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"Your great-great-great-great grandmother, many times removed, is the daughter of one of those Valkyrie,elskan-ljós."
She laughs abruptly. "You almost had me for a minute there, Dax."
"The man you set on fire last night was Forsaken, Rissa," I growl. "Others will be coming for you. They won't stop until you're too powerful for them to stand against."
"And the Valkyrie sent you to kidnap me for my own protection, right?"
"The Valkyrie are dead!"
She flinches backward, her face paling. Her laughter fades, silenced by my roar. I immediately feel like adrittsekkfor shouting at her. It's not her fault she doesn't understand. None of this is her fault. But her life is in danger, and I need her to take that seriously. It's the only way she survives. And more than anything—more than Valhalla or the portal or the prophecy—I need her to survive. Our bond demands it.
That's my priority now. That's what I'll give my life to protect.Her. Even if it means watching the realms fall to darkness.
"The Forsaken murdered every remaining Valkyrie three hundred years ago, Rissa," I say, more calmly than I feel. "They invaded Valhalla and destroyed everything in their path. We've been stranded here since, waiting for the five prophesized to restore the cosmic balance." I take a final step toward her, this one putting me within reach of her. I place my hand beneath her chin, tipping her face up to mine.
She doesn't flinch from me. She doesn't run screaming. Her gaze flickers across my face, her blue eyes wide and solemn, as if she's trying to work out for herself if I'm being honest or if I've lost my mind.
"We've been waiting for you, Valkyrie."
"No," she whispers, shaking her head. "No."
"Ja. Yes."
"I'm not who you think I am. I'm notwhatyou think I am."
"You're Valkyrie, my Valkyrie."
"Y-your Valkyrie?" The tip of her tongue darts out, sweeping along her bottom lip.
I fight the urge to groan at the sight of it. Fight the desire to dip my head and taste it for myself. Gods, how I crave her. In ways so profound they defy description.
"D-Dax, what are you? Are you one of those warriors?"
Neither are the question I expected her to ask.
"Nei, Rissa. I'm not."
"But you aren't human, either."
"Nei."
"Tell me."
"My brothers and I are Fae, the oath-sworn Guardians of Valhalla."
"B-brothers? How many of you are there?"
"167. The last of the Fae." I pause. "The last flickering flame of Valhalla."
"And you're all stranded here? On earth?"
"Ja."
She expels a soft breath, which shakes upon her lips. "And you think I'm one of the Valkyrie you're looking for?"
"I know you are, Rissa."
"How?"
