Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 41683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Baelen and Rhistel, two of the strongest Fae, lead a unit of warriors each. They were in charge of protecting Eitr in Damrion's absence. They're the most logical choices to help get everyone out safely. They know what it takes to lead.
"Tori and I should go with Baelen."
All eyes turn to me.
"I told you he wouldn't like it," Malachi mutters.
My brows furrow, unease drifting through me.
"What wouldn't I like?" I demand, my senses on high alert.
No one answers, their eyes shifting uncomfortably.
"Speak up," I growl, locking eyes with Damrion.
"Rissa and Tori are needed in Seattle," he finally says, meeting my gaze head-on before glancing away again.
Only Dax has the courage to hold my gaze without flinching, clearly sharing my apprehension about returning to the city with his mate. He knows what dangers lurk there. Twice, the Forsaken have tried to get their hands on his mate in the borders of the city. And we just rescued mine from their clutches.
"Nei. She is not going back to that place."
"We have no choice."
"There is always a choice, Damrion," I snarl back at him.
"Not this time. They are the brightest Lights we have." His voice softens. "There are two other Valkyrie out there—possibly three—who we have yet to find. We need their Light to guide them to us."
"We have Abigail!" I argue, grasping for another solution. One that doesn't involve putting either Valkyrie back in harm's way.
"Ja, but can we trust her visions?" Malachi asks, earning a vicious look from Adriel. Everyone knows how the one-eyed Fae feels about Abigail, even if he refuses to admit it. He loves her just as intensely as he loves Damrion. They've been at odds over her since she came to Eitr. One day, they'll figure out that the soul splits three ways as easily as it does two.
Malachi ignores the savage look on his face, pressing on. "The Forsaken know about her and her Gift. They may even be responsible for some of her visions. She said herself that we can no longer trust what she Sees. But the Valkyrie have always been drawn to one another. If that's true, Rissa and Tori are our best chance at drawing the others to us."
His words pierce me like a sword, driving home the severity of the situation. Rissa and Tori were spun out by the Norns themselves to face the Dark and everything it throws our way. But my job as Tori's mate is to protect her above all else…even if it means letting the world fall. The need to do exactly that is overwhelming, overriding everything else. Perhaps, in a thousand years, I'll know how to balance the conflicting needs. Perhaps if I'd had that long, I'd already know how to juggle my Fae instincts with her Valkyrie fate. But it's been a single day. I know nothing but instinct.
It screams at me now, demanding I protect my mate.
My body tenses, ready for any threat that may come our way.
Kill. Kill. Kill.
Ja. I know that instinct too. It's razor sharp, honed from millennia of use. Anything that comes for my mate will have to come through me. I'll rip their flesh from their bones before I allow them to harm her.
"Reaper," Dax says. "Easy."
I shoot up from my seat, knocking over the chair. A surge of scorching hot rage courses through my veins, fueled by the Light within me. I reach for Magn, the source of our power, letting it flood through me.
"Faen!" Dax shouts.
The urge to kill and maim screams louder, growing stronger.
I realize a second too late that the rage boiling through me doesn't stem from the need to protect Tori from whatever waits in Seattle. It stems from what she feels right now. Something is wrong.
The realization barely hits before her mind opens to me on a piercing scream of terror. It rips through the house, reverberating off the walls.
Ah, Gods. She's so afraid and in so much pain. It's excruciating.
Every fiber of my being trembles with the desperate desire to rip apart whatever is hurting her.
Kill. Kill. Kill.
My brothers leap to their feet, chairs knocked askew. But I'm already running, my feet pounding across the wooden floor as I fly up the steps in a race to get to Tori.
"Tori! Valkyrie!" I nearly rip the door off the hinges as I plow through it. My knees threaten to buckle at the sight of my mate thrashing on the bed as if she fights for her life even in her sleep.
"Reaper!" Rissa cries, eyes wide in her pale face. "She just started screaming."
I cross the room in two steps, landing on the bed beside Tori. The lyststål in my hand dissolves. It's not needed for whatever enemy hurts my mate now. My body brackets hers as I drag her into my arms. She's still screaming, her face twisted in a mask of terror.