

"I'm not going to lie to you."

"I'll never see daylight again."