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.
I leap to my feet, knocking my chair back.
Everyone stops talking, glancing at me.
“Adriel?”
I ignore Damrion and stride toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Reaper calls.
I don’t answer him, either—I can’t. I stumble out the door, gasping for breath as it slams behind me. The icy mountain air blasts through me. I suck it into my lungs in greedy gulps, allowing it to ground me and shore up the walls in my mind.
I’m not in Jotunheim. I’m not in chains.
I’m in Eitr. I’m free.
But Abigail isn’t.
I feel Damrion behind me long before I hear him. I always feel him when he’s nearby—he’s an electric current running down my spine.
“We’re going to find her,” he says when I spin to face him.
But I’m not in the mood for platitudes and promises. Not right now.
I’m not in the mood to talk to him, either. For the first time in 2500 years, he let me into his soul today. Without reservation or hesitation, he let me in, sharing his grief and pain with me.
"Back off, Damrion," I warn him. I don’t want to fight with him tonight, not after what we’ve lost today. But the memories of Jotunheim are too close and my emotions are too raw. There’s only one way this will end between us—the same way it always ends. In a fight.
“You’re in pain. Let me help you. Please,” he pleads. The same plea reflects in his golden eyes.
"Help me? You can't help me," I snap. The weight of our shared history presses down on me, suffocating me. There’s so fucking much of it, and most of it hurts. We’re fire and ice, destroying each other over and over again.
“What do you want from me, Adriel?” he sighs, his expression pained. "I'm trying here.”
“I don’t recall asking for anything other than for you to back off.”
“Do you want me to walk away from you and the way I feel? Is that what you want?" he asks, frustration burning in his eyes.
I stare at him for a long moment, anger and bitterness churning inside me. After all these years, he finally lets me into his soul, and he’s already trying to run.
“Do whatever the hell you want, Damrion. You will anyway.” I throw the words at him like daggers before turning to walk away, refusing to have this fight with him now. The past is too heavy, the present too uncertain, and our future too dim.
He grabs my arm, refusing to let me walk away. “Nei, don’t walk away. Talk to me, Adriel.”
My temper flares as emotion bubbles over. I slam him back against the wall, my hand around his throat. "Don't fucking touch me," I snarl, my face inches from his. "You lost that right when you left me to die.”
"For the last time, I didn't know you were alive!" he growls, his golden eyes locked on my face. “I never would have left you there had I known.”
"You should have known!" I shout. "If you'd let yourself love me, you would have known. You've been in my soul for 2500 years. I’ve felt you every fucking day. I knew that you were alive. I knew when you were hurt. I know everything because I feel you. But you never let me into yours until today. You were always too goddamn afraid." I hate the way my voice cracks as if I’m some Fae recruit facing his first battle.
“Adriel,” he says.
But I don’t allow him to finish. It’s my turn to talk. "I waited 2500 years for you to let me in. And it takes Abigail being taken from us before you finally do. And even now, you’re still so fucking ready to walk away. You'd rather break everything than let yourself love either one of us. She deserves better, Damrion. We both do. So you can go to hell." I push him away, desperate to escape the memories and emotions tearing at me.
But before I make it more than a step, he grabs me again, shoving me up against the wall this time.
