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I don't want to fall for him. I don't want to need him. Love is pain. I learned that lesson early. My father taught it well, over and over until his kind of love killed my mom, leaving me alone in a world that didn't want me. Opening myself to this manfeels like opening a vein. Only, I might just bleed out this time. Because there's something about him that makes me want to open it.
How is that possible when I don't even know him?
Because your soul is bound to his. Might as well accept it, dummy.
I ignore that little voice, ignore the implications. What other choice do I have?
I know what he wants from me. Fate of souls and worlds and the whole dang universe.
If this is adulthood, I'd like to cancel my subscription, please.
"Are you hungry,elskan-ljós?"
My stomach growls at the mention of food.
Malachi laughs loudly, making me blush. I guess he heard that, then.
"Come. I'll feed you." Dax leads me across the living room toward the kitchen. Like the rest of the house, it's beautiful. Granite and cedar dazzle me everywhere I look, as if the room sprang up from the mountainside. Even the modern appliances blend into the room, the stove and industrial-sized chrome fridge somehow complementing everything else. It's far more functional than I expected for a home this cut off from civilization.
"If I ask exactly where in the Cascades we are, would you tell me?" I question, perching on a wooden stool at a massive center island.
Abigail, who followed us in, hops up onto a stool beside me while Dax crosses to the fridge, pulling it open to rummage around.
"We're close to the volcano," she says. "When it isn't snowing, you can see the top of the peak. Sometimes, you can even see it venting steam."
"Mt. Rainer?"
"Mt. Baker."
I blink, surprised. We're even deeper in the mountains than I thought…and much further from Seattle than I expected. Mt. Baker is the highest peak in the state, a little over three hours from Seattle. Most of the roadways around Mt. Baker are virtually impassable during the winter months. Even major highways shut down, leaving travel through certain areas a crapshoot.
"This is where the portal sent the Fae when Valhalla fell," Abigail chirps. "Damrion says they built the Hall on the exact spot to honor the Fae who died in the collapse."
"About that," I say to Dax, watching as he pulls items out of the fridge, creating a rapidly growing pile in his arms. "What is this portal and what happened to it?"
"Have you heard of the Bifröst?"
"Yes." It was, supposedly, a rainbow bridge that allowed the Gods to travel between realms.
"The portal was a piece of the Bifröst tying Valhalla to Asgard," Dax says without turning around. "The rest of the Bifröst was destroyed during the Final Battle, leaving the realms cut off from one another, but the portal remained hidden deep within Asgard."
"Until the Forsaken found it," Abigail says, her voice dark.
"Ja," Dax agrees. "Three hundred years ago, the Forsaken poured into Valhalla without warning. They massacred thousands. We assumed they came for the Valkyrie. They'd certainly spent long enough hunting them across the realms. But the portal was their goal. They unleashed their magic upon it, cutting Valhalla off from Asgard."
"Dax and the Fae tried to stop them, but when they went through the portal, for the first time ever, it didn't lead them to Asgard. It brought them here. Dozens of Fae were still insidewhen the portal collapsed." Abigail's blue eyes well with sorrow for the Fae who died within the portal. "They died horribly."
I slip my hand into hers, offering her comfort. Praying this isn't something she saw in one of her visions. She's just a girl. She may live amongst warriors and see things no one else sees, but at the end of the day, she's still just a girl. There are some horrors she shouldn't know.
Dax nudges the door of the fridge closed with his foot, turning to deposit his pile of ingredients on the island in front of us. Lettuce, tomato, cheese, meats, a loaf of fresh bread… There's enough to feed a small army. "Is a sandwich satisfactory, Valkyrie? Adriel will stick hislyststålup my ass if I fuck up the kitchen again."
"Dax is a messy cook," Abigail whispers conspiratorially.
"Lyststål?"
Dax grins, taking a step away from the counter. He doesn't do anything else that I can tell, but I feel power suddenly rush into him from all around, as if the very air in the room suddenly flows to him. As it does, the faint glow around him grows brighter and then brighter still. He makes a lazy motion with his hand, like he's flipping it over to present something with a flourish. A blazing sword suddenly appears, clutched in his giant fist.
I rear back, startled at its sudden appearance.
