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In his retreat, I catch sight of Adriel lurking further down the hallway, his back against a faded wall and one black eye fixed on Damrion. The harsh light casts heavy shadows over his scarred face but fails to dim the fiery longing burning in his gaze.
"I'll cover your back," he mutters, his expression going blank when he sees me looking at him.
I turn my attention back to the Valkyrie stirring weakly in my arms, setting to work on the ropes lashing her ankles together as my brothers murmur back and forth about the best way to get everyone out of here safely,
My heart clenches at the sight of her pallor beneath the harsh incandescent light. How long was she in that water? We need to get her to Letty, the healer at Eitr, our stronghold in the mountains, to ensure she's healthy. If Eitr still stands by the time we arrive.
The town is currently under attack by the Forsaken and the varulv, their hellhounds. They desperately want to get their hands on Abigail, the powerful young Seer who sees far more than the Dark would like. But if wishes were wings they could fly straight to Helheim with them. They aren't getting her.
The ropes around the Valkyrie's ankles finally come free. I toss them on the floor, scowling at the sight of the marks they left on her porcelain skin, and then lift her, rising to my feet.
"Malachi and I will go out first," Damrion says, his gold eyes meeting mine. "You, Rissa, and Dax will follow. Adriel will watch our backs."
I nod, dropping my gaze back to the girl in my arms.
"You're safe now, little Valkyrie," I tell her softly. "I swear, we'll get you out of here safely."
She stirs slightly in my arms. Her eyes remain closed, but her lips part as she takes a shuddering breath. It's a small semblance of life, a tiny sign that maybe she hears me and understands on an instinctive level that I mean her no harm. Gods, I hope she knows it.
The thought of her being afraid of me burns like acid.
"Be ready," Damrion commands, his voice a clarion call. It's clear why he leads us. There's an unmistakable air of authority to him, a refinement the rest of us lack. He wears the weight of responsibility well, making it seem easy, though it's taken everything from him.
He and Malachi move down the stairs with the rest of us following, silence settling over us. The anticipation is almost worse than whatever might still be lurking outside, the seconds stretching into what feels like eons.
Dax shelters Rissa in his embrace, trying to protect her from the sight of her father's body in the living room, though she's already seen him there. She burrows into her mate, hiding her face in his chest. Leaving the man here is what he deserves, but it feels wrong. He may not deserve our respect, but she does. And so long as she still carries love for him, the Fae owe him just as much honor as we'd show our own dead.
"He'll have a Viking funeral, elskan-ljós. It is all we can do for him," Dax murmurs, nodding to Adriel as we step outside.
The one-eyed Fae sets the edge of his lyststål against a scrap of fabric sticking out of a bottle of alcohol. The scrap ignites with a quiet whoosh. Adriel holds it long enough to ensure it's burning properly, and then tosses it into the house. The bottle shatters, alcohol spilling across the carpet.
Within seconds, it ignites, the fire spreading quickly.
Rissa trembles in her mate's arms, but she doesn't cry.
A menacing snarl rips through the air as we descend the porch steps.
One massive varulv rushes at us, a feral savagery in its eerie yellow eyes. All around me, power hums as my brothers call their lyststål. They blaze to life in a fiery nimbus, ready to defend Rissa and the Valkyrie in my arms.
But the varulv stops suddenly, his eyes locked on Rissa. He recoils with a whimper, as if remembering the devastation she wreaked upon them just days ago in the forests when she killed hundreds of them. They won't forget her or her power anytime soon.
The massive hellhound turns and flees, slipping between two trees before disappearing into the shadows.
"Well," Malachi says with a wicked chuckle, spearing a glance over his shoulder at Dax's mate. "I guess they don't like you much."
"Darn," Rissa says, deadpan before stepping off the porch.
Dax moves to flank me while Adriel hangs back to keep an eye on our rear. We move swiftly and silently towards the van parked on the curb just a few feet ahead. Each step feels like treading on thin ice, but if there are any other varulv lurking in the shadows, they stay there.
I climb into the van, holding the little Valkyrie on my lap. Malachi tosses a blanket toward me, allowing me to wrap her in it to warm her. Worry coils in my gut when she doesn't even stir this time, but she's still breathing.
"We're taking you to Eitr," I tell her softly, not sure if she hears me or not. "A healer will see to your wounds."
Whether our home still stands by the time we get there…well, that's another matter, altogether. But regardless of whatever comes next, I'll find a way to protect this Valkyrie. She's mine. My mate. My destiny. I'll wage war against the darkest corners of the nine realms if that's what it takes to keep her safe. That's my vow to her.
Smoke curls from the roof and sirens rip through the air as we drive away from Rissa's father's house, racing back to Eitr.
Chapter Two
