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But much has changed between us since then, and I recognize that we are not as different as I once thought we were.
We are close to Windhelm, but I must settle this between us before we reach the capital city. She must know, without doubt, that my devotion to her is absolute.
There is a temple to the old gods not far from here. It is inside the fortress grounds and I always visit it first upon my return to my kingdom, whenever I’ve been gone for long.
It is also the place I go to be alone with my thoughts, asking for the guidance of the old gods. Now, I will take Freyja there and give her my most solemn vow. I will not have her doubt my regard for her.
CHAPTER29
FREYJA
Dark clouds hide the mountain peaks, and the air grows colder the higher we ascend. Moisture clings to my skin, making me shiver as we move through the clouds. The moment Aurdyn breaks through the line, I squint against the bright sunlight as my eyes adjust.
In the far distance lies the city of Windhelm. Dozens of homes and buildings are carved directly into the ivory stone walls of the ice mountains, surrounded by a sea of green trees that stand tall and majestic amidst the elegantly formed structures.
Cascading waterfalls spill down the mountain face, many of them landing in elegant collecting pools before continuing their descent. I stare in wonder at the Dragons in both two-legged and four-legged form that fill the skies. Their colors varying from silver-white, like Aurdyn, to green, black, gold, and even a few red.
As we draw closer, a castle comes into view. Carved into a sheer cliff wall, sunlight gilds the ivory fortress, making it appear almost gold. Surrounded by formidable towers with gold-capped domes and built-out terraces, it seems to have been built as much for defense as it was for aesthetics.
The bottom level of the castle has a large garden area around it. A waterfall spills from one carved side of the mountain into a pool that branches into several winding streams that carve a path through the dense vegetation before collecting in a basin and then running down the rockface below.
I notice a temple on the far side of the garden area. The proud stone structure ringed by tall columns of ivory stone, wrapped with thick, leafy, green vines. In the center is a large heart tree. It’s beautiful. Completely covered with tear drop shaped white petals, these trees are sacred and very rare. Their roots are fused with old magic, their branches constantly shedding their leaves and replacing them almost instantly.
The fragile white petals dance on the wind, swirling around the temple as if dancing through the air.
Aurdyn lands just outside the structure. As soon as he sets down, he gently lowers me to the ground and then shifts into his two-legged form, appearing as though dressed in black pants but nothing else.
The small, white leaves from the heart tree blow through the courtyard, whirling around us on the cool breeze. Several catch in my hair and my clothing like flakes of snow. A quick glance reveals no one nearby. Although it is lovely, I wonder why he has brought me here instead of straight to the castle.
“Every time I return from a long journey, I stop here to pay my respects,” he says, answering my unspoken question. “This is the first temple my people built to the old gods. It is older than the line of our rulers.”
He extends his hand to me, and I take it without hesitation. His palm is warm against mine as he leads me up the stone steps and into the center of the temple ring, until we are standing beneath the heart tree.
“I thought your people only moved to the Ice Mountains—to Windhelm—after the last Great War.”
“Before the Great War, Windhelm was where our priests came to worship.” His gaze travels over the temple before he looks up at the sky. “A remote mountain with ice-blue skies… it was a place of reflection.” He pauses. “It is why we chose this sacred place to relocate our people, seeking the shelter and protection of the gods to guide us through what was, at the time, an uncertain future.”
I stare at the heart tree and the ancient temple in wonder. “It’s beautiful.”
“My ancestors were all crowned here, when they assumed the throne, including me.”
He rests his hand on the heart tree, whispering words in a foreign tongue that I do not comprehend. But these words need no translation to be understood. The solemn reverence with which they are spoken fills the temple around us. A stillness settles in the air, as if the gods themselves are here listening.
“Of all the ones who have ruled before me, none were ever blessed to find their fated one.” He turns his emerald gaze to me. “The bond is revered among my kind. I tell you this so that you understand. Perhaps there will be some who object to our connection because you are human, but I believe there will be more who accept you because of what you are to me.”
“And… what exactly is that?” I ask. Before he can answer, I continue. “I know I am your T’kara, but you referred to me as your ‘mate’ to the Dwarves.”
I hold his gaze, leaving the question unspoken between us as I wait for his answer.
“If you were a Dragon, you would be both,” he replies evenly. “There would be no question of this.”
“But I’m not,” I counter. We have kissed and I know there is attraction between us and definitely something more than friendship, but beyond that… everything else is uncertain. He claims his kind do not love and I don’t know if I can love someone who could not love me in return. And the fact that I am human could have devastating consequences upon his rule. So whatever happens between us, it must be navigated very carefully. “We’re very different, Aurdyn. You said so yourself. You did not choose this anymore than I did.” Drawing in a deep breath, I steel myself to speak the truth I fear most. “And I cannot help but wonder how much of what you feel is influenced by the bond.”
“In the beginning? All of it,” he says. “But now? I know you. I want you. I desire you to be mine. Why does it matter if the bond influenced me?”
“Itmattersto me.” Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them back. I’m falling for him, and before I allow myself to fall any further, I must know that his feelings are real.
“Freyja, I—”
