Page 2 of Valkyrie Fate
I lose control of my power, the Light of my lyststål winking out.
"Help me," she cries. "Please, help me."
The words never leave her lips, though. She speaks them directly to my soul. In that moment, I understand two things: This fragile little thing isn't human. And I belong to her.
I'm no longer simply Reaper, warrior of the Fae. I'm hers, in every way a Fae can belong to a Valkyrie. And she is a Valkyrie. I feel her Light flickering like a thousand suns as she brands my soul, binding it to hers without even understanding what she's done.
And then she falls limp again, dragged under by whatever drug and whatever horrors the Forsaken have visited upon her.
I sway, coming back to myself with a jolt that rattles my bones.
"Helvete," Malachi breathes from the doorway. "Is she…Valkyrie?"A fierce growl vibrates from my chest as I fall to my knees beside the tub, lifting her out of the cold water. The chill of her skin seeps into me as I pull her onto my lap, wrapping my body around hers protectively.
"I'm here, Valkyrie," I murmur in her ear, working frantically to undo the ropes binding her hands. "I'm here. You're safe."
My breath catches as a shiver runs down her spine, a sudden convulsion taking hold of her frigid body. Her eyes flutter open and closed, their vibrant hue barely visible beneath the thick veil of her lashes.
"Malachi," I bark out without turning, knowing he lurks in the doorway. "She's freezing."
His heavy footfalls sound against the floorboards as he approaches. But before he can cross the threshold to offer aid, a surge of territorial instinct sends an animalistic snarl rumbling from my chest.
"Easy, Reaper." He retreats hastily. "I'm not going to harm her." There's no anger or resentment in his voice; he knows better than to challenge the bond's primal instinct to protect. We can no more control it than we can control the sun.
"I'm here," I murmur into my Valkyrie's ear as another shiver rips through her, my voice a soft whisper meant to soothe her. I brush my hand over her hair in gentle motions, trying to chase away the demons clawing at her fragile consciousness. "You're safe…" The words taste bittersweet on my tongue, but they're a promise I intend to keep. It doesn't matter what fate demands of her or what prophecy expects of her, she will be safe.
"We need blankets." I don't look up to see if Malachi hears me, but a second later, the floorboards vibrate as he retreats down the hall.
"Uh, Damrion?" he shouts a moment later. "We have a situation!"
Nei, this isn't a situation. This is salvation.
We've found our second Valkyrie. Only three more to go until we have the five meant to defeat the Forsaken and restore Valhalla.
"What kind of situation?" Damrion calls back.
"A woman tied up in the bathtub and Reaper not letting anyone close kind of situation," he says. "I think she's Valkyrie."
Footsteps thunder up the steps. I ignore them, working diligently to untie the little Valkyrie in my arms. By the time Damrion, Dax, and Malachi appear at the door, crammed together shoulder-to-shoulder, I've gotten the ropes off her wrists, revealing the ugly burns beneath.
Murderous fury churns in my stomach at the sight of them. The Forsaken hurt her. It's a good thing Rissa already destroyed them. They died far easier under her Light than they would have by my hand.
"Helvete," Damrion growls, peering down at us. He moves as if he's going to step into the bathroom with us.
A fierce growl escapes my throat, warning him in a language beyond words. He may be the only surviving royal the Fae have left, but this Valkyrie is mine to safeguard, chosen by the very Norns themselves. No one is getting close, not even Damrion. "She is afraid," I growl. "Stay back."
"Reaper." Damrion speaks calmly, though I see a glint of surprise flash through his eyes. He raises empty hands in surrender. "I intend no harm, but we need to leave before the police find us here. Let me help you with her."
Ordinarily, I'm happy to taunt the human authorities. It keeps life interesting, and I've gotten good at finding ways to do that over the centuries. But allowing them to find us here will complicate an already delicate situation. We're able to redirect their thoughts and even compel humans to forget they saw us, but there are limits to what we can do. The strongest aren't as easily swayed. They come away with far more memories intact than we'd prefer, but we can't—and won't—bend them to our wills.
Yet there's an instinctual part of me, primal and protective, that responds with a silent snarl anyway, amber eyes flashing dangerously. I don't care if he is our leader. He isn't putting his hands on my mate, not if he wants to keep them.
Tension radiates from our brothers as they watch us with unreadable expressions.
"Perhaps we should let Reaper care for her while we ensure the path is clear," Dax suggests quietly. "There are still varulv lurking around out there." If anyone understands the primal, possessive need coursing through me, it's him. He's the only other Fae in history to be soul-bound to a Valkyrie. Until him and Rissa, we didn't even know it was possible for a Fae to bond with a Valkyrie.
For millennia, our oath of allegiance to Valhalla ensured no single Valkyrie would ever be able to call our souls. But with the portal to Valhalla closed, I suppose our oath no longer holds. Rissa called Dax's soul, and now this little Valkyrie has called mine. Either the Gods believe they need a Fae to guard their souls against the Dark, or the Gods believe we need a Valkyrie to protect ours.
Damrion turns his gold eyes on Dax, regarding him silently. After a moment, he nods before looking at me again. "I meant no offense, brother," he says, his voice soft. "Take care of your Valkyrie." He steps out of the bathroom, leaving an unobstructed path for me and the Valkyrie in my arms.