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A cold drip of ice slithered down my spine, and I forced my feet faster. At this pace, climbing to where Yggdrasil burned could kill me, but I refused to stop.

Not with Drak’s soul finally reaching out to me and communicating with me through slow warming within.

The moment we directed our path toward the wasteland, the crystal went from neutral to humming with the faint touch of life. The temperature rose, if only slightly, and the glow remained steady. Drak was guiding me, and I was finally listening again. I tried to push away the regret, the ache of wasted moments when I wouldn't listen to his words while he was still alive. It hurt, and I wanted to blame the gods, but I wasn’t living a lie anymore. I’d shed all lies when I confessed that I cared for Drak. Before that, the fear of abandoning my long-held beliefs had paralyzed me. A world without helpful gods had looked hopeless…until Drak gave me power, not through Odin’s death, but by telling me the truth.

Stasia blew out a breath as Soren came to a sudden halt. She wiped her brow and perched on the edge of a rock as she looked over the rugged, forgotten land, smiling. Because, of course, Stasia’s the only one smiling here.

“What?” I asked both of them.

“This is wrong,” he said.

“It’s beautiful,” she countered.

Soren raised an eyebrow at her, and I frowned. “It was beautiful lifetimes ago, but now…”

“Now it has potential.” She lifted her hands and made a diamond shape with her fingers. Closing one eye, she scanned the rivers of red, the dirt, the view of nothing but ruins in the distance. “Can’t you see it?” she breathed. “Trees and life again? It just needs a little love and patience. Bread never rises without a little time. The air is clearing, which means the sun will reach these grounds again.”

“Are you mad?” Soren laughed. “It’s just dirt.”

“Not when we bring seed and water,” she said. “Flour is just flour until you add water and yeast. Then it becomes delicious, soft, fluffy dough—ugh! I’m so sick of dried meat.”

At that, Soren tossed her another salted fish so dry it could crack your teeth. It smacked her shoulder and fell into the dirt with a puff of dust. She ignored it as he took another bite of the fish in his hand.

After swallowing, he pointed the remains of the fish toward the ruins at the dip in the valley, miles below us. “That’s where we should be going.”

“What?” I fingered the crystal in my pocket. “No, we’ll go where the earth scarred.”

He shook his head. “Look, I let you lead us this far. But I’m sensing nothing that way other than that soul in your skirts. I’m sensing a powerful pull this way.” He pointed to the ruins.

Stasia let her head fall back with a groan. “You’re telling me we hiked a brutal mountain before you told us this? Why didn’t you say anything before?”

He frowned. “Maybe because I didn’t sense it before I got sight of those ruins?”

Twisting on the rock, she gazed at him. “How does this power of yours work?”

He stepped toward her and dropped to a crouch. After his tongue darted out and licked his lips, he cocked his head and laid a friendly hand on her shoulder. “Well, I get this sort of aching agony, and this intense need right in my core.” He fisted his tunic at his stomach and glanced at the valley below. “It’s a craving. I’m in pure desperation until I can touch it and get my release.”

“Ugh!” She shoved his hand off. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

He popped up again and shrugged. “Only halfway. It’s mostly true, but it sounds like you let your imagination run wild with my words. That’s not my fault.”

Stasia, deeply disgusted, jumped up from the rock and put several feet between them. “Who likes jokes like that?”

He shrugged again. “Told you I’m not for the weak of heart.”

She huffed. “So you’ve said.”

“Can we focus now?” I said with a sigh. “I think the most human part of Drak’s vampire life has to be when I told him I loved him.”

Soren’s eyes narrowed. “Which was in the gods’ domain? The gods he fucking hated with every piece of his being?”

I frowned. “Yes.”

With his arms folded, he shook his head. “Nah, no way. I know Drak too. That isn’t it. And there are souls down at the ruins, I feel it. There’s nothing up here except what’s already in your hand.”

I lifted the crystal from my pocket and took a seat on the now-empty rock. My gaze glued to it. “What is it, Drak?” I muttered. Nothing happened with the soul, so I closed my eyes and thought of everything we shared at the ruins.

In Old Skaldir, Drak’s memories of our first life together had solidified. That was when the absolute certainty settled in: his own identity, mine, and the profound reason for our return to this life after so many centuries. And when he told me I was his wife in a former life, when I finally believed that when he said he loved me, it was real. Not a trick.