Chapter Four

Damrion

" W here the fuck is my mate?" Reaper roars, driving his fist into the wall in the conference room. The wood cracks beneath the force of his blow, splintering.

"Reaper!" Rissa cries, leaping from the long table as blood immediately smears across the splintered wood from his damaged knuckles.

" Nei , Valkyrie." Dax grabs her before she can rush to his side, gently drawing her back into his arms. "Leave him be."

"But—"

" Nei ," her mate says, his tone firm.

Rissa sighs, her shoulders drooping. She slowly reclaims her seat, watching as Reaper's shoulders shake with the force of his grief. Tori is missing—vanished into thin air.

We suspect one of the Blooded warriors we invited into our counsel betrayed us. He opened a portal and carried her through while we were out searching for the Valkyrie Abigail saw in her vision. We've been betrayed. Worse, the Forsaken have access to portals. They can open them anywhere at any time.

My heart trembles with fear for Abigail.

I know Adriel shares my concern. I see it burning in his eye and stamped across his face. He's terrified for her.

"She's in Eitr."

Everyone glances toward the door to find Abigail standing in the entryway, watching Reaper. Even with tears shimmering in her lashes and her face pale and drawn, she's beautiful—like the dolls made of porcelain that humans cherish.

Her simple T-shirt skims her generous curves, hinting at the lush body beneath. She's soft and round everywhere, so warm and alive. My hands twitch, aching with the desire to feel her beneath them again, coming apart for me and Adriel as she did in the middle of the night.

She steps into the room, the harsh overhead light casting a halo around her fiery hair. Those striking blue eyes, always so round and expressive, hold a depth of wisdom far beyond her years. She's seen far too much death and pain, but she's still the brightest Light I've ever seen.

"You've seen her," Reaper rasps, spinning to face her, hope and desolation warring on his face.

Adriel and I share a look. Is this what she was hiding then? Is this why she was so upset last night? She knew Tori would be taken?

She shakes her head silently, holding out her hand. Only then do I notice the paper clutched between her fingers.

"I found this," she whispers.

Reaper grabs it, his eyes scanning over the paper. " Nei ," he chokes, his hands shaking as it flutters to the floor. " Nei ."

I lean down, snatching it up.

"What does it say?" Rissa asks.

My blood runs cold as I read it. Nei . Gods. They can't do this. They can't ask it of us. And yet...they are.

"They want me in exchange for Tori and the other Valkyrie," Abigail whispers. "If you turn me over, they'll let them go."

"No!" Adriel shouts, jumping to his feet. "No!"

Reaper falls to his knees, his head in his hands as I choke on fury. To save mine and Adriel's mate, I damn his. To save his, I damn mine and Adriel's. It's an impossible choice. It's no choice at all.

"We can't leave them there," Abigail says, tears slipping down her cheeks. "If it's my life for theirs, I choose theirs."

Adriel stalks toward her, his one eye wild. His pain flows down the bond between us, searing me. " Nei , Valkyrie. You don't get to make that choice."

"But—"

" Nei ," he snarls.

"He's right."

Everyone glances at Reaper. Tears fall freely down his cheeks. He doesn't try to hide them. If the capture of a mate by pure fucking evil isn't worthy of tears, what is?

"We won't trade one life for another, Valkyrie. Not even to save my mate." He hauls himself to his feet, his expression one of pure agony. "But I won't leave her to die alone. I'm going to Eitr. If I can't free her, I'll die at her side where I belong."

"Reaper, nei ," Malachi groans, the first words the normally talkative Fae has spoken in half an hour. The beads in his braids click as he shakes his head. "They'll kill you on sight."

"Then I die on sight," Reaper growls, rage simmering in his eyes. "But she won't spend a second longer there alone. I refuse to allow it."

Malachi sighs, his blue eyes falling closed before he hauls himself to his feet. "Then we die together, brother. I'm going with you."

Dax and Rissa share a look before Dax nods reluctantly.

"Us too," Rissa says, speaking for them. "You need my Light."

I sigh, making the decision that may damn us all. But there is no choice. We won't leave a Valkyrie to die. Not now, not ever. "We're all going," I say, my voice soft. "And we're bringing them home."

" Nei , not all," Adriel growls, turning that one wild eye on me. "Abigail is not going."

" Nei ," I agree. "She is not."

A piercing bolt of grief stabs me in the chest, coming from Abigail. Adriel feels it, too. We both turn to look at her at the same time. But before we even finish the turn, the sensation is gone, the bond between us masked yet again.

Faen . She's still hiding something.

"Stay safe," she whispers, backing toward the doorway. "I'll go let the others know."

Adriel and I bolt out the door after her, only to find her practically racing down the hall away from us.

"Halt right there, ást-meer ," I growl.

She stumbles to a stop, her head hanging low.

Adriel and I stride toward her.

"What aren't you telling us, Abigail?" he demands, crowding her against the wall with one hand on her hip to hold her in place.

I step up beside him, refusing to give her a single inch of space. "Talk to us, ást-meer ," I murmur, touching her cheek. "Tell us what you've seen."

"Nothing!" she cries, trying to shrug away from us. "I haven't seen anything."

"Liar." Adriel tips her head back, leaning down to nip her bottom lip in punishment for her untruth. "You're afraid of something. Tell us."

But commanding Abigail to speak is like trying to catch smoke. Neither cooperates. Neither listens. They both stubbornly do as they will, unaffected by our demands, our wills, and our wishes.

She guards her visions and the sanctity of the future as fiercely as any Valkyrie ever guarded the Veil. When the Norns chose her for this Gift, they chose well.

Instead of responding, she bites Adriel back.

Adriel growls, wrapping his hand around her throat as he kisses her fiercely. My cock grows hard as I watch his tongue duel with hers, taming hers into submission. She grips his shoulders, whimpering into his mouth.

He breaks from her lips with a curse, pressing her into my arms, one hand in her hair, craning her head back as if offering her lips up to me.

It's an offer I can't refuse.

I capture her lips with mine, my tongue delving deep. I taste Adriel's spice mingled with her sweetness, and my cock throbs.

She whimpers into my mouth, her body melting against mine.

"Listen to how sweet she sounds," Adriel groans, pressing closer to her. " Faen . Every time she whimpers, my cock aches."

"Mine too."

The sound of footsteps echoing down the hall pulls Abigail from our arms with a gasp. She slips from between us like smoke, staring up at us with those wide, expressive eyes, her lips swollen from our kisses.

"We're going to talk when we get back, ást-meer ," I growl, need and frustration churning through me. "No more secrets."

She blinks rapidly, but she isn't able to hide the fear reflecting in her blue eyes. Nor can she hide the single tear that escapes down her cheek.

"Be safe," she whispers. "Both of you." And then she turns and flees, her red hair streaming behind her like a banner of flame.

Adriel curses under his breath, his hands clenched at his sides. "She's still hiding something, Damrion. And whatever it is, she doesn't want us to know."

"I know." I sigh heavily, dragging a hand down my face. The heat of her lingers on my skin like a brand. "But we'll deal with it once Tori and the other Valkyrie are safe."

He scowls at me, clearly not pleased with my answer. But I don't know what else he'd have me do. We can only deal with one crisis at a time. And right now, freeing Tori has to take precedence.

"Who taught you to drive?" Rissa asks Stephan Anderson, one of the Blooded warriors who live and fight alongside us, as we careen around a sharp curve on the way back to Seattle hours later.

"I taught myself, Valkyrie."

"Well, I hate to tell you," she says with a sniff, sliding across the bucket seat into Dax, who grins and wraps an arm around her waist, "but you aren't very good at it."

Laughter erupts from the warriors in the vehicle as Stephan gasps in mock offense.

"Quiet before you wake my Valkyrie," Malachi growls, not even glancing up from the petite woman nestled in his arms—the Valkyrie we rescued from Eitr. She hasn't woken since we carried her out of there. Nor has Malachi let anyone else get close.

Tori and Reaper murmur quietly behind him, lost in their own world. Reaper hasn't let her out of his sight, either. He might not ever again. I can't say that I blame him.

I know what it is to feel as if you've lost a mate. I've been there with Adriel. Those memories still haunt me.

I close my eyes, leaning my head against the window, allowing their voices to wash over me. I'm weary, every inch of my body sore and aching. It's been a long day.

When you're immortal, you would think the passage of a single day would feel inconsequential, but most of the time, they drag on. Days like today are brutal.

Eitr was overrun with Forsaken and varulv. Rissa and Tori burned every one of them out of existence. But we have more questions than answers now.

And I'm more convinced than ever that Abigail is keeping secrets—dangerous secrets. When we get back to the safehouse, I intend to pry them out of her. I don't care about protecting the sanctity of the future anymore. I care about protecting her.

Tori confirmed that they've been tampering with her visions for months, intentionally sending her false flags to confuse what she sees. It's what we've feared. But I have a feeling she's always known.

Is this what she's been hiding? Is she afraid we'd turn from her if we knew?

I intend to get those answers.

But I can wait to pry my answers from her until after Adriel and I are able to wrap our arms around her again and reassure ourselves that she's safe. I already ache to feel her in them. I ache to breathe her in, to feel her lips against mine. To listen to her moan as Adriel kisses her.

I want nothing more than the two of them in my arms and in my bed where they belong. I'm not a selfish Fae. I'm just one desperate to hold his mates and remind himself that they're safe.

A sharp zing of emotion sears down our bond—fear so potent I can almost taste its bitter edge on my tongue. My eyes fly open as my mind grasps for the thread to trace it back, but it's gone before I can.

Faen . She's masked the bond again, hiding it from us. Until last night, I didn't even know that she knew it existed. Hiding it from her was, perhaps, the only thing Adriel and I have agreed on in millennia. But with her visions, we didn't want her to know that we felt her pain. She's fierce but soft-hearted, and she already has a crushing weight on her shoulders. She should not have to worry about us, too.

I press my hand to my chest, rubbing as worry slashes at me. I feel Adriel's gaze on me and glance in his direction.

"You felt it too, didn't you?" he asks, worry carving lines around his mouth.

I don't need to ask to know what he means. He shares the same bond with Abigail that I do. He felt it just as clearly as I did.

" Ja ," I murmur quietly. "I felt it."

Fear flickers in his eye, his scar standing out starkly against his pale skin as the lines of worry around his mouth deepen. My heart aches at the sight. Adriel fears nothing, but he fears for Abigail.

And who can blame him? If anyone understands the torment that awaits her if the Forsaken get their hands on her, he does. He spent years in Jotunheim, tortured almost to death, only to be brought back so they could begin again.

And it's my fault.

Without thinking, I reach out to comfort him, touching his hand. "We'll make her talk," I say. "Together."

Doubt flickers in his gaze as he stares at me. I can almost see the wheels turning in his mind as he tries to work out for himself if this is some trick instead of the olive branch I intend it to be. He trusts me so little.

Eventually, he nods before slipping his hand from beneath mine and turning his face away. He retreats back into stony silence—the same silence he wears like a cloak.

Guilt pricks at me, sharp and insistent. Gods. How did I let things become so twisted between us? How did we drift so far from what we once were?

Fighting with him is slowly killing me. It's been killing me for millennia. I went from thinking he died on the battlefield to learning that he was one of the warriors the J?tunn took hostage. I desperately wanted to go after him. But before we even had the city empty, álfheimr and the Fae fell. The warriors oathbound to Valhalla were all who remained.

No one believed the J?tunn had any reason to keep the hostages alive any longer. With our world in ruin and our people all but gone, there was nothing left for them to gain by keeping them alive.

And our numbers were too few—a race of millions, now cut to less than one thousand. I made the call not to send a rescue party. Risking the warriors we had left to recover bodies was a suicide mission I couldn't ask them to undertake, not when Valhalla and Asgard were still at risk.

I didn't know he was still alive, but I should have. And it fucking haunts me that I didn't. Every single day, I live with the knowledge that I left him there to die. He spent seven years in captivity, being tortured over and over again because I made the call not to send anyone.

Every time I look at him, I see the reminder of what I caused—the scars he bears because I left him there. And the physical scars aren't even the worst of it. He came back broken, a shell of the Fae he was before the war.

How am I supposed to forgive myself when he still wakes screaming at night? When he can't forgive me?

All I want is to fix it. I desperately want him and Abigail in my arms where they belong, but I don't deserve either of them. How can I ever? He is the best of the Fae, and she's the brightest Valkyrie the realms have ever known. And I'm the Gods-damned bastard who left him to suffer.

I don't trust myself with either of them.

But somehow, some way, we have to heal the rift between us. I can't keep hurting them—and I am hurting them. I see the sadness in Abigail's eyes when Adriel and I fight. I see the grief in his when he forces himself to keep his distance from her, afraid of hurting me. He wants to let himself love her fully, but he holds himself back because of me—because even though he hates me—he still tries to protect me.

It's not fair to either of them. My soul is theirs. For 2500 years, half of it has been Adriel's. And now, half of it belongs to Abigail, too. I don't know why the Norns chose me when I deserve neither of them, but my soul is theirs.

I'll do whatever I must to ensure their happiness. If I have to sacrifice my own so that Adriel finds the peace he deserves, so be it.

A sharp blade of terror lances through my soul half a second before Adriel's choked cry rips through the van. "No!"

I whip my head in his direction.

And I see what he's already seen. Flames billow from the safehouse where we left Abigail, black smoke pumping into the air. Every inch of the building is a blazing inferno.

The same surge of terror that ripped through him rips through me.

"Gods," I breathe, my voice shaking with fear. "Oh, Gods."

Warriors race around out front, carrying the injured to safety. But everywhere I look, there are bodies. Too many bodies.

What did you do, Abigail? Gods, what did you do?

Stephan squeals to a stop at the curb.

Adriel flings the door open, jumping out. I leap out behind him, racing toward the inferno. I can't think. I can't breathe. I don't know if it's Adriel's terror or mine clawing its way up my throat. It doesn't matter. All that matters is Abigail.

Please, Gods. Please, let her be safe.

Daric, a young Fae warrior covered in soot and ash, stumbles out of the chaos as Adriel and I reach him.

"What happened?" I demand.

"The Forsaken," the younger Fae growls, looking dazed. He's bleeding from a wound on his forehead. His jeans are covered in blood.

Adriel grabs ahold of him, snarling in his face, terror for Abigail overriding everything else. "Where is she?" he demands, shaking the younger Fae. "Where is Abigail?"

Daric flinches, and I know. Before he ever says a word, I know.

She's gone.

Adriel knows, too. His grief slams into me through the bond, threatening to drive me to my knees. "Nei," he chokes.

"I'm sorry, brother," Daric whispers. "We tried to fight them off, but there were too many of them. They took her."

My body goes numb as the words rip the breath from my lungs, leaving me gasping for air. The world tilts violently, spinning out of control.

Adriel stumbles backward, drained of color as shock and grief carve canyons of desolation across his face.

He collapses to the ground, an agonizing cry tearing from his lips. It hurts to hear it—but the pain rushing down the bond he forged between our souls 2500 years ago—the bond he's kept masked for most of that time—is even worse.

It feels as if he's dying, his soul being ripped apart piece by agonizing piece. I know precisely how he feels because mine is being shredded the same fucking way.

We failed her. Gods, we failed.

I hit my knees beside him, paralyzed by his pain. Crippled by mine. Every fiber of my being screams in agony as I watch him unravel before me, helpless to do anything.

I swore to protect them, and I failed them both. Abigail is gone—taken by those soul-damned monsters—and Adriel is breaking all over again.

I press my forehead to his, desperate to comfort him in some way even though there is no comfort to soothe this pain. "We will bring her back," I vow, fighting to breathe through the anguish. "I swear to you, we will."

"Please," he pleads, the first time he's asked me for anything in two and a half millennia. His voice shakes. He trembles against me. "Please, Damrion."

For millennia, I've kept my side of the bond masked, reaching out only in secret. But in this moment, I let him in, grabbing him with everything I am, trying to ground him. It's all I can offer him, the only comfort I have for him. I give it willingly, knowing it's not nearly enough. It'll never be enough.

"She's...she's not gone," Tori whispers from behind me.

"We won't let them keep her," Reaper growls to his mate, trying to soothe her.

Adriel whips his head in Reaper's direction.

"And what will you sacrifice to get her back?" he growls, his eyes narrowed on the massive warrior. But this isn't Reaper's fault. We made the best call we could to protect his mate. Had he known ours would be taken while we rescued his, he never would have allowed us to accompany him.

"Anything," Reaper vows anyway, bearing Adriel's grief without protest.

"We'll start scouting immediately," Malachi promises, his mate still drugged and oblivious in his arms. "We won't rest until she's back with us."

" Ja ," Dax agrees, holding Rissa as she sobs. "We will find her."

I cling to Adriel, hearing nothing as they make plans. All I can think about is Abigail, afraid and alone, needing me—needing us.

I feel like I'm in álfheimr all over again, losing Adriel all over again. Only, it's somehow worse this time around. Perhaps because Abigail is no warrior. Until recently, we didn't even know she was Valkyrie. We thought she was simply a powerful Seer.

She's had no training. She knows nothing about war or survival. And her captors aren't Giants. They're something even the J?tunn fear. Something so ancient and so evil they've been stricken from the record.

Something that's been trying to get their hands on her for months.

Nei .

They can't have her. Not her. Not today or any day.

"Find where they've taken her," I growl to Dax as he and Reaper pull me and Adriel to our feet to get us moving. "Now."