"Trust me." Those magical eyes lock onto mine, fierce despite the pain. "I'm not done fighting yet."
"So goddamn stubborn—"
"Here." Bryn shoves her blade into my free hand, her skin now ghostly pale against the spreading ice. "Throw me."
Understanding clicks. My grip tightens on her good arm as the giant thrashes blindly, searching for us with his hands.
Left. Up. Death.
I spin, using my strength to launch her straight at the giant's chest. Despite her injuries, Bryn's aim is lethal—her shield slams into its throat, the edge biting deep. The creature stumbles back, hands clawing at the metal embedded in its flesh.
Now. Neck. End it.
Time slows. I blur up the giant's arm, both blades crossed before me. It's skin burns through my clothes, but I don't feel it. All I see is Bryn on the ground, ice crawling up her body, her breaths growing shallow.
Grave Warden and Bryn's sword scissor through the giant's neck, spraying black blood across the snow. The head topples first, crystallizing before it hits the ground. The enormous body follows, crashing down with enough force to shake the ground.
I'm at Bryn's side before the echo fades, gathering her against my chest. The ice has reached her hip, her skin blue and brittle.
"Show off," she manages through chattering teeth, trying to smile despite the pain. "Didn't have to... use both swords."
"Hush." I tear at my jacket, wrapping it around her frozen limbs. "Save your strength."
Her laugh comes out as a pained gasp. "Made quite the team... didn't we, Silfrhár?"
The giant's corpse begins to crack, spreading into a network of fissures before shattering completely. The sound mirrors the fractures spreading through my chest as I cradle Bryn closer, willing my body heat to fight back the deadly cold consuming her.
"Tell me how to fix this." My voice shakes as the ice spreads past her waist. "There has to be something—some Valkyrie healing, some ancient magic—"
"Nothing." Her fingers, blue and trembling, brush my cheek. "Frost giant's touch... it's fatal. Always has been." A bitter laugh escapes her. "At least... I died fighting."
The resignation in her voice ignites something in my chest. Centuries of memories flash through my mind—warriors I've watched die, lovers lost to time, an eternity of helplessness.
Not her. Not Bryn. Not my mate.
"Nothing left... to fight for," she whispers, those eyes growing distant. Each word falls like ice between us.
Disbelief wars with the ache in my chest. How can those words fall so easily from her lips? She's found Dani, a sister who needs her, who already loves her with the fierce devotion only family can inspire.
And she's found me. Her soulmate, her other half, no matter how hard she tries to deny the pull between us—the bond hums with the truth of it, an ancient melody that resonates in our very bones.
"Fuck. That." My voice cracks with centuries of buried emotion. "You don't get to decide you're worthless, Bryn. Not after making me feel—" The words strangle in my throat. "Not after making mecare."
My fangs tear into my wrist with savage force. Blood wells up, dark and potent with power.
"Erik, don't—"
"Shut up." I press my bleeding wrist to her lips, my other hand cradling her head. "For once in your stubborn life, just shut up and let someone save you."
Her resistance lasts only a moment before instinct takes over. Each pull of her mouth sends electricity through my veins, the bond begging to be sealed, flaring bright and wild.
The change is immediate. Where my blood touches her lips, color floods back into her skin. The ice coating her body begins to crack, melting away like spring thaw. Her heartbeat strengthens, the sound of it filling my ears like the sweetest music.
Bryn gasps as feeling returns to her limbs, her body arching against mine. Her fingers dig into my arm, holding my wrist to her mouth as she drinks deeper. The warrior in her finally choosing to fight, to live, to stay.
The beast in me claws at its chains, demanding I complete the bond—take her blood as she takes mine. But ancient law binds me as surely as my own control. The bond must be mutual, willing, chosen.
Still, satisfaction courses through me as I watch life flood back into her body. The blue tinge of death fades, replaced by the vibrant glow of a Valkyrie reborn. Her eyes spark with renewed fire, the shadow of defeat banished by the light of her spirit.
