My drudge wavers in his resolve, and I realize how lucky we are that they encountered each other here, instead of closer to the cages. I carefully bolster him, drawing up memories of Ivar’s temper and cruelty when he’s disobeyed. The effect is immediate.
“Ivar can do anything he wants,” my mark reminds the other guard. “He’s your drott just as he is mine.” He pauses before his next words, which erupt in an angry warning. “He’ll punish you, not me, if you stop me from bringing this prisoner to him.”
And now it’s the other guard’s turn to waver. He fears Ivar too. “Fine,” he spits out. “But you will return her to me. She’s mine.”
“I’ll do as Ivar commands. If he wants her returned, she will be.”
Neither speaks again as footsteps carry the second guard away from me. Moments later, Thyra appears.
She’s stumbling in the chains that hobble her steps, her arms barely strong enough to hold up the cuffs around her wrists. The Valkyrie that disappeared is now a wretch, broken and barely alive. I search for a spark in her eyes but find none.
And again, I have to smother the memories that threaten to overwhelm me. I looked so much like this when the fates let me find my escape.
I survived. She can too.
My thoughts spear out for another search of the cavern. When I’m convinced nobody else is near enough to interfere, I step forward. I can’t suppress my smile when the guard sees me. His eyes find mine and glare in an anger that’s been building for the last decade.
He takes a step forward, too focused on me to recognize the danger he’s in. And then my blade is in his throat, severing his vocal chords before he can utter a sound. He’d abandoned any chance of warning others—maybe saving himself—in the drive for vengeance that consumed him when he saw me.Idiot.
Part of me wants him to die more slowly, blood dripping from every inch of skin. My fingers itch as they wrap around a knife at my belt. Almost of its own accord, my mind is feeding his thoughts with images of the death I’d give him if I let myself. His eyes grow wide as a wicked grin splits my cheeks. When the smell of his shit spills out around us and his pants grow dark at the crotch, I sneer, expanding on the vision that's driving his terror.
But this is how he needs to die. Quietly and quickly. Much as I want it, I can’t let my craving for revenge take over with this guard. I embrace the calm I need to let my knife finish its job alone, relaxing as a sense of serenity enters through the soles of my feet and whispers up and through me. By the time his eyes are permanently open, I’m ready to let go of him and my urge to shred his skin the way they shredded mine.
Exhaling one last time, I turn to Thyra. Her eyes shimmer as peace seems to wash over her too. And then she collapses into the dirt just as Fhord turns a corner, his gaze landing on the dead guard.
“I had to kill him.” My words are a whisper. Anything louder would shatter the stillness Thyra and I need.
Fhord dips his chin once and bends to start rustling through the guard’s clothes, searching for the key that will unlock Thyra’s cuffs. Within a minute, he’s tossing them away, freeing her arms and legs.
I pull Thyra into my arms, wrapping myself around her. This is what I’d craved, almost more than food or sunlight, when Toffer and I escaped. For months after, we spent every night holding each other. Even now, when nightmares find one of us, we’ll escape our terror in the other’s arms.
Thyra’s breathing grows steadier as I hold her, the rhythm slowing as she finds comfort she probably relinquished weeks ago. When her eyes open, I’m grateful Bevin sent me here with Fhord. I needed this as much as her.
Now we just have to escape.
Chapter sixteen
Sifa
I Need to End Him
FhordcarriesThyraasI drag the guard along with us, stopping every few feet to backtrack and wipe sand back over the path we’ve scraped clear. It’s slow going, but Thyra’s too fragile for anything else.
Four different times, Fhord or I sense a nearby guard and barely make it into the shadows, or down a nearby cavern. I can feel the blanket Fhord throws around us with his mind, protecting us from anyone who shares our gifts. Once, we’re seconds away from being caught, ducking into an alcove a moment before a guard comes striding down the hall.
I’m prepared to leave the Nest with Fhord and Thyra. To abandon my own goals for now—my need to find something that will help me better understand what I must do to get back to my worlds. I know how to get in now. I’ll go back home with them and return alone. Soon.
We’re nearly there—a few male’s-heights from the door we’ll use to escape—when I feelhimstalking toward us. Bolverkr. The guard in charge of my torture.
Sweat erupts on my neck as my palms grow slick. My breath catches in my throat, memories of his depravity consuming my thoughts. I almost can feel the knife as it slices my skin, carving off little bits at a time while he laughs and demands answers I won’t give him. My thighs clench, as if I have any hope of keeping out the objects he shoves into me while I’m spread on the rack. Or the men who take me, one after another.
The phantom pains that stayed with me for months after my escape return, tearing into me while they remind me that these caves took a part of me I’ll never get back.
Thathetook something from me I’ll never get back.
I force myself to inhale and exhale, one shaky breath at a time.I’m safe. He has no control over me. He won’t hurt me again.Finally, I find the calm I need to finish this job. To go back to Toffer and Thor.
But then my memories shift to the vengeance I knew I’d find one day, my pulse quickening as that compulsion seeps into my thoughts. Suddenly, I’m sitting in my cell carefully constructing my retribution, holding on to that thin anchor for my sanity. My fingers flex, skimming the knife along Bolverkr’s flesh before I shove it up his ass, twisting the blade while he screams and begs. And then they’re wrapped around his neck, watching as he accepts my punishment. As I remove his evil existence from this world.
