Page 87 of Veil of Blood and Bone

I sigh. “I bet he hated that.” But. There’s always a but.

“He did hate it.” His voice says those days are long gone. Dusty but not forgotten. “He hated it as much as he hated seeing her in the middle of the violence. That selfish prick wanted to take her from the field and show her a life of peace.”

It’s crazy to hear and crazier to admit there’s an air of credibility in this story. Instincts have never steered me wrong before. Always kept us safe, enough.

So I either have to choose to believe the men are telling the truth or⁠—

It’s insane, but then again, I was jumped by two trolls. So there is a scale for crazy now.

“My warrior goddess did not go with me,” Wren replies. “Neither did she go with her other two loves, although we each made pleas of her, in our own way.”

“You’ve switched to first person now.”

“It’s easier.” He shrugs.

My stomach knots. “All three of you, huh?”

“I never said it’s easy to learn to share. But our story ends as it always does, with death. Only for my love to transcend even death itself. Odin plucked her soul from the battlefield and forged her into a Valkyrie.”

I bite back a burn in my throat. “Warriors with winged horses, who take the souls of the fallen to Valhalla. Odin’s hall.”

“Yes, pretty monster. Yes.” Wren goes still. “Odin himself came down to claim her essence. Although she wished to go to Folkvangr, Freyja’s fields, she was offered a chance to become a Valkyrie. She could not refuse the call to serve. Or the opportunity to see her beloveds one more time.”

I don’t expect to remember a story I’ve never heard.

Wren’s narrative is familiar somehow. In a way I’m too scared to name. I stifle a yawn and fail.

“Rest now. There’s time for the past later.”

“Unless another troll shows up.”

How easy to let my eyes shut, to lean into Wren’s warmth and the dancing play of shadow and lamplight. How easy with Audra resting comfortably at my back and the three of us safe from the elements here.

“No worries. If another monster comes, then you’ll slay it.”

Wren’s voice tapers off, and the sleep I’ve avoided for hours finally rises to claim me, an inevitable force.

Like the AllFather.

Chapter 18

Forest

Imade a fool of myself.

Passing out the way I did, a prisoner to memories I’ve lived and can’t recall—It’s indecent.

And the way Nicholas and Wren had to take up the slack, drag me from the bookstore all the way to the shoddy little apartment.

And then losing myself on Helene’s bed...

Shoulders hunched against the rain and sleet, I head down the block until the dim glow of the town is a beacon in the blackness.

Then I shift.

The change floods my system with magic gifted, not inherent. Fingers shrink and turn the color of the space between stars. My face melts as the raven’s beak sharpens my nose, and I take off through the gloom, wings beating hard.

Wind batters me, and drives me askew along with the hail. Fools are out tonight.