Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 41683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Dax shelters Rissa in his embrace, trying to protect her from the sight of her father's body in the living room, though she's already seen him there. She burrows into her mate, hiding her face in his chest. Leaving the man here is what he deserves, but it feels wrong. He may not deserve our respect, but she does. And so long as she still carries love for him, the Fae owe him just as much honor as we'd show our own dead.
"He'll have a Viking funeral, elskan-ljós. It is all we can do for him," Dax murmurs, nodding to Adriel as we step outside.
The one-eyed Fae sets the edge of his lyststål against a scrap of fabric sticking out of a bottle of alcohol. The scrap ignites with a quiet whoosh. Adriel holds it long enough to ensure it's burning properly, and then tosses it into the house. The bottle shatters, alcohol spilling across the carpet.
Within seconds, it ignites, the fire spreading quickly.
Rissa trembles in her mate's arms, but she doesn't cry.
A menacing snarl rips through the air as we descend the porch steps.
One massive varulv rushes at us, a feral savagery in its eerie yellow eyes. All around me, power hums as my brothers call their lyststål. They blaze to life in a fiery nimbus, ready to defend Rissa and the Valkyrie in my arms.
But the varulv stops suddenly, his eyes locked on Rissa. He recoils with a whimper, as if remembering the devastation she wreaked upon them just days ago in the forests when she killed hundreds of them. They won't forget her or her power anytime soon.
The massive hellhound turns and flees, slipping between two trees before disappearing into the shadows.
"Well," Malachi says with a wicked chuckle, spearing a glance over his shoulder at Dax's mate. "I guess they don't like you much."
"Darn," Rissa says, deadpan before stepping off the porch.
Dax moves to flank me while Adriel hangs back to keep an eye on our rear. We move swiftly and silently towards the van parked on the curb just a few feet ahead. Each step feels like treading on thin ice, but if there are any other varulv lurking in the shadows, they stay there.
I climb into the van, holding the little Valkyrie on my lap. Malachi tosses a blanket toward me, allowing me to wrap her in it to warm her. Worry coils in my gut when she doesn't even stir this time, but she's still breathing.
"We're taking you to Eitr," I tell her softly, not sure if she hears me or not. "A healer will see to your wounds."
Whether our home still stands by the time we get there…well, that's another matter, altogether. But regardless of whatever comes next, I'll find a way to protect this Valkyrie. She's mine. My mate. My destiny. I'll wage war against the darkest corners of the nine realms if that's what it takes to keep her safe. That's my vow to her.
Smoke curls from the roof and sirens rip through the air as we drive away from Rissa's father's house, racing back to Eitr.
Chapter Two
Tori
Unfamiliar voices whisper all around me, pulling me toward consciousness. I fight it for as long as possible, unwilling to relinquish the peace I've found in sleep. For the first time in what feels like years, I'm warm and comfortable. I don't relish giving that up for reality when reality promises nothing but more pain.
There's been a whole lot of that since I was kidnapped from my bed by a group of monsters a few days ago. My captors wore the faces of men, but those faces were lies. Beneath them, they're pale and twisted, like unfinished drawings of men.
There isn't a drop of humanity to split between them.
But staying asleep isn't up to me. My body aches with stored energy, demanding I wake. I reluctantly give in, allowing myself to be pulled to the surface. Scattered fragments of memories immediately rush in, clamoring for attention. I battle them back, refusing to examine any of them too closely.
Instead, I blink my eyes open, squinting against the harsh brightness of the sun. The room comes into focus slowly.
Something is different. No, not something. Everything.
This isn't the cold, filthy bathroom I've grown used to, but a bedroom. I'm nestled in a cocoon of warm furs and soft linens, the bed around me intricately carved wood. Ancient weapons hang on the hand-hewn walls, their sharp edges glinting viciously in the light. The scent of smoke lies heavy in the air, as if an entire forest recently burned.
Where am I?
A group of strangers gather on the far side of the room, speaking in hushed tones. I catch every few words, but without context, they might as well be speaking Greek.
Aside from one lone girl, they're all giant men, fearsome and imposing. The girl is close to my age, with dark hair and blue eyes. She looks exhausted, her shoulders drooping. Despite her fatigue, she listens intently as the men murmur back and forth.