Chapter Eleven

Damrion

" I may never let you out of my sight again, ást-meer ," I murmur, stroking my hand along the softness of Abigail's belly as she lays curled in my arms, sweat and cum drying on our skin. "Adriel was beside himself with worry for you."

"We both were, ljúfr ," Adriel rumbles, his lips sliding down my neck as his hand tangles with mine in her hair. His body presses against mine from behind, his heat a familiar weight I've never forgotten.

Abigail lifts her head, her expressive blue eyes seeking out mine. She stares at me for a long moment before slowly turning to look at Adriel.

"You're really at peace," she whispers, awe in her voice.

" Ja ," Adriel murmurs, reaching over me to squeeze her round hip. "We are, little seer."

After 2500 years, he's finally forgiven me. The Gods were destroyed long ago—cut down in the same war that destroyed Alfheim—but I say a silent thanks anyway. He's here, in my bed, and she's in my arms. If the human heaven exists, it's no match for this.

Curiosity glints in Abigail's eyes. "What happened between you while I was gone?"

"We worked it out between us," Adriel says, avoiding her gaze. Guilt flickers down the bond between us, and I know what he's thinking—we found solace in one another while she was in hell.

I feel his shame settle in the pit of my stomach.

Abigail must feel it, too, because she reaches for his hand, twining their fingers together. "Look at me, Adriel," she demands softly.

He reluctantly lifts his head.

"The two of you are bonded. I will never hold that against you," she says, conviction ringing in her voice. "I don't feel jealousy when it comes to the two of you. I never have. I'm not angry that you found comfort in one another. I never will be. All I've ever wanted is for the two of you to make peace with each other. If you found your forgiveness in each other's arms, I'll thank the Gods that you did."

She squeezes his hand, her gaze flickering to mine. "You're allowed to desire each other. You're allowed to love each other. You're allowed to touch each other. I want that for us—for all of us. Our bond isn't a prison; it's freedom. I won't make it one or allow the two of you to make it one, either. Don't regret what's between you. I never will."

Gods. I don't know what I ever did to deserve a Valkyrie like her or how I could ever possibly deserve one, but she's perfect. I adore her in ways I can't even begin to express. There's a lightness in my heart that's never been there—a sense of rightness, as if the purity of her soul anchors mine. I know Adriel feels it, too. With the bond singing between us, he's in less pain than ever.

A blush creeps over her cheeks, her gaze darting from ours before she finds her courage and meets our gazes again. "Besides, I think it's beautiful when the two of you are together."

Adriel's single eye widens in shock, his scar pulling taut over the other. When she smiles at the two of us, I have a feeling my expression matches his.

"I'm a Seer," she says. "Do you think I haven't seen the two of you together before today?"

"I..." For the first time in centuries, Adriel gapes open, as if this is something he's never considered.

"Regardless, Valkyrie," I murmur, cupping her cheek. "We belong to you, and you to us. Unless we're all together, we won't be."

"Agreed," Adriel growls.

Abigail narrows her eyes on us, less pleased with this decision, but it isn't hers to make. It's ours, and we've already made it. Maybe once, before she came into this world, we could find pleasure in one another's arms with no thought of anyone else. It's not like that now.

She is the center of all things.

We are what we are because of her. Without her, there is no bond between us. There never would have been. She belongs in our arms. For us to find pleasure, she must. It's what the bond demands of us. It's what we demand of ourselves. She doesn't have to understand it. Adriel and I do.

What happened between us when she was gone was grief and healing. It was forgiveness and apology. It was me on my knees, admitting to 2500 years of shame. It was him with his back against the wall, releasing 2500 years of pain. And it didn't feel right to either of us because she wasn't there.

Without her, nothing feels right.

"War and death aren't the only things I see," she whispers after a moment. "I don't just see the future, either. I see the past, too." She meets my gaze, her blue eyes swimming with empathy. "I saw the day you thought you lost Adriel." Her gaze flickers to him. "And I saw you in that place, Jotunheim ." Her brow creases, sorrow flowing down the bond. "I've seen so much of the grief and pain between the two of you. Even before I met you, I saw it."

Her words pierce my heart, pure fucking misery flowing through me. She's felt our pain for so long. She's hurt with us for longer than we even knew.

Faen .

"I'm a coward," I rasp, shame and guilt boiling through me. "I've fucked up everything. I've hurt both of you over and over. I never meant to do it, but I did it anyway, didn't I?" My body trembles with the force of the emotion ripping through me. "How am I supposed to forgive myself for what I've done to the two of you?"

"By loving us," Abigail whispers, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "You forgive yourself by letting yourself love us, Damrion."

"And by letting us love you," Adriel says, pressing his lips to the back of my neck. "You're worthy, formaer."

I nod, my throat tight with emotion, as their belief in me and their love for me pour down the bond, and I feel for myself just how worthy they both find me. There is no doubt, no shame, and no blame. Adriel has forgiven me. And so has Abigail.

"I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to both of you," I rasp. "I will never let you down again."

"You never let me down, Damrion." Abigail flings her arms around me, hugging me tight. "I love you.

I squeeze her to me, pressing a kiss to her brow before she stretches across me, flinging her arms around Adriel. "I love you too," she says, the same fierceness ringing in her voice.

We clutch her between us, sharing a look over her head.

Gods. She's extraordinary.

She settles between us, sighing with contentment. We lay there for long moments, simply holding her before I feel compelled to speak again.

"We need to talk about what happened, ást-meer ," I say gently. "You went with them willingly. We need to know why. No more secrets."

She sighs, tensing in our arms. "I didn't have a choice, Damrion. If I didn't go, you were all going to die trying to save Tori. I saw it. The only way to save you and Adriel—to save everyone—was to let them take me."

A low growl rumbles in Adriel's throat as she confirms what we already guessed—she saw what was going to happen. And she willingly let it.

"Don't be angry with me," she pleads. "You would have done the same to save my life."

" Ja ," he agrees, his anger tightly leashed. "But that's our right, Valkyrie."

"It's mine too," she argues.

" Nei . We are sworn warriors of Valhalla, pledged to protect the Valkyrie. You are not. And it's not us they're after. It's you."

"Yes, and I know what's at stake. I know what we're facing. And I know that I need both of you to survive it." Her voice cracks. "Without you to anchor me, they'll win."

Adriel meets my gaze over her head, lifting her into his arms as he sits up. I sit upright, too, not liking the sound of any of this.

"What do you mean?" he growls, clutching her against his chest as if he expects them to burst through the door and try to tear her from his arms.

"What do they want from you? What do you know, ást-meer ?" I ask, cradling her face between my palms, forcing her to look at me. "The time for secrets is long past. You have to trust us with what you know, or we can't protect you."

"I'll tell you," she whispers, fear flickering at the edges of the bond. "But we need to gather the others first. They should hear it, too."

It takes Adriel fifteen minutes to rouse everyone and get them downstairs. They gather at the table, bleary-eyed and exhausted. Stephan is the last one to join us, hurrying through the door, still shoving his arms through the holes of his shirt.

"What's this about?" Malachi grumbles, scrubbing a hand down his face. I don't think he's slept at all. He's too worried about his Valkyrie.

She didn't wake at all yesterday. We don't know the last time she was awake or why they've kept her so heavily sedated. Do they have reason to fear her power, or are they just that cruel? Until the drugs wear off and she rejoins the land of the living, we won't have those answers.

It's driving Malachi mad.

Abigail sits between me and Adriel, her hands clasped with ours. She looks so young and so tiny between us, like a little doll, her head barely reaching our chests. But there's a strength in her that few possess.

I've seen warriors break under less strain than she's under. She's been tormented and tortured, shown things no one should ever see. She's fought and survived, and still, she retains every ounce of Light, shining it into the world like a beacon.

I'm not simply in awe of her. I am enthralled by her—her strength, her grace, her beauty, her fierce spirit, and the way she clings to the Light, never deviating, never failing. If the Valkyrie we fought beside for millennia could see her, they'd weep tears of joy. She was worth their sacrifice. They all were.

She exhales a breath, glancing at me and Adriel.

I nod, quietly encouraging her to say whatever it is she's been keeping from us.

"I think I met the Forsaken in charge," she says quietly. "He was the one they took me to when they took me through the portal."

"Why do you think he was in charge?" Dax asks.

"Because I've seen him in my visions before." She pauses. Swallows. "And I burned him with my Light, but he didn't die. He didn't burn at all."

Stunned silence ripples through the room, everyone staring at her. I pull her closer. So does Adriel.

Helvete .

For long moments, no one says a word. I don't think anyone knows what to say.

Eventually, Rissa finds her voice. It trembles. "There's a Forsaken we can't kill?"

"Yes." Abigail nods, licking her lips nervously. "And I think he knows how to sever the bond between mates." Her gaze flickers to Adriel and me, worry creasing her brow. "He tried to sever mine."

I pull her onto my lap, horror surging through me. Adriel growls, a dangerous, menacing sound—one I've heard a thousand times before. Right before he rips through a battlefield like a deadly storm, killing everything he touches.

I place my hand on his arm to steady him.

Malachi slams his hand down on the table, the impact causing Abigail to jump and cry out softly. "Impossible!" he growls, automatically rejecting the possibility. But I see the fear flickering in his eyes—the worry for the mate he just discovered. "There's no way they can sever the bond. If he told you that, he lied like the soul-damned bastard he is."

"Is it impossible?" Abigail asks, refusing to back down. Malachi is three times her size, but she doesn't shrink from him. She shrinks from no one. "I just met a Forsaken who doesn't burn, Malachi. One who has spent months messing with my visions. If he can do all of that, who knows what else he's capable of doing?"

Malachi's mouth works as he struggles to come up with a rebuttal. Eventually, he realizes he has none. He falls quiet, his expression troubled.

"We can argue about what he can or can't do later," I say. "I'd like to know what they want from my mate."

"Agreed," Adriel growls.

"At the moment? The last remaining shards of the Bifrost." She hesitates for a second and then sighs. "But that's not their end goal. They want my obedience."

"What does that mean?" Adriel's voice drops two octaves.

Abigail hesitates, glancing at everyone around the table—Tori and Reaper at the far end next to Stephan, Dax and Rissa with their arms looped together, Malachi with his brows still furrowed. She meets everyone's gazes, forcing them to look at her—to see her.

"Aside from your Valkyries," she says, her gaze flickering to Malachi and Stephan—the latter of who goes slack-jawed in response—"what I have to say can never leave this room. If it does, we'll fall, and so will the nine realms. I've seen it."

"You have our silence, Valkyrie," Dax says without hesitation.

Everyone nods their agreement except Stephan, who still looks battle-shocked by Abigail's revelations. But if there's a warrior in this realm worthy of guarding a Valkyrie, it's him. Their blood runs strong in his veins.

Reaper nudges him. He glances up and notices everyone watching him.

"Agreed," he rasps. "They'll have to kill me before I reveal a word, Valkyrie."

Abigail exhales a breath, her hand fluttering in mine. "There are only two possible outcomes in this war. The paths we take and the decisions we make matter more than you know, but no matter our decisions, they will lead to one or the other. Either we destroy the Forsaken, or they destroy everything."

This, we already know. Most of it, anyway. I suppose we all hoped that our choices would tip the scales, give us different paths to success. But the Norns weave where they will.

"You asked what they want," she says, glancing at me. "They want my visions to guide them to success."

A chill races down my spine, my heart pounding like a drum calling us to war. How many times have her visions guided us to success? How many times have they saved our lives? The thought of that power in their hands is terrifying.

"Are you saying they want to use your visions against us?" Malachi asks.

"No. I'm saying they want to use me against you," she says, her voice so soft it barely carries. "If you know the future, you can change it. That's why I guard it so carefully. There are things we can't afford to change, things that will guarantee their success. And if they succeed, if I give them what they want, they'll win. There will be no stopping them." She swallows hard, trembling on my lap as her gaze flickers to Tori and Rissa. "There will be no stopping us."

"Us?" Tori whispers.

Abigail grips my hand, clinging as if I'm a lifeline. She clings to Adriel the same way. "If I give them what they want, they gain a foothold on my soul. I fall to the Dark." Her voice shakes. "And if I fall, I take the Valkyrie with me. They won't destroy the realms. We'll do it for them. That's what I've seen. That's how they win."

Faen .

They aren't after the portal, at least not entirely. They're after the power of the Valkyrie...and they intend to use my mate to get it.

" Nei ," I growl, fear and rage warring for dominion. "That will never happen."

"It could," Abigail says softly, turning to place her palm against my cheek. "I've seen it, Damrion. If I ever tell them what I've seen, even a piece of it, they win." Tears well in her eyes. "We'll deliver every single soul right into their hands, and I'll be the one who made it happen. I'll kill us all." She shivers, a tear sliding down her cheek. "That's what they want from me. To claim my soul and turn me into a monster."

Adriel has his arms around her in an instant, offering her his strength. " Nei , Valkyrie," he breathes. "We will not allow that to happen. Your soul is safe with us." His voice is fierce, but I feel the fear he's desperately trying to hide from her.

The same fear flows through me. Abigail, Rissa, and Tori are the three most powerful Valkyrie we've ever seen. We don't yet know what the other two are capable of doing. But we do know that, together, they're the most powerful weapon the realms have ever seen. In the hands of the Forsaken, that weapon would be catastrophic.

We wondered what task was before Abigail that required two warriors tied to her soul to guard it. Now, we know. If she falls, the entire fucking universe falls. She and her sisters will become the Dark's own personal ?ndnysa —Soulseekers. And instead of ferrying souls for the Light as Valkyrie have always done, they'll ferry them straight to their destruction.

And now, there's a Forsaken who doesn't burn. One who says he can sever the bond between mates—the same bond that protects her soul. She's never been in more danger than she is now. And Gods help me, but I don't know how to protect her.

She rests her head against Adriel's. He brushes the tears from her cheek with a shaking hand. I hold them both, praying to any God still listening for the strength to protect her—not because our lives depend on it, but because hers does. She's too pure, too perfect to ever fall to the Dark. We can't allow it. For her sake, we cannot.

Somehow, we have to find a way to ensure she does not fall.

Abigail pulls back after a moment, slowly putting herself back together. She takes a breath before turning to face everyone else at the table. Dax has Rissa clutched in his arms. Reaper looks as if he's considering fleeing with Tori. Malachi and Stephan both look sick.

"There's something else," she says, exhaustion whispering in through her though she tries to hide it. Adriel hears it, too, and glances at me. I give him a nod. As soon as we're finished here, she's going to rest.

"What is it, Valkyrie?" Malachi asks.

"We need to prepare for war because the Forsaken have an army," she says. "What we've faced is nothing compared to what's coming." Her gaze lands on everyone before coming back to me. "I don't know when they're coming, but they are coming."

The room falls silent, the gravity of her statement settling over us. Anticipation thrums through every warrior at the table, coiling like a spring. We haven't felt anything like it in three hundred years, but it's so familiar I nearly smile.

War.

This is something we know. Something we were born for. Our blood, sweat, and tears soak more battlefields than the Forsaken can even comprehend. If they think we'll die easy, they're wrong.

" Ymirs frosteistna , let them come," Malachi growls, gently pounding a fist on the table. "They'll die where they stand."