Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 47068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
A shuffling sound reaches my ears as we near the only other door. I don't know if it's a storeroom or an exit. It isn't marked.
I kick it open anyway, hoping the Gods-forsaken music covers the noise of the splintering frame.
Cool air rushes in as the frame collapses. I catch a glimpse of a brick wall across the alley and an overflowing garbage bin.
An exit, then.
"Let me go!"
My blood boils at the sound of her voice. It's thick and uncoordinated, the words slurring together.
"Stop fighting and get in the car, Valkyrie."
Skíta.
Whoever has her knows what she is. How?
I call Magn, reaching for my lyststål. Power surges around me as Damrion and Reaper do the same. They heard him too.
I step through the door, ready to end his miserable life, whoever—and whatever—he is. The desire only intensifies when he comes into view, one hand wrapped around the Valkyrie's throat as he tries to force her into the SUV idling at the head of the narrow alley. Even dressed in human clothing with a baseball cap pulled down over his head, there's no hiding his pale skin or the dark shadow rippling around him.
"Forsaken," I hiss.
The Forsaken are perversions of nature, the soul-damned immortals who gave themselves over to the dark. Humans call them demons, but they don't know the half of it. The Forsaken predate any religion known to man, predate humanity. They were evil before evil had a name. The only thing they fear is the Light.
It's been three hundred years since they destroyed the portal, trapping us on earth. Three hundred years since we swore to exterminate every single one of them. And rage still roars through me in a blistering cloud.
"Ja, Forsaken," Damrion growls, the nimbus of light surrounding him growing brighter as he calls more power. It crackles like electricity as he hefts his lyststål, a savage look on his face.
"Let me go!" the Valkyrie cries again, fighting tooth and nail. She's tiny, especially in his hands. Her head barely reaches his shoulder, but she fights as fiercely as any Valkyrie. Moreso, perhaps, considering the drugs pumping through her veins.
"Silence!" The Forsaken lashes out with a whip of dark power, cutting off her air supply.
Her blue eyes go wide, her mouth open even though no sound comes out. Fear rips through me again, a fresh wave of terror crashing like a tidal wave in the center of my chest.
Rage boils over. Hers. Mine. In this moment, I'm not sure. But I'm not the only one who feels it. She does too.
It pours out of her in an eruption of powerful Light that rivals the sun, hot, intense. Exquisite.
The Forsaken screams as it envelopes him, burning through him like lava. He flings himself away from her. But it's far too late for that.
He ignites like kindling, his clothing going up with a whoosh. His scream ends abruptly, cut off as her Light reduces him to ash in seconds.
"Gods have mercy," Malachi whispers into the ensuing silence.
The Valkyrie sobs, her Light winking out. Her legs wobble, threatening to drag her to the ground.
I release my lyststål, striding across the few feet separating us. I make it to her side just as her legs give out.
She lands in my arms, staring up at me with eyes that see clear to my soul. Even dull from the drugs in her system and the shock of what just happened here, intelligence far beyond her years blazes in her eyes.
"Valkyrie," I whisper. "Elskan-ljós. You're safe now."
"I…" Confusion swirls through her eyes and wrinkles her perfect brow. "Did I just kill that man?"
"Nei, lyseste ljós. He was no man."
"Oh." Her gaze bounces across my face. "Are you?"
"All too much," I say wryly. I've never felt more like a man than I do with her in my arms. Gods. My cock aches, my body screaming to claim what now belongs to me in a way nothing and no one will ever be able to violate or break. Now isn't the time, yet the instinctive urge to fuck and possess grows stronger the longer she's in my arms.
She's beautiful. Dark hair frames her heart-shaped face, falling midway down her back. Plump, pink lips part slightly, the tip of her tongue dancing across them. Unlike half the women in the bar, she's dressed modestly, her thick, curvy body hidden in jeans and a hot pink top that reveals little more than a teasing glimpse of cleavage.
"Are you going to hurt me?"
"Never," I vow.
"Okay, then," she whispers. Thick, sooty lashes flutter over her eyes, her body going lax in my arms. The drugs drag her under, her strength depleted now that she knows she's safe in my arms.
"Dax."
I snarl a warning, crouching over my Valkyrie as Malachi places a hand on my shoulder. The urge to rip his hand from me is strong. The desire to take her away from him, far from everyone, is stronger. It beats at me, growing stronger the longer I ignore it.