“If you must do this, choose another male, any but a berserker! They’re animals, and I do not use that word lightly,” Lucia said, her eyes still haunted by her own encounter with a male nine years ago.

The man she’d thought she loved had been a monster in disguise, one who’d turned on her, harming her in unspeakable ways.

Regin had been right to worry—and to leave Aidan behind. If I’d been but a single day later …

“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 …”

Yet this only alarmed Lucia. “An insatiable beast lurks within him, one that wants only to rut and conquer and possess. I hope to the gods, for your sake, he’s not tried to leash it for nearly a decade.”

“I am going to him,” Regin said simply as she turned toward the stairs. Her mind was made up. She wasn’t one to debate things with herself. She rarely pondered, never mulled. She acted.

Lucia sighed, following her down to the front entrance. “Then for once, be circumspect.” At the door, she handed Regin her hooded cloak. “Survey the situation before you stride into his army’s camp as if you own it. Promise me.”

“Very well.” Regin shrugged into the cloak, then stepped outside, glancing at the darkening sky. A spring storm neared. “Wish me luck,” she said cheerily, leaving Lucia to pluck her bowstring with disapproval.

Regin set off across the countryside, hurrying through melting ice fields into the forest. She was so eager that she easily outpaced the oncoming storm.

As she neared Aidan’s encampment, she heard women’s voices among the men’s. Camp wenches, as usual. What bawdy scenes would she come across this time?