Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 187(@200wpm)___ 150(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 187(@200wpm)___ 150(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
"I love you," I mouth.
A massive blast of Light explodes outward, ripping through the Hall like a bomb blast.
My Light winks out…and I fall.
Chapter Thirteen
Malachi
The blast of Light that explodes from Marion is like a supernova, hotter and more intense than anything I've ever felt.
All around the Hall, warriors go flying, knocked around like chimes in the wind. There is no stopping it, no slowing our momentum. We slam into each other and into walls, toppling in heaps.
I slam into the far wall, my brain rattling inside my skull. My blood roars in my ears, the whole world gone silent for a moment.
Good Gods. No one can survive that much power.
A broken cry of terror catches in my throat at the thought.
I have to remind myself that I'm still alive…that has to mean she is.
I haul myself back to my feet, stumbling. The Hall is in ruins around us, Fae dazed and bleeding. But every last Forsaken is gone, wiped from existence. So are their foul portals. The only one still standing is the portal to Valhalla in the center of the room.
Marion is slumped before it, her sisters around her.
"Marion!" I roar, fighting my way free of my brother Fae to reach her, unsure if she's even still breathing. I can't feel her. Gods, I can't feel anything.
How could she possibly survive that? It was too much. Far too much. And she was already weakened, her batteries depleted from doing the same thing again and again in defense of her sisters and the Fae. To raise portals and meet prophecy. She drained herself dry.
I drop to my knees beside her, choking on a sob. She's so pale. So still.
"Please, Gods," I sob, brushing hair away from her face. "Please." I drag her into my arms, my eyes wet with tears for the first time in millennia.
Her chest rises on a breath, and I sob. She's alive! Thank the Gods, she's alive.
"Marion," Abigail whimpers, reaching for her blindly. "She needs you, Malachi. Her Light is fading. Hurry."
"What do I do?"
"Use your bond."
I throw everything I have into it, opening my soul wide for her, demanding that she hear me, feel me. I press my lips to her skin, raining kisses across her face.
"Come back to me, lyseste ljós," I plead. "Come back to me."
All around me, her sisters reach for her, placing their hands on her, using their connection to try to bring her back. But she doesn't move. She doesn't open her eyes.
"You promised to fight," I whisper, forcing my way into her soul. I reach for my Light, pouring it over her in a hot wave. "You promised, ljúfr."
Her soul…flickers…as my Light hits her.
"Do it again," Abigail demands. "She feels you."
I reach for more Light, pouring everything I feel for this tiny little Valkyrie into it—my heart, my soul, every hope and dream I have for a future with her, one free of war and Forsaken and Gods-damned prophecy. I let it fill me to the brim, every memory with her, every touch, every kiss, every smile. When I can't hold anymore, I press my lips against hers and pour it into her.
Her soul doesn't flicker this time. It surges up in response, responding to me with a fierce devotion that steals my breath.
She sucks in a deep breath, whimpering against my lips.
"Marion," I whisper, relief crashing over me as I haul her up against my chest, burying my face in her throat. My tears soak into her skin, every corner of my soul singing her name.
Twenty minutes later, I gather her in my arms, brushing tendrils of hair away from her face. She nuzzles into my palm, sighing softly. She's exhausted, but she's alive. And her Light still burns.
She needs rest though, not little bits but days. Weeks, even. I intend to see that she gets it. Whatever comes next can wait. For her, it will wait.
"Are you ready, ljúfr?" I ask, rising to my feet.
Her emerald eyes flicker across my face, a question in them. "Ready?"
I smile, nodding toward the line of Fae slowly making their way into the portal. We're in no hurry now. She didn't just kill every Forsaken in the Hall. She killed every Forsaken and varulv in Eitr and outside the walls. Their portals are gone, and so are they.
We aren't foolish enough to believe this is the end, however. They'll be back. But we won't be here when they come.
"To see what's on the other side," I say.
Her eyes fly open wide. She clutches at my shoulders. "Valhalla," she breathes.
"Ja. Valhalla." My eyes shine with moisture as I gaze down at her. "The Fae are going home."
"And so are the Valkyrie," she says.