Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Adriel stumbles backward, drained of color as shock and grief carve canyons of desolation across his face.
He collapses to the ground, an agonizing cry tearing from his lips. It hurts to hear it—but the pain rushing down the bond he forged between our souls 2500 years ago—the bond he’s kept masked for most of that time—is even worse.
It feels as if he’s dying, his soul being ripped apart piece by agonizing piece. I know precisely how he feels because mine is being shredded the same fucking way.
We failed her. Gods, we failed.
I hit my knees beside him, paralyzed by his pain. Crippled by mine. Every fiber of my being screams in agony as I watch him unravel before me, helpless to do anything.
I swore to protect them, and I failed them both. Abigail is gone—taken by those soul-damned monsters—and Adriel is breaking all over again.
I press my forehead to his, desperate to comfort him in some way even though there is no comfort to soothe this pain. "We will bring her back,” I vow, fighting to breathe through the anguish. “I swear to you, we will."
“Please,” he pleads, the first time he’s asked me for anything in two and a half millennia. His voice shakes. He trembles against me. “Please, Damrion.”
For millennia, I've kept my side of the bond masked, reaching out only in secret. But in this moment, I let him in, grabbing him with everything I am, trying to ground him. It's all I can offer him, the only comfort I have for him. I give it willingly, knowing it's not nearly enough. It'll never be enough.
"She's...she's not gone," Tori whispers from behind me.
"We won't let them keep her," Reaper growls to his mate, trying to soothe her.
Adriel whips his head in Reaper’s direction.
"And what will you sacrifice to get her back?" he growls, his eyes narrowed on the massive warrior. But this isn’t Reaper’s fault. We made the best call we could to protect his mate. Had he known ours would be taken while we rescued his, he never would have allowed us to accompany him.
"Anything," Reaper vows anyway, bearing Adriel’s grief without protest.
"We'll start scouting immediately,” Malachi promises, his mate still drugged and oblivious in his arms. “We won't rest until she's back with us."
"Ja," Dax agrees, holding Rissa as she sobs. "We will find her."
I cling to Adriel, hearing nothing as they make plans. All I can think about is Abigail, afraid and alone, needing me—needing us.
I feel like I’m in Álfheimr all over again, losing Adriel all over again. Only, it’s somehow worse this time around. Perhaps because Abigail is no warrior. Until recently, we didn’t even know she was Valkyrie. We thought she was simply a powerful Seer.
She’s had no training. She knows nothing about war or survival. And her captors aren’t Giants. They’re something even the Jötunn fear. Something so ancient and so evil they’ve been stricken from the record.
Something that’s been trying to get their hands on her for months.
Nei.
They can’t have her. Not her. Not today or any day.
“Find where they’ve taken her,” I growl to Dax as he and Reaper pull me and Adriel to our feet to get us moving. “Now.”
Chapter Five
Adriel
“We need to find her,” Damrion snaps, pounding the table with his fist.
“I know.” Dax tries to soothe him, but he’s beyond that. He’s been beyond soothing for hours. He’s running on pure rage now. “I’ve already sent word to the other Seers. They’re doing what they can to help, but…”
Everyone at the table falls quiet, the rest of his sentence hanging unfinished. We all know what he intended to say, however. They may be Blooded, but they aren’t Valkyrie. They aren’t Abigail. They don’t possess even a tenth of her power.
Without her visions to guide us, we’re blind. We have no way of finding her, let alone of rescuing her. The only advantage we had in this battle was her. And by all accounts, she walked willingly into their hands.
The warriors we left behind to guard her say she followed the Forsaken into the portal without a fight. As soon as they vowed to leave us alive, she let them take her.
Pain rips through me—infinite and excruciating. We failed her. Had we just forced her to talk to us. Had I refused to leave her side...
There were a dozen different choices we could have made that didn’t end with her in the hands of the Forsaken. But she didn’t give us a chance to make any of them. She chose for us, knowing that it ended with her in chains.
Her in chains...
Gods.
Memories claw at the walls of my mind, threatening to shatter them.
Chains biting into my wrists.
The searing pain of the blade cutting through my flesh.
The agony of the whip slashing across my back.
Endless years of darkness and pain.