I’ve been at war with this Fae for millennia because of the choices he made. Nei. Because of the choices we made.
We were happy, damn him. Even with war raging around us and the destruction of Álfheimr looming, we were happy. After centuries of dancing around one another, pretending we didn’t feel the way we did, for one bright, shining moment, we had everything.
At least, that’s what I thought. I would have died for him, given up everything. But he couldn’t get out of his own way, not even to save my life.
Our souls were bound to one another. Our oaths to Valhalla should have forbade it, yet the bond formed anyway. I felt him in my soul and threw the doors open wide. But he never let me into his.
For years while in captivity, the thought of him kept me alive. I waited for him to come for me. I prayed for him to come. And he never did.
Eventually, I had to face the cold, hard truth. He wasn’t coming because he was never going to accept our bond. I was nothing more than his shameful, dirty secret.
Realizing that nearly killed me. Once upon a time, I wanted to rip my own fucking heart out just to stop the pain. For centuries, it hurt worse than anything the Jötunn ever did to me.
And then Abigail arrived in Eitr. For the first time in 2500 years, my heart beat again. I didn’t understand why I was falling for her, but I was. And so was Damrion.
We fought it—I fought it until I couldn’t fight it any longer. I didn’t want to love again. I didn’t want my heart to beat again. But to know Abigail is to love her. She’s a shining Light, as pure as the waters in Valhalla.
The day the Forsaken attacked Eitr, I felt her in my soul, crying out for me.
And Damrion felt her, too.
He never felt me, but he felt her. I wanted to hate him for it, but I couldn’t. Even now, I can’t bring myself to hate him. Because I understand him all too well.
It’s not us he’s afraid of. It’s not me that shames him. It’s himself.
But Abigail needs both of us. Her power is so dangerous that the Norns sent two Fae to protect her soul. She has to come first in all things now—not just to me, but to both of us.
Damrion’s had 2500 years to handle his shit. He’s out of time. I won’t allow him to break her heart the way he did mine. The task in front of her is too dangerous, her path littered with pitfalls. We are her line of defense—her only line of defense now that she’s come into her power and can no longer hide it.
"How many times do I have to tell you?” he asks, his voice a painful rasp. “I would have crawled through hell to get you back had I known you were alive.”
"Don’t," I snap, clenching my hands.
“Don’t what? Don’t tell you the truth? Don’t tell you that I live every fucking day knowing you were there because of me? Don’t hate myself because of it?” The pain in his eyes is unmistakable, tearing at my soul.
I glare at him, fire roaring through me. "Don’t pretend you care now," I hiss, letting the hurt and anger that's festered for millennia seep into my words. "You were too goddamn cowardly to fight when it mattered. It’s too late now."
"Adriel, it wasn't like that," he says.
"Then what was it like, Damrion?" I demand, my hands trembling with fury. "Because from where I’m standing, it certainly fucking feels that way. You wanted me to be your little secret, and when I said no, you turned your back on me.” I stalk toward him, stepping so close we nearly touch. “You would have preferred if they had killed me, wouldn’t you? At least then, no one would ever have to know that the last Fae prince was fucking a soldier.”
"Enough!" he snaps, grabbing me by the throat. He slams me back against the wall, his face red with fury, his lips inches from mine.
My cock turns to steel at the feel of his hands on me, his body pressed to mine. Memories of the first time he had me pressed against a wall flood my mind.
“Damrion,” I groan, throwing my head back.
“I like the way you say my name when you want to come, Fae.” He smirks, one hand wrapped firmly around my throat while the other works to undo my pants.
He pulls out my cock, his golden eyes never leaving mine as he begins to stroke me in slow, deliberate movements. The scent of battle and blood hangs heavy in the air outside his chambers, but all I can focus on is the overwhelming pleasure of his hand on me.
"Adriel," he whispers, his voice rough with desire, "I know you want to come for me."
A desperate moan escapes my lips as his grip tightens and his pace increases, his rough fingers trailing across my balls. My heart races, my body trembling in ecstasy.
“Come, Fae.”
I’m helpless to do anything but obey the command ringing in his voice and reflecting in his eyes. Every time he touches me, I’m caught by the heat in his eyes, a slave to the desire raging between us.
“Damrion, faen,” I groan, coming undone in his hand in hot spurts that leave me quivering.
“Feel better now?” he asks, watching me in heavy-lidded satisfaction, a smirk on his lips.
“Nei,” I growl, pushing him back a step as I drop to my knees, already reaching for his pants. “Not yet.”
"I've been here, Adriel," Damrion rasps, dragging me back to the present as he loosens his grip on my throat. "For 2500 fucking years, I've been right here, begging you to forgive me. And you've hated the sight of me for every Gods-forsaken one of them. I can't do it anymore. Not when it's breaking her heart, too."
"What does that mean?" I demand, my voice shaking. "Gods damn you. What does that mean?"
"It means we'll talk when we get back." He stands up to his full height, his expression shifting into a mask of command as he releases me. "Now move your ass, Fae. That's an order."
Dread coils in my stomach as I watch him storm out. I'm left with the bitter taste of regret in my mouth and the heartbreaking realization that history is poised to repeat itself. He’s going to break her fucking heart. And mine. Just like he broke the two of us so long ago.
"Damn you," I whisper, leaning against the wall for support. “Damn you, Damrion.”
I can’t let it happen—not to her. Not to him, either. Because whether he’s willing to admit it or not, if he does this, it’ll break him too.
Perhaps I shouldn’t care about that. I’ve spent so long fighting him and raging at him just to feel anything but pain that everyone assumes I fucking hate him. But even now, after everything, I’d tear my own heart out to spare his.
