Adriel steps closer, as if he intends to shield me from my memories with his presence. "You’re lying to us. You were in pain. We felt it."
“No, I...” I close my eyes, unable to finish the lie as his words register. They felt my pain.
Gods.
I’ve spent weeks trying to mask our bond from them, to hide it so they didn’t know. The moment I felt the bond blaze to life when I found my Light, I buried it as deep as I could. They’ll never accept it. Why torture them with the pain of the visions when it’ll go nowhere?
But in one single moment, I’ve ruined it. Now, they know what I’ve known all along. I’m not tied to one Fae. I’m tied to two. Our souls are bound by some ancient magic even they don’t understand. And they’d rather kill each other than spend an eternity with me.
Damrion and Adriel exchange a look, something unspoken passing between them. Despite everything, my heart thrills at their connection. It’s so powerful. In unguarded moments, when they forget that they hate one another, it blazes as bright as the sun. But they refuse to see it, refuse to even acknowledge it.
My throat threatens to close up at the thought that I may never get to see that day. That we might not survive long enough.
"Please," I beg, desperate to focus on anything other than my own misery. "You have to hurry. If you don't..."
I can't bring myself to finish the sentence. The weight of grief presses down on me, threatening to crush me. I've seen so much death, so much pain. But this is different. More immediate. More devastating.
I can’t lose them. I won’t survive it.
“You’ve been masking the bond,” Damrion says, refusing to drop the subject.
“Faen,” Adriel swears. “How long?”
“I...”
“How long have you known your soul is tied to ours, Abigail?” Adriel demands, his tone short and clipped. He’s angry. Really angry. “How long have you been hiding the bond from us?”
“I was trying to protect you.”
Adriel growls wordlessly, his expression fierce as he stalks toward me.
“Protect us? Nei, Valkyrie,” Damrion growls, anger snapping in his eyes as he advances on the bed. “We are Fae. It is our right to protect you.”
Adriel's fist clenches at his side, frustration radiating off him in waves. "Damn it, Abigail," he snarls. "How are we supposed to protect you if you won't let us?"
"This isn't about protecting me!" I snap back, my own frustration boiling over as I jump to my feet. "It's about saving a life!"
“And we’re supposed to forget that your life is at risk, too?” Adriel growls, his hand slashing through the air. “Nei.” He steps up in front of me, grasping me by the shoulders. “I’ll let this world fall before I let harm come to you, bittesmå ljós.”
“Adriel.”
“Nei, Abigail.” He touches my cheek, his rough hand gentle. He’s killed thousands, but he touches me as if I’m priceless. Something fierce burns in the depth of his eye, searing his expression. “You must survive. If you fall, we fall.”
A tear slips down my cheek. He catches it, wiping it away.
“Don’t cry, bittesmå ljós.”
But I can’t help it. I’m living half a life, my soul torn into pieces because theirs are in pieces—shattered long before I was even born. And I don’t know how to fix it.
“You should have told us,” Damrion says from behind us, weariness and pain in his voice.
Damrion.
I pull away from Adriel, guilt crashing over me like a tidal wave.
“Damrion, I...” I spin to face him, my heart aching.
He refuses to meet my gaze, and I want to cry all over again. Without even meaning to do it, I’ve hurt him. Always, I’m hurting one or the other of them.
"We’ll talk when we return," he says, striding toward the door, "All of us. This...situation between us cannot continue."
My heart clenches at his words and the resignation in his tone. I want to reach out, to beg him to fight for us, but the words stick in my throat. I’m too afraid of what he’ll say.
Deep down, I know he loves Adriel just as intensely as he loves me. Their souls are bound to one another just like they’re bound to mine. And yet…he won’t fight for us. He won’t fight for himself.
I don’t understand.
I don’t want Adriel—at least, I don’t want only Adriel. My heart beats for both of them. My soul cries out for both of them. The same way I know his cries out for me and Adriel—the same way Adriel’s cries out for me and him. But he’s so wracked by self-loathing that he refuses to let himself feel it.
The first few months I was in Eitr, he was so reserved and distant. His golden eyes would meet mine across the courtyard, but there was always a wall there, impenetrable as the layers of ice capping the mountain.
It thawed in increments, so slowly I didn’t even realize it was happening at first. But little by little, it did. He softened, started coming to visit me, and then spending hours with me every day.
And Adriel... Gods, Adriel. His one dark eye would follow us, filled with anger I didn't understand. I'd catch snippets of their arguments sometimes, my name a point of contention between them.
"She doesn't belong here," Adriel snarled one night, not realizing I was close enough to overhear.
"She's Blooded," Damrion replied, his voice tight. "Where would you have her go? Who else would you have protect her if not us?"
