I squeeze her to me, pressing a kiss to her brow before she stretches across me, flinging her arms around Adriel. “I love you too,” she says, the same fierceness ringing in her voice.
We clutch her between us, sharing a look over her head.
Gods. She’s extraordinary.
She settles between us, sighing with contentment. We lay there for long moments, simply holding her before I feel compelled to speak again.
“We need to talk about what happened, ást-meer,” I say gently. “You went with them willingly. We need to know why. No more secrets.”
She sighs, tensing in our arms. "I didn't have a choice, Damrion. If I didn't go, you were all going to die trying to save Tori. I saw it. The only way to save you and Adriel—to save everyone—was to let them take me."
A low growl rumbles in Adriel's throat as she confirms what we already guessed—she saw what was going to happen. And she willingly let it.
"Don't be angry with me," she pleads. "You would have done the same to save my life."
"Ja," he agrees, his anger tightly leashed. "But that's our right, Valkyrie.”
“It’s mine too,” she argues.
“Nei. We are sworn warriors of Valhalla, pledged to protect the Valkyrie. You are not. And it's not us they're after. It's you."
"Yes, and I know what's at stake. I know what we're facing. And I know that I need both of you to survive it.” Her voice cracks. “Without you to anchor me, they'll win."
Adriel meets my gaze over her head, lifting her into his arms as he sits up. I sit upright, too, not liking the sound of any of this.
“What do you mean?” he growls, clutching her against his chest as if he expects them to burst through the door and try to tear her from his arms.
"What do they want from you? What do you know, ást-meer?" I ask, cradling her face between my palms, forcing her to look at me. "The time for secrets is long past. You have to trust us with what you know, or we can't protect you."
"I'll tell you," she whispers, fear flickering at the edges of the bond. "But we need to gather the others first. They should hear it, too."
It takes Adriel fifteen minutes to rouse everyone and get them downstairs. They gather at the table, bleary-eyed and exhausted. Stephan is the last one to join us, hurrying through the door, still shoving his arms through the holes of his shirt.
“What’s this about?” Malachi grumbles, scrubbing a hand down his face. I don’t think he’s slept at all. He’s too worried about his Valkyrie.
She didn’t wake at all yesterday. We don’t know the last time she was awake or why they’ve kept her so heavily sedated. Do they have reason to fear her power, or are they just that cruel? Until the drugs wear off and she rejoins the land of the living, we won’t have those answers.
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.”
