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)
"In Valhalla," Reaper says, coming up behind me to wrap one strong arm around my waist, "the valley stretched for miles. When the wind blew, you could smell the Odainsackr and the belladonna all through the Hall of the Warriors. This place reminds me of home."
"Odainsackr?" I repeat, turning a questioning glance up at him.
"Odin's flowers. You call them poppies."
I smile in wonder. "Are we really standing here right now, Reaper? Talking about Odin and Valhalla?"
"Ja." He dips his head, brushing his lips across my crown. "It must seem overwhelming to you."
That's just the thing. It doesn't. In a way, none of this feels new at all. It's as if some part of me knew it all along and simply needed someone to unlock those memories for me. That should be terrifying, but with Reaper at my side, it isn't. I'm not afraid of the fact that this strange, new world is real. The universe has always seemed far bigger than just me and my little corner of it.
What scares me is how I fit into it now. And what happens if I can't do what I'm supposed to do. My nightmare was a vivid, terrifying, soul-crushing illustration of what the world stands to lose—of what I stand to lose. The Fae, ripped from existence. Reaper, murdered in front of me. The shadow of the Forsaken smothering every Light placed before them. Countless millions of souls—destroyed.
I don't think it was simply a dream. I think it was a glimpse of one possible future. Of what happens if I can't accept my power. Of what happens if we lose. I'm not entirely sure. But I do know one thing: no matter what happens, I have to try because I won't allow the Fae at my side to be hurt. I won't allow him to fall to the Forsaken. I won't lose him.
I know nothing of soul bonds or mating. I'm nineteen. Until an hour ago, I'd never even been kissed. But I feel this warrior nestling into my soul as if he belongs there, and it feels right, as if that's where he was always supposed to be. If I'm meant to fear that, I don't. I want it with a desperation that's foreign to me. I want him with an intensity that makes me ache.
He's mine. There's a reason I felt him in my subconscious. There's a reason he was with me in the dark when no one should have been. He's mine. No one gets to take him from me. No one.
"Valkyrie," he rumbles.
Only then do I realize that he's pressed his body closer to mine, wrapping himself around me like a living flame. The heat of his body engulfs me, searing everywhere he touches.
"Your emotions run hot and wild, solsken," he purrs, his voice like velvet as he spins me in his arms. I feel his erection against my hip, as massive and hard as the rest of him. An answering hunger blooms deep within me, intense and infinite. "I feel them pouring over me."
"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I-I don't know how to control it so you don't feel them."
"Don't be sorry. Don't control it." His lips seek mine, hot and hungry, eager. "You don't have to hide anything from me, Tori. I will hide nothing from you. My soul is yours. Yours will belong to me, too."
I think it already does.
God. Why doesn't that frighten me? Rationally, I know it should. My soul is supposed to be my own. Yet…I've always felt like part of it was missing, as if I merely kept this half safe to hand it off to someone else. To him? I think so. It feels right.
His lips catch mine, and thought spirals away, lost to him.
I gasp, tasting his sweetness on my lips, feeling his stubble scratching my skin. My heart hammers against his chest as if it's trying to beat its way free. He wraps me up in an embrace that feels like home. His hands roam over my back and then down to my ass, squeezing gently.
I shiver, moaning at his touch. He's so confident, so possessive and sure. There's no hesitation when his hands are on me. It's as if he knows I'm meant to belong to him, and he's eager to claim every inch of me. I want it. So freaking badly it's overwhelming.
The wind picks up around us, rustling the leaves of trees in a soothing symphony of sound. The scent of snow and frost fills my lungs, but I don't feel the cold anymore. I only feel Reaper. Only the warmth of his touch, the heat of our kiss.
My fingers slide into his hair, tangling in those beautiful strands. He feels so solid against me, more vital and alive than anything else in this world. My breath hitches when he runs his tongue along my bottom lip before pushing it into my mouth again, claiming it completely.