Can he do what he said—sever the connection between me, Adriel, and Damrion? Is that possible?

No. No matter what dark magic they possess or what they do to me, I don’t believe that’s within their capabilities. If they could do it, they would have done it already.

The bond between a Valkyrie and her warrior is outside of their reach, something they can’t understand or touch because they have no souls. They can’t sever what they don’t understand. They are no threat to what they can’t reach.

"Give in, Seer," the Forsaken urges. "Agree to help us, and the pain will end. You don’t have to suffer anymore.”

It’s a lie. I know what they’ll do to me. I’ve seen that version of the future. If I give him what he wants, they gain a foothold in my soul. And they’ll use it to turn me into their own little monster, corrupting my soul to use for the Dark. My power becomes theirs.

Once they use me to decimate this world, they turn their sights to the Veil. I’ll become their own guide to every soul they can get their hands on, leading them straight to a fate worse than death. And I’ll drag Rissa, Tori, and the other Valkyrie along with me. We'll hunt for the Forsaken. Kill for them.

The Forsaken will destroy every realm in existence through us—devouring every soul they can find. And we’ll willingly lead them to each and every one. Because of me.

That’s the future they want to usher in. And it’s the one I’ll fight until my dying breath. I won’t be a tool for the Dark. I won’t allow Rissa, Tori, or the other Valkyrie to be a tool, either.

There are two paths before us—one Light, one Dark. I’ll always choose the Light. For Adriel and Damrion, I’ll choose it a million times over. But if give in to the pain and tell them anything, I'll break, and I'll fall. And they'll gain the power of the Valkyrie.

It’s the only way they’ll ever truly have dominion over the dead like they crave. But they don’t know how to manage it.

I do. They gain it through us. I’ve seen it over and over. And I will never tell them what I know. I will never help them subjugate the souls of my sisters. I will never help them destroy millions of souls.

This is a battle I have to win. There is no other choice.

"Never," I say, my voice full of pain, but unyielding. I look directly into his soulless eyes, letting him see the truth for himself. He won’t break me. I won’t give him what he wants. I’ll never tell him what I’ve seen or what I know. I’ll die first.

"Fine then," he growls, rage twisting his misshapen features. “Have it your way, Seer.”

A whip of dark magic lances across the cavern, contorting like a snake writhing.

I tense, gritting my teeth.

It slams into me in a wave of agony, momentarily blinding me. In that moment, more of their false visions flood into my mind.

I see my own body crumpled on the ground, fires raging around me. I see Rissa and Tori, a redheaded Valkyrie and the dark haired Valkyrie I saw in my vision the other night swallowed by the dark. I see Adriel and Damrion in pain, their bodies battered and broken, their eyes hollow and devoid of hope.

They use my own Gift against me, tormenting me with vision after vision of loss and pain, of my friends dead and dying. Of Adriel and Damrion dead, dying, brutalized.

But I know better than to trust what I see.

They’re alive. They’re going to come for me. I feel them in the depths of my soul.

My vision blurs as the leader of the Forsaken slashes me with another whip of his dark magic. Another wave of agony washes over me.

The Forsaken laughs in the face of my pain. “How much pain do you think you can take before it breaks your mates?”

"Shut up!" I sob, yanking against the chains biting into my wrists. “Just shut up!”

I desperately try to keep the bond masked, to keep Damrion and Adriel out so they don’t feel what’s happening to me, but my control is slipping. I can’t keep the barriers in place.

"They’ll fall, just like Valhalla."

"I’m sorry..." I gasp. "I’m so sorry.”

"They can’t hear you, Seer," the Forsaken sneers. "No one can. We’ll take what we need from you, one way or another."

Another dark whip of power lashes out, searing into my skin. The pain is unbearable. I sob in agony as the barriers keeping Adriel and Damrion out collapse. I scream in defiance, in helplessness, and in agony, Adriel and Damrion’s names breaking from my lips.

Another whip hurtles into me. And then another.

And I do the only thing I know to do, I reach for my mates and my sisters.

Help me. Please.

Chapter Seven

Damrion

Adriel and I walk back toward the home we share with Malachi, Dax, Reaper, and their mates arm in arm. When we reach the door, Adriel tries to pull away.

“Nei,” I say, clasping his fingers.

His gaze flies to mine. “You don’t owe me this, Damrion.”

“No, I owe it to all of us,” I murmur. “We’ve hid behind our walls long enough, Adriel. From ourselves. From each other. From Abigail. From everyone. It’s time to heal now. I’m not waiting until we get her back. We’re starting right now. Tonight.” I touch his cheek, my fingers sliding along the puckered skin of his scar. “All will be well, hermaðr.”

I crack the door open, pulling him through. The warmth from the massive fireplace hits me in the face, a stark contrast from the frigid air outside.

Everyone at the table turns to look at us. Adriel flinches, his hand tensing in mine. He doesn’t pull it away though. Nor do I.

We stride back to the table, reclaiming our seats.

No one says anything to us, but Rissa can’t hide her smile. Neither can Reaper. It’s strange. Once, I was certain everyone would look at me and know I was unworthy. Now, when I’m absolutely unworthy, they look at us and smile—relieved that the war between us is over and we’re finally ready to move into the future. One with Abigail clutched between us. Precisely where she belongs.

“What did we miss?” I ask, glancing around the table.

“Arguing,” Malachi rumbles. “Lots of arguing.”

“Arguing won’t bring her back.”

“Without her visions to guide us, we’re blind,” Reaper says.

“Ja,” Adriel mutters, his one good eye narrowed at the massive warrior. “But we survived millennia without her visions to guide us. Don’t tell me that you’ve become so spoiled by them that you’ve forgotten what it means to be Fae. We don’t stop moving just because we can’t see the path before us.”

“I’ve forgotten nothing,” Reaper growls, his amber eyes flashing fire at Adriel. “Point me at the path, and I’ll crawl if it means killing the Forsaken. You need only point me in the right direction, brother.”

“I still think we should start with the churches,” Dax says, something they clearly discussed already in our absence judging by the disgruntled look Malachi shoots him. “They seem to enjoy defiling holy places they have no business in.”

“Ja,” the normally cheerful warrior groans, rolling his eyes heavenward. “And we’ve crawled through every abandoned church in Seattle already. If there was something to find other than their attempts to misdirect us, we would have found it by now. We have nothing.”