“And when exactly was this?”
Freya’s brow scrunches. “It must’ve been seventy years ago.”
My parents left one hundred years ago, and the imposter started her reign fifty years ago. So Freya spoke with the real Odessa when she was told that my parents were searching for something.
My thoughts spin rapidly around my brain. What could theyhave been searching for? Something to protect them from my father’s family?
Again, it circles back to his family. My anger has my wings appearing. The feathers shudder at the sudden pop back into existence. Freya stares at me, waiting for some kind of verbal response.
“Do you know who my father’s family was?” My gaze swings from her to Luna.
Freya tilts her head, staring past my face and at my wings.
“No. But one would assume they’re not of this world if they had the audacity to think they could kill your mother.”
“What do you mean?” Luna interjects, waving her fork in front of her.
“There’s no way the Bryn I knew would have left this place if the threat wasn’t severe enough. She was terrifyingly fierce. And with wings like that…”
Everyone turns to stare at my wings. The silver of them gleaming as I shift in my seat.
“With wings like what?” Mina asks, a crease forming between her brows as she stares at my wings.
Freya shrugs and spears a carrot with her fork. “That color is unusual for a Valkyrie.”
I squint, tilting my head to the side as I think it through. “I thought it was because I had lived so long without magic?”
She shakes her head and grips her fork tighter. “No. I don’t think you’re entirely a Valkyrie. You’re something more…”
“Would that explain if I had more than one power?” I ask, remembering how I glowed when I was angry with Ashur.
Freya observes me closely. “More than one?”
I bite my lip. The feeling of being observed settles over me. “I don’t know exactly. But I have a tendency to glow when I’m…emotional.”
Luna snorts.
“And what’s your other power?” Freya asks.
“I can foresee an opponent’s move in battle.”
She grins and sets down her fork. “Interesting.”
“And yours?”
She swirls a finger around the tip of her wine glass, smiling. “I can influence moods.”
White hot fiery rage spears through me and I grip my fork so hard it bends. Then all the sudden it vanishes, replaced with a steady calmness that numbs my limbs.
“Woah,” I breathe. “Helpful.”
The rustling of wings and stomping of boots halts our conversation. Turning in my seat, I see Lachlan and Evander, joined by Odr and Harald, making their way towards us.
Lachlan reaches me first, stooping down to place a kiss on my temple. “Are ye okay?” Trepidation blazes in his eyes.
I shake my head. “I don’t want to talk about it. Areyouokay?”
“Ye heard the news?” Lachlan asks, his face carefully neutral.
