Berserker Novels & Stories

Enyo Burnside “Alpha Clayton Blackridge, welcome to my Pack” Hadeon says to my mate with a grin, holding out his hand to Clay. Clay looks at it then at me, before taking his hand. “Alpha Hadeon, I presume “ Clayton says, Hadeon smiles as he takes Clay’s hand then turns back to me. I notice the amulet that hangs around his neck, the strange coloured stone almost looks like it’s moving, swirling a green/blue as if it’s alive. I notice a smaller version hanging around both the necks of the two women.

“Did you feel that?” Before Lyra could answer, the wall behind them groaned — and shattered. A monstrous wolf exploded through the stone. But it wasn't a regular wolf. It was a thing. Twice the size of any werewolf. Eyes glowing red. Mouth dripping black ichor. Chains dragged behind it, melted into its flesh. Nyra screamed. Riven sprang up, blades drawn. “*What the hell is that?*” Lyra shouted. “A berserker,” Riven snarled. “Celeste’s pet.”

They would not take us again. Ryu stepped in front of me, shielding me with his body, his snarl deep and monstrous. His transformation wasn’t just physical—it was mythic. His fur shimmered with both Alpha dominance and ancient magic. His muscles rippled with raw power, veins pulsing with a berserker rhythm that dared any man to cross him. "You want to see a beast break?" he growled at the approaching guards, his voice no longer human, no longer sane. "Then try and take her from me again."

His voice was a low, deep rumble in the morning air. "I am," I said, my voice just as flat. "The black one," he said, patting the neck of the beast on his left, "is a high-strung, ill-tempered, murderous bitch. Her name is Hela. She will try to kill you." I just stared at him. "The one on the right," he said, patting the other, "is a high-strung, ill-tempered, murderous bastard. His name is Fenrir. He will kill you."

"Drop him, you piece of sh*t. Now." Joshua’s voice didn't shake. It was a flat, metallic rasp that cut through the wet sounds of the swamp. He stood ten feet away from the massive, grey-furred Berserker. The rogue was a nightmare of matted fur and scars, his claws buried deep in the meat of Richard’s throat. Richard was pinned against a rotted cedar stump, his heels digging uselessly into the mud. He couldn't shift. The silver-laced saliva from the rogue’s bite had locked his joints, leaving him a gasping, human target.

They locked onto the Berserker. Viggo did not retreat. He roared, a guttural sound that rattled my chest cavity. He leapt into the air. His biceps swelled, the tendons in his neck distending as he swung his warhammer. He aimed for the armored shoulder. He connected. The sound was a deafening, metallic ring—like a church bell struck by a projectile. The Barzil-steel dented. The machine staggered, its gears whining in a high-pitched mechanical protest.

She could feel the cold, viscous dark energy coiled around the wolf core in his chest, feeding on his rage like a parasite. “FIGHT!” The referee slashed his flag down and scrambled backward, desperate to stay out of the line of fire. “DIE!” Barton roared, a sound more beast than man. He skipped all pretense of a warm-up and activated his berserker form the second the words left the referee’s mouth. His massive frame moved with impossible speed. A fist wrapped in earth power tore through the air straight for Eira’s face. The force behind that punch could have crushed the skull of a high-ranking ironhide rhino.

He simply advanced, heavier than the others, his presence forcing space around him as if the fight itself adjusted to accommodate it. “Here we go,” Hayes muttered, bracing properly now. The first hit landed with real force. The impact slammed into his shield and carried through it, forcing him back as the strain travelled straight through his arms. “Jesus,” Hayes hissed. “My arms have gone numb.” Hayley pushed more into him, but even that didn’t fully stabilise the damage. The berserker didn’t slow down. He stepped in again, faster this time, the weapon rising and coming down with intent.

Points for me, I'm scoring high here. "Tha' it," I hear him mutter angrily before AJ goes flying out of the line altogether with a force that should never ever be used on a girl. I'm so tired of people like Oliver and Bex. Why do they have to exist? Summoning the 'Landon' in me, I act on instinct alone. I immediately turn around and land a solid punch on the jerk's face, just about breaking my fist in the process -- I'm a gentleman until pushed over the line. I'm not the fighting type but this guy had it coming.

"Berserker? What is it?" "The warrior in Old Norse mythology has very wild characteristics. In the sense that he can kill very cruelly without the slightest mercy." This time Kay explained. Kim's lips opened listening to Kay's explanation. Then she shuddered between horror and enthusiasm. "Looks like he's an attractive target. I'm sure this time Kay will give a ten on a handsome, sexy and dangerous man." Kay shook her head and said, "No. Refuse the mission, Kyra." "Refusing this mission? But it's a big mission, Kay." Kyra didn't like her sister's refusal.