Adriel

Abigail’s pain is endless, tearing at my soul. Until it stops as suddenly as it started. For one heartbreaking moment, I think we’ve lost her.

Damrion does, too. His body goes rigid, his wild eyes meeting mine. The look of sheer terror on his face breaks me. It’ll haunt my dreams long into the future.

“Nei,” I choke, shaking my head. “She’s alive. We’re still breathing. She’s alive.”

If she were gone, she would have taken us with her. A warrior doesn’t survive the death of his Valkyrie. When a bond is complete between Fae mates, neither do they.

He knows this—it’s been one of the biggest points of contention between us for millennia. Had he let me into his soul all those years ago, he wouldn’t have survived had I died on the battlefield as he thought. He would have died with me.

In this moment, for the first time, I realize that, perhaps, it’s a good thing he couldn’t accept the bond back then. Had either of us died, it would have killed us both, leaving Abigail unprotected. Perhaps the last 2500 years have been our training for her arrival. We fought and grieved and raged. And we survived for her—because the Norns knew she’d need us both. We weren’t running from one another. We were running to her. Always, we were running to her.

Tori whimpers, stirring on the floor.

“Tori, solsken.” Reaper gathers her into his arms as the Light around her and Rissa winks out.

Dax grabs his mate, too, pulling her onto his lap and murmuring soothing words to her.

Damrion and I are at their side in an instant, falling to our knees. Begging for news, any news.

“What did you see?” My voice trembles as I plead for answers—for a tiny sliver of hope. Right now, I have none. She may have masked the bond between us again, but I still feel the remnants of her torment. It tears at the walls of my mind, threatening to send them plummeting—to spill my own torment across our bond.

I thought I knew torture. After seven years in Jotunheim, I thought I understood agony. I was wrong. What the Forsaken are doing to Abigail is far worse than anything I endured.

"Give them space," Reaper growls, narrowing his eyes at Damrion and me as he tries to soothe his mate. Her face is pale, tears drying on her cheeks.

Rissa is in the same sad state, trembling in Dax’s arms. They’re two of the strongest Valkyrie to ever exist, but whatever they’ve seen has reduced them to tears.

My soul quakes in terror.

Damrion presses his arm to mine as if to offer me strength, though I know he shares my fear. I feel it rippling down the bond between us.

"A vision," Rissa whispers, pain evident in her voice. "She sent us a vision of what’s happening."

Dax cradles her in his arms like precious treasure, concern etched on his face. My chest tightens, threatening to suffocate me. I need Abigail back in our arms. They ache for her.

“Oh, Reaper,” Tori sobs, her body trembling in his embrace. “They’re t-trying to break her. They have her tied up and helpless.”

“They’re using dark magic,” Rissa says. “They’re using it like a weapon, hitting her with it, forcing visions on her. She won’t give them what they want, so they’re hurting her.” Tears roll down her cheeks. “She’s not going to give them what they want, no matter what they do to her.”

The soul-damned bastards are torturing her with visions?

My vision goes red with rage. I jump to my feet, a roar of fury ripping from my throat. I can't contain the wrath coursing through my veins. I don’t even try.

I flip the heavy wooden table, sending it crashing into the wall. But it's not enough. The roar of sound as it collides with the wall does nothing to quell the inferno burning me alive.

I strike the wall with my fist, wood splintering beneath the force of my blow. Pain lances up my arm, but I relish it. I strike again and again, visions of Abigail, bound and helpless, assaulting me.

We should have protected her. Instead, we let them get their foul, evil hands on her. The weight of failure crushes me, driving me to my knees.

Damrion is beside me in an instant, grabbing me by the shoulders and pulling me into his arms, trying to contain my wrath and grief.

I bury my face in his chest, unable to hold back a sob. "She's alone and afraid, Damrion."

That’s the part that’s killing me. She’s alone and afraid. I know what that’s like. For seven fucking years, I was alone and afraid.

“Ah, Gods,” Damrion chokes, fighting back tears.

Tori and Rissa cry quietly.

"We'll bring her home, Adriel," Dax promises, his voice somber. “We won’t leave her there a moment longer than we must.”

“Please,” I plead. I never ask my brothers for anything. I’ve never wanted to put them in the middle so I’ve always held everyone at arm’s length. But I’m asking now. Nei. I’m begging now.

“Did you see anything that might help us find her, solsken?” Reaper asks Tori. “Anything at all?”

Tori is silent for a long moment before she answers. "A large cave with stalactites."

“I smelled sulfur,” Rissa adds, her voice soft. “And it was cold.”

“Anything else?”

The Valkyrie are quiet, trying to remember. I glance up to find Rissa’s eyes closed, her brows furrowed as she concentrates, trying to recall everything she saw.

“There was a sign,” Tori says suddenly. “I couldn’t read it. It was old and broken. But I think it was about dynamite or explosives?”

“A mine?” Malachi asks. “They have her in a mine?”

Damrion and I exchange a glance.

“The abandoned mining town down the mountain.” I glance at our brothers. It fits the description—though the description leaves much to be desired. The mine was shut down decades ago. The town died quickly after it closed.

“Faen,” Reaper growls as if he’d forgotten about it.

“If they’re using it, it’d explain why the forest around here is suddenly full of their varulv.” Dax’s brows furrow as he contemplates the possibility.

“Ja,” I agree. “It’d also explain how they were able to get so many of them here undetected even before their portal was operational. They’ve been in our backyard for months.”

We never could figure out how they managed to slip past us the night they attacked Eitr. We have every road leading up the mountain under watch. We have for years. But they came pouring out of the woods right up to the walls without anyone noticing.

"Malachi.” Damrion’s voice cuts through the silence like the crack of a whip. "Rouse every warrior in Eitr. We're going to bring her back."

Malachi hauls himself to his feet, but Rissa calls out before he even takes a step.

"Wait." She shifts in Dax’s arms. "There's something else. The Forsaken are after something specific—something they think Abigail has seen or knows. Something she's willing to die to protect."

My heart clenches, my stomach twisting as everyone falls silent, processing this. What could be so important that she’d risk her life to defend it?