Chapter Four

Iwatch over my Valkyrie as the sun dips below the horizon and shadows slowly overtake the room. She sleeps peacefully now, her mind unhaunted by the terrors that plagued her throughout the long drive from Seattle. She did not sleep peacefully then, no matter how I whispered reassurances to her.

She was afraid, and I wanted to murder in her name. I still want to murder in her name. Every Forsaken who hurt her will die by my hand if they haven"t already fallen to Rissa"s Light. If their black souls don"t quiver in terror, they should.

After hours crouched in the same position, my muscles ache in protest, but I keep my vigil, guarding Tori in her sleep. The mate in me is torn. One half is rooted to her side, unwilling to leave. The other aches to know what my brothers discuss downstairs. Her safety depends on whatever decisions they make. I should be involved in making them.

Tori stirs in her sleep, and I lean closer to brush my lips against her forehead. She sighs and snuggles deeper into the blankets, still lost in peaceful dreams. I smile at the sight, warmth spreading through my chest.

She"s mine to protect now. Entire realms will fall to my lystst?l before I allow her to suffer the smallest harm. I"ve always been fierce in battle—one of the deadliest Fae warriors still living. I"ve always lived for death and killing. It"s what I knew—what I was good at. Once I pledged my allegiance to Valhalla, I knew there was no mate in my future. There wasn"t supposed to be. That"s the sacrifice we made to defend the Valkyrie. So I dedicated myself to war because it was my mission.

I have a new mission now: I live for my Valkyrie. My soul is no longer my own, but a mere offering to her. The Gods themselves have placed her Light in my keeping. I won"t fail. I"m her warrior now, and I"ll be every bit as fierce as I was on the battlefield. Moreso. Because what I protect now is even more precious.

A knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts. I lift my gaze from the woman in the bed to find Rissa slipping into my chamber.

"You"re needed downstairs," she whispers, speaking softly so she doesn"t wake Tori. "I"ll sit with her while you"re down there."

I hesitate, reluctant to leave.

"I"ll call you as soon as she wakes up," Rissa promises.

I give her a curt nod and rise to my feet, my muscles aching in protest. "I"ll be back soon, little Valkyrie," I murmur, brushing my hand through Tori"s hair. "Dream of me."

"Reaper," she sighs in her sleep. If my soul didn"t already belong to her, her sweet voice would have stolen it in this moment.

I reluctantly leave her side and make my way downstairs. As soon as my boots hit the bottom step, all eyes turn toward me. Stephan Anderson and Garrison Shaw, two of the Blooded—the human offspring of the Valkyrie—have joined my brothers at the kitchen table.

"Welcome, brother," Damrion says.

I nod in acknowledgment and take a seat at the table with the rest of my brothers, wedging my broad frame in between Dax and Adriel. "What did I miss?"

"Arguing," Malachi"s voice rumbles like distant thunder. "Hours of arguing."

Adriel fixes his dark eye on Malachi with a grunt. "You complain now, yet half of the arguing came from your side of the table."

"Ja, because this is madness." Malachi"s dark brows furrow, his braids clicking as he shakes his head in pointed frustration. "Trying to move four hundred human souls off this mountain with the Forsaken nipping at our heels? Faen i helvete!"

Fucking hell is right. It is madness.

"Ja," Adriel snaps. "And if we don"t move four hundred human souls, they die here."

Adriel is right, too. We can"t leave them behind. The Forsaken will kill them without remorse. And it won"t be an easy death. There will be no afterlife for them, no Helheim and a chance at rebirth. Their souls will be sacrificed, used up for dark, evil purposes. We won"t allow that.

"Enough." Damrion pounds his fist against the table, his voice cracking across the room like a whip. "The Blooded are our responsibility, and we won"t leave them behind. But we need to decide who comes with us to Seattle to continue the search, who goes north with Baelen, and who goes south with Rhistel."

"We"re splitting up," I say, though I"m not entirely surprised. Not even the Fae can hide four hundred people easily without causing a stir.

Damrion had always hoped this day would never come. Malachi would rather stay and fight than give up the home we"ve built where the portal spit us out when Valhalla fell three hundred years ago, but we aren"t stupid, and we are not unprepared. The Fae have safehouses scattered all around Washington, ready to shelter us should we need it. But there is no house big enough to safely house all four hundred of the Blooded who live here.

Baelen and Rhistel, two of the strongest Fae, lead a unit of warriors each. They were in charge of protecting Eitr in Damrion"s absence. They"re the most logical choices to help get everyone out safely. They know what it takes to lead.

"Tori and I should go with Baelen."

All eyes turn to me.

"I told you he wouldn"t like it," Malachi mutters.

My brows furrow, unease drifting through me.

"What wouldn"t I like?" I demand, my senses on high alert.

No one answers, their eyes shifting uncomfortably.

"Speak up," I growl, locking eyes with Damrion.

"Rissa and Tori are needed in Seattle," he finally says, meeting my gaze head-on before glancing away again.

Only Dax has the courage to hold my gaze without flinching, clearly sharing my apprehension about returning to the city with his mate. He knows what dangers lurk there. Twice, the Forsaken have tried to get their hands on his mate in the borders of the city. And we just rescued mine from their clutches.

"Nei. She is not going back to that place."

"We have no choice."

"There is always a choice, Damrion," I snarl back at him.

"Not this time. They are the brightest Lights we have." His voice softens. "There are two other Valkyrie out there—possibly three—who we have yet to find. We need their Light to guide them to us."

"We have Abigail!" I argue, grasping for another solution. One that doesn"t involve putting either Valkyrie back in harm"s way.

"Ja, but can we trust her visions?" Malachi asks, earning a vicious look from Adriel. Everyone knows how the one-eyed Fae feels about Abigail, even if he refuses to admit it. He loves her just as intensely as he loves Damrion. They"ve been at odds over her since she came to Eitr. One day, they"ll figure out that the soul splits three ways as easily as it does two.

Malachi ignores the savage look on his face, pressing on. "The Forsaken know about her and her Gift. They may even be responsible for some of her visions. She said herself that we can no longer trust what she Sees. But the Valkyrie have always been drawn to one another. If that"s true, Rissa and Tori are our best chance at drawing the others to us."

His words pierce me like a sword, driving home the severity of the situation. Rissa and Tori were spun out by the Norns themselves to face the Dark and everything it throws our way. But my job as Tori"s mate is to protect her above all else…even if it means letting the world fall. The need to do exactly that is overwhelming, overriding everything else. Perhaps, in a thousand years, I"ll know how to balance the conflicting needs. Perhaps if I"d had that long, I"d already know how to juggle my Fae instincts with her Valkyrie fate. But it"s been a single day. I know nothing but instinct.

It screams at me now, demanding I protect my mate.

My body tenses, ready for any threat that may come our way.

Kill. Kill. Kill.

Ja.I know that instinct too. It"s razor sharp, honed from millennia of use. Anything that comes for my mate will have to come through me. I"ll rip their flesh from their bones before I allow them to harm her.

"Reaper," Dax says. "Easy."

I shoot up from my seat, knocking over the chair. A surge of scorching hot rage courses through my veins, fueled by the Light within me. I reach for Magn, the source of our power, letting it flood through me.

"Faen!" Dax shouts.

The urge to kill and maim screams louder, growing stronger.

I realize a second too late that the rage boiling through me doesn"t stem from the need to protect Tori from whatever waits in Seattle. It stems from what she feels right now. Something is wrong.

The realization barely hits before her mind opens to me on a piercing scream of terror. It rips through the house, reverberating off the walls.

Ah, Gods. She"s so afraid and in so much pain. It"s excruciating.

Every fiber of my being trembles with the desperate desire to rip apart whatever is hurting her.

Kill. Kill. Kill.

My brothers leap to their feet, chairs knocked askew. But I"m already running, my feet pounding across the wooden floor as I fly up the steps in a race to get to Tori.

"Tori! Valkyrie!" I nearly rip the door off the hinges as I plow through it. My knees threaten to buckle at the sight of my mate thrashing on the bed as if she fights for her life even in her sleep.

"Reaper!" Rissa cries, eyes wide in her pale face. "She just started screaming."

I cross the room in two steps, landing on the bed beside Tori. The lystst?l in my hand dissolves. It"s not needed for whatever enemy hurts my mate now. My body brackets hers as I drag her into my arms. She"s still screaming, her face twisted in a mask of terror.

"Tori," I whisper, trying to break through whatever nightmare has taken hold of her. "Valkyrie. I"m here."

Her screams intensify, driving sharp claws straight into my heart.

I hold her tighter, bringing her closer to my chest.

"Wake up, little Valkyrie. I"m here and you"re safe now," I say, trying to ground her with my voice.

She flails against me for a few seconds longer before finally going limp in my arms. Her screams quiet to ragged gasps for breath.

I stroke her hair back from her face, crooning to her. "You"re safe, solsken. You"re safe. I"m right here."

Her eyes flutter open. Such raw fear reflects in the blue depths that it feels like a hammer blow knocking me flat on my back. And then she seems to recognize me. The fear slowly ebbs from her eyes, overwhelming relief sweeping in to take its place.

"Reaper," she chokes, tears dripping down her face. "Reaper."

"Shh."

"I-I saw…death…I saw…" she stammers, unable to form coherent sentences as she simultaneously tries to explain what she saw and push away the images still haunting her.

"You"re safe now. I"m here." I press gentle kisses to her forehead and cheeks, desperate to soothe her haunted mind.

"I s-saw you d-die. I felt it."

Ah, Gods. All this devastation for me? The day álfheimr fell was the last time I shed a tear. I didn"t even weep when the last Valkyrie"s Light was extinguished, and Valhalla fell to ruin. But my throat grows tight now.

This brave, beautiful little Valkyrie called my soul and taught my heart to beat again. She taught it to weep again, too. My hands—hands that have killed and destroyed without regret in the name of the Light—shake as I dry her tears.

The door whispers shut behind Rissa as she slips from the room, leaving us alone.

"I"m here," I vow to Tori. "Whatever you saw in your nightmare will not come to pass, little Valkyrie. I won"t allow it." My lips glide across her forehead. "Nothing will untangle my soul from yours."

"D-do you mean it?" She stares up at me, hope slowly replacing grief and despair in her eyes. "Are our souls really connected?"

"Ja." Now that I have my hands on her, I can"t bring myself to pull them off again. I hold her close, running my lips all over her face. My hands run up and down her arms and sides, trying to bring her comfort. And taking a little of my own.

My cock hardens despite myself.

I can"t help the reaction. It"s instinctive, as much a part of our bond as my need to protect her against all comers. She"s warm and vibrant in my arms, and this Fae loves the way she feels.

I"ve never had a mate. The Fae do not jump in and out of bed for a simple moment of pleasure. That isn"t our way. When we mate, it"s permanent, as unalterable as the sun. And no Fae oathbound to protect Valhalla has ever had a mate until Dax. We couldn"t keep our oath to Odin and protect Valhalla and the Valkyrie above all others when the bond between mates supersedes all else.

But my soul is entwined with hers now. She is my mate. And my body is eager to know hers, mate to mate. Nei, it"s not eager. It"s desperate. I want her spread out beneath me, lost in a sea of pleasure as I pound into her. That"s what this beautiful little Valkyrie should know—pleasure so intense it eclipses everything else.

"Why doesn"t that scare me, Reaper?" She tips her face up to mine, the question reflecting in her eyes as she studies me. Tears still tremble on her lashes. Even with them, she"s beautiful—a radiant star standing against the Dark. "Why don"t you scare me?"

"Because you know I belong to you, Valkyrie," I whisper. "My soul is yours to command. For as long as I have breath in my body, I will be yours."

A river of emotion flows through her sapphire eyes at my words—hope, awe, and fierce pride glimmering like tiny stars in their depths. A tremble passes through her. "I…" she stammers, trying to find words, but they seem to be stuck in her throat. Her lips part again, her breath hitching in the intimate silence between us. "Kiss me, Reaper," she finally whispers. "Please, kiss me."

A surge of desire roars through me, crashing against my self-restraint like a tidal wave. I groan, pulling her closer, desperate to fill her lips against mine. Even through my desperation, I fight to move slowly, trying to give her time to retreat, but she doesn"t falter.

I cup her cheek, brushing away the wetness from her lashes with my thumb. Her skin is like velvet under my calloused fingers. She shivers at my touch, but there"s no fear in her eyes.

"Are you sure?" I ask anyway, needing to hear her confirmation even though I feel her desire fluttering through the threads of our bond like the wings of a bird.

"Yes," she whispers with such sweet innocence. And such conviction. Fate may have been unkind to this Valkyrie lately, but she isn"t delicate. She"s as fierce as any of her ancestors who ever stood in Valhalla. And as steadfast.

My heart pounds like a war drum as I lean in. The faintest hint of honeysuckle clings to her skin and hair, sending my senses into overdrive. Her eyelashes flutter closed as my lips descend on hers. The kiss is feather-light at first—barely a whisper of contact. But at the taste of her on my tongue, we both go up like kindling. The raw intensity of it consumes us both.

She wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me closer as a soft sigh escapes her lips. I growl, my cock throbbing as I kiss her as if I intend to complete our bond with nothing but the intensity of my need for her. It courses through me, wild and uncontained.

Ah, Gods. I"ve never felt anything like it.

Her lips are sweet and pliant beneath mine, her kiss tinged with a desperation that matches mine. The bond amplifies our desire for one another, fueling our passion until we"re both breathless and dizzy with need.

I flick my tongue against hers, eager for every shiver, for every breathy moan. My hands wander over her body, memorizing every curve and dip as she sighs into my mouth. My mind flashes with images of all the ways I want to worship her body, to savor every inch of her skin.

My body is hers, every bit as much as my soul. It would be so easy to pull her down beneath me and get lost in her. She"s soft and sweet…the sweetest thing I"ve ever held in my arms.

"Reaper," she whimpers. "Please."

I know what she"s asking. I know what she wants. I feel her need pounding through her in a relentless wave. I shift her until she"s straddling my lap, her thighs spread wide around mine.

The heat of her sears my aching cock as she settles against my erection.

Her head falls back, a moan tumbling from her lips. She rocks against me, trembling in bliss.

I kiss a trail down her throat, tasting her delicate skin. One hand digs into her hip as I reach for her arms, needing as much contact with her as possible.

My hand slides down her wrist, my fingers gliding across the rope burns seared into her skin.

Reason returns in a painful rush.

It"s far too soon for the things I would do with this little Valkyrie.

We pull apart, panting and breathless.

"Forgive me, solsken." I rest my forehead against hers, trying to scrape together the frayed and tattered remains of my self-control. "I forget myself."

"M-me too." She sighs, her breath sweet as it touches my lips. "You make it easy to forget, Reaper."

I hear the quiet longing in her voice, the ache to forget the horrors she"s endured, even if only for a little while. She"s been through too much, and still, we ask for more. Still, fate asks for more. It"s unfair, especially for one so young. I"ve had lifetimes to grow accustomed to the heavy weight of duty and sacrifice, and it still chafes on occasion. She"s had only days, and we ask the impossible of her.

To save not only her world, but all worlds. To save not only her people, but all people. As the humans say, it"s bullshit. It"s complete and total bullshit.

I wrap my arm around her, cradling her against my chest. "Do you want to sleep more, solsken?"

"No," she says quickly. "I"m not tired."

"Then come." I stand with her in my arms, smiling down at her. "Let"s find you some clothes, and then I"ll show you how this Fae leaves the world behind when it"s getting on his nerves."

"The world gets on your nerves?" she asks, a tiny smile curving her lips upward.

"Nei," I admit, striding across the room, "but living with 166 other Fae does."

Her sweet laughter heals the wound her screams of terror carved on my heart.