With a cry, I shatter, convulsing in their arms as rapture crashes through me. Wave after wave of pleasure rolls over me, leaving me wrecked on the shores of ecstasy.
They hold me through it, clinging to me, kissing me, murmuring to me. But all too soon, they pull away, the loss of their warmth leaving me cold and empty.
Adriel cups my cheek, his calloused thumb brushing over my skin. Damrion's fingers tangle with mine, squeezing once before he lets go.
"Stay safe," I whisper, my voice cracking.
Adriel's dark eye narrows. "Abigail—"
"Go," I cut him off. "Please. The Valkyrie needs you."
Damrion touches my cheek, searching my face as if looking for something. But whatever it is, he doesn’t find it. After a moment, he sighs quietly. "We'll return soon, ást-meer. I promise."
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. They share one last concerned glance before exiting the room, the door closing behind them with a soft click.
I sink to the floor, biting my fist to stifle the sob that claws its way up my throat.
"Forgive me," I whisper to the empty room. “Please forgive me.”
The vision flashes through my mind again—the portal, the Forsaken, the whips of dark magic. I know what's coming, and I know it’ll break them. Break us.
But there's no other way. To save the ones I love, I'll walk into the darkness, even knowing what waits for me.
Even if it means losing myself.
Chapter Three
Adriel
As Abigail’s door closes behind us, I hear her choked sob. It’s like a blade to my heart, threatening to carve out the mangled ruin that somehow still beats. The ruin she’s slowly begun to heal.
She’s hiding something. I feel it like poison in my veins, slowly eating away at my flesh. Even though she masked the bond between us again before she was even awake, her pain is too strong. It slips through cracks she doesn’t yet know how to shore up.
What did her vision show her?
Enough to have her beg us to kiss her as if she were afraid it would be the last time. Even now, I taste her on my lips. I feel her against my fingertip. My cock aches for relief from the incessant need that pounds through me every time I’m near her.
But worry for her overrides my need. It gnaws at my soul, demanding answers. I know I won’t get them from our little seer, however.
She may be the youngest of the Valkyrie we’ve found to date, but she might be the most fierce, too. She understands what’s at stake in a way no one else does. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees things she should never have to see. Her whole life, she’s seen them.
I glance at Damrion, signaling to him with a nod of my head to follow me down the hall. He meets my gaze, the same worry reflected in his eyes before I quickly look away. Even after all these years, it hurts to look at him. Sometimes, I think it always will.
And yet...and yet knowing that he found pleasure in pleasuring Abigail fills me with pride.
I turn and stride away, reluctantly leaving Abigail crying behind the closed door.
Damrion follows, his steps heavy, as if he knows another argument is brewing between us. When do they not when the two of us are involved? 2500 years, and we still fight the same battle.
Love will do that to a Fae. So will hatred. Some days, I no longer know which I feel for our leader…or so I tell myself.
When I’m honest with myself, I know it’s a lie. I love him still. I always have.
I step into the first empty room I find, standing aside for him to enter. His arm brushes mine, and I grit my teeth, steeling myself against the rush of emotion—the phantom ache that nearly drives me to my knees.
I fucking hate that I still feel it. That a simple, innocent touch nearly brings me to my knees while he stands unaffected behind his fucking walls. If I could hate him for it, I would. But I’ve had 2500 years to resign myself to the fact that hatred remains ever elusive where this Fae is concerned.
“What is it this time, Adriel?” he asks, turning to face me, resignation stamped into every beautiful line of his face.
“She’s hiding something,” I growl, my temper flaring in the face of his stoicism. When we’re with her, he allows himself to forget for five minutes that he hates himself and relax. But with me, he hides behind those damn walls as if they’re his only salvation. “You felt the same thing I did. You tasted her tears. Something is wrong.”
“What would you like me to do? Force the truth out of her?” One brow arches as if the thought amuses him. “You know as well as I that she tells us only what she wishes us to know. That’s always been her way.”
He’s right, damn him. From the moment she appeared in Eitr, she’s hesitated to tell us too much for fear of the consequences. She’s wise far beyond her years and understands too much of what’s at stake—perhaps more than anyone. The more we know about the future, the more we risk changing it...helpful when you don’t want certain events to come to pass, but damn inconvenient when they need to occur.Abigail guards those events carefully, her stewardship over our future unshakable. For someone so tiny, she’s a dragon.
“What is the plan?”
“We promised her that we would find the Valkyrie. We’re going to keep our promise.”
I scowl at him. “We can’t leave her, Tori, and Rissa here alone, especially when we don’t know what she’s hiding, Damrion.”
He meets my gaze, his golden eyes burning with frustration. Once upon a time, he sought my counsel. Now, I think he’d rather rip off his fingernails than listen to it. I suppose fighting him on everything for two millennia probably led here, but someone needed to do it.
He’s stubborn and unyielding. He clings to honor and the Old Ways, though they no longer serve us. There are no Gods any longer, no Valhalla, and no oaths. We’re on our own in this war, stranded on a planet that doesn’t even know we exist. Most of the time, I think he forgets that.
"I’m aware, Adriel," he replies sharply. "But we can't abandon a Valkyrie to the Forsaken, either."
"Like you abandoned me to the Jötunn?" I spit, my voice dripping with venom as bitter memories claw at me. I know it’s not fair even as the words leave my lips, but I don’t call them back, either.
