It’s driving Malachi mad.

Abigail sits between me and Adriel, her hands clasped with ours. She looks so young and so tiny between us, like a little doll, her head barely reaching our chests. But there’s a strength in her that few possess.

I’ve seen warriors break under less strain than she’s under. She’s been tormented and tortured, shown things no one should ever see. She’s fought and survived, and still, she retains every ounce of Light, shining it into the world like a beacon.

I’m not simply in awe of her. I am enthralled by her—her strength, her grace, her beauty, her fierce spirit, and the way she clings to the Light, never deviating, never failing. If the Valkyrie we fought beside for millennia could see her, they’d weep tears of joy. She was worth their sacrifice. They all were.

She exhales a breath, glancing at me and Adriel.

I nod, quietly encouraging her to say whatever it is she’s been keeping from us.

"I think I met the Forsaken in charge," she says quietly. "He was the one they took me to when they took me through the portal.”

“Why do you think he was in charge?” Dax asks.

“Because I’ve seen him in my visions before.” She pauses. Swallows. “And I burned him with my Light, but he didn't die. He didn't burn at all."

Stunned silence ripples through the room, everyone staring at her. I pull her closer. So does Adriel.

Helvete.

For long moments, no one says a word. I don’t think anyone knows what to say.

Eventually, Rissa finds her voice. It trembles. "There's a Forsaken we can't kill?"

"Yes.” Abigail nods, licking her lips nervously. "And I think he knows how to sever the bond between mates." Her gaze flickers to Adriel and me, worry creasing her brow. "He tried to sever mine."

I pull her onto my lap, horror surging through me. Adriel growls, a dangerous, menacing sound—one I’ve heard a thousand times before. Right before he rips through a battlefield like a deadly storm, killing everything he touches.

I place my hand on his arm to steady him.

Malachi slams his hand down on the table, the impact causing Abigail to jump and cry out softly. "Impossible!" he growls, automatically rejecting the possibility. But I see the fear flickering in his eyes—the worry for the mate he just discovered. "There’s no way they can sever the bond. If he told you that, he lied like the soul-damned bastard he is.”

"Is it impossible?" Abigail asks, refusing to back down. Malachi is three times her size, but she doesn’t shrink from him. She shrinks from no one. "I just met a Forsaken who doesn't burn, Malachi. One who has spent months messing with my visions. If he can do all of that, who knows what else he's capable of doing?"

Malachi’s mouth works as he struggles to come up with a rebuttal. Eventually, he realizes he has none. He falls quiet, his expression troubled.

“We can argue about what he can or can’t do later,” I say. “I’d like to know what they want from my mate.”

“Agreed,” Adriel growls.

"At the moment? The last remaining shards of the Bifrost." She hesitates for a second and then sighs. "But that’s not their end goal. They want my obedience.”

"What does that mean?" Adriel’s voice drops two octaves.

Abigail hesitates, glancing at everyone around the table—Tori and Reaper at the far end next to Stephan, Dax and Rissa with their arms looped together, Malachi with his brows still furrowed. She meets everyone’s gazes, forcing them to look at her—to see her.

“Aside from your Valkyries,” she says, her gaze flickering to Malachi and Stephan—the latter of who goes slack-jawed in response—“what I have to say can never leave this room. If it does, we’ll fall, and so will the nine realms. I’ve seen it.”

“You have our silence, Valkyrie,” Dax says without hesitation.

Everyone nods their agreement except Stephan, who still looks battle-shocked by Abigail’s revelations. But if there’s a warrior in this realm worthy of guarding a Valkyrie, it’s him. Their blood runs strong in his veins.

Reaper nudges him. He glances up and notices everyone watching him.

“Agreed,” he rasps. “They’ll have to kill me before I reveal a word, Valkyrie.”

Abigail exhales a breath, her hand fluttering in mine. "There are only two possible outcomes in this war. The paths we take and the decisions we make matter more than you know, but no matter our decisions, they will lead to one or the other. Either we destroy the Forsaken, or they destroy everything.”

This, we already know. Most of it, anyway. I suppose we all hoped that our choices would tip the scales, give us different paths to success. But the Norns weave where they will.

“You asked what they want,” she says, glancing at me. “They want my visions to guide them to success.”

A chill races down my spine, my heart pounding like a drum calling us to war. How many times have her visions guided us to success? How many times have they saved our lives? The thought of that power in their hands is terrifying.

"Are you saying they want to use your visions against us?" Malachi asks.

“No. I’m saying they want to use me against you,” she says, her voice so soft it barely carries. “If you know the future, you can change it. That’s why I guard it so carefully. There are things we can’t afford to change, things that will guarantee their success. And if they succeed, if I give them what they want, they’ll win. There will be no stopping them.” She swallows hard, trembling on my lap as her gaze flickers to Tori and Rissa. “There will be no stopping us.”

“Us?” Tori whispers.

Abigail grips my hand, clinging as if I’m a lifeline. She clings to Adriel the same way. “If I give them what they want, they gain a foothold on my soul. I fall to the Dark.” Her voice shakes. “And if I fall, I take the Valkyrie with me. They won’t destroy the realms. We’ll do it for them. That’s what I’ve seen. That’s how they win.”

Faen.

They aren’t after the portal, at least not entirely. They’re after the power of the Valkyrie...and they intend to use my mate to get it.

"Nei," I growl, fear and rage warring for dominion. "That will never happen."

"It could," Abigail says softly, turning to place her palm against my cheek. "I've seen it, Damrion. If I ever tell them what I’ve seen, even a piece of it, they win." Tears well in her eyes. “We’ll deliver every single soul right into their hands, and I’ll be the one who made it happen. I’ll kill us all.” She shivers, a tear sliding down her cheek. “That’s what they want from me. To claim my soul and turn me into a monster.”

Adriel has his arms around her in an instant, offering her his strength. "Nei, Valkyrie,” he breathes. “We will not allow that to happen. Your soul is safe with us." His voice is fierce, but I feel the fear he’s desperately trying to hide from her.

The same fear flows through me. Abigail, Rissa, and Tori are the three most powerful Valkyrie we’ve ever seen. We don’t yet know what the other two are capable of doing. But we do know that, together, they’re the most powerful weapon the realms have ever seen. In the hands of the Forsaken, that weapon would be catastrophic.

We wondered what task was before Abigail that required two warriors tied to her soul to guard it. Now, we know. If she falls, the entire fucking universe falls. She and her sisters will become the Dark’s own personal öndnýsa—Soulseekers. And instead of ferrying souls for the Light as Valkyrie have always done, they’ll ferry them straight to their destruction.

And now, there's a Forsaken who doesn't burn. One who says he can sever the bond between mates—the same bond that protects her soul. She's never been in more danger than she is now. And Gods help me, but I don't know how to protect her.

She rests her head against Adriel’s. He brushes the tears from her cheek with a shaking hand. I hold them both, praying to any God still listening for the strength to protect her—not because our lives depend on it, but because hers does. She’s too pure, too perfect to ever fall to the Dark. We can’t allow it. For her sake, we cannot.

Somehow, we have to find a way to ensure she does not fall.

Abigail pulls back after a moment, slowly putting herself back together. She takes a breath before turning to face everyone else at the table. Dax has Rissa clutched in his arms. Reaper looks as if he’s considering fleeing with Tori. Malachi and Stephan both look sick.

"There's something else," she says, exhaustion whispering in through her though she tries to hide it. Adriel hears it, too, and glances at me. I give him a nod. As soon as we’re finished here, she’s going to rest.

“What is it, Valkyrie?” Malachi asks.