"I can't—" Bryn's voice breaks, muffled against Dani's shoulder as they cling to each other. "How can I be a Valkyrie with one wing?" The proud warrior I know is gone, replaced by someone small and broken.
"I know." Dani's tears mingle with her sister's, her failure to fully heal Bryn— cutting more profound than any blade. "I'm so sorry. But this doesn't define you, Bryn. You're still a warrior, wings or no wings."
The words hang in the frozen air, well-meaning but hollow against the weight of what's been lost.
Rhyland
36
Sleipnir's hooves touch down with impossible grace, Baldr's stupid ass glinting in the weak sunlight. "Is everyone intact?" he calls out, with that particular brand of bullshit concern that's about as genuine as fool's gold.
"Where the fuck were you hiding, pretty boy?" I snarl, my fury barely contained. Dani cradles Bryn against her chest—Dani's pain ricocheting through our bond like a constant ache. It hits me so hard my knees nearly buckle, but I'll be damned if I show weakness in front of this coward.
Baldr has the decency to look ashamed, his perfect features twisting into something almost human. "I... well... you see..." he stammers, each word evident with divine privilege. "My gifts lie in peace and beauty. Combat isn't exactly my forte."
"Peace and beauty?" I bark out a harsh laugh, spitting at Sleipnir's feet, earning an indignant snort from the eight-legged beast. "Yourpeacegot her wing torn off while you were probably admiring your reflection in some frozen pond."
"Enough, Rhyland." Bryn's voice cracks through the air like a whip, even as she struggles to stand. Her remaining wing tucks close to her back. "Save your venom for actual enemies. This was my battle to lose."
Heimdall unfolds like a avalanche, his mighty frame blocking out what little sunlight filters through the clouds. At his full height, he towers over us like a living monument, his armor catching the weak light in mesmerizing patterns. "Time grows short. We move."
The bitter wind cuts through our clothes like frozen knives as Gullfax carries us deeper into the heart of winter. Ice crystals form in my beard, and Dani's shivers vibrate against my chest. The forest around us is dead silent, the kind of quiet that makes your teeth ache, and your instincts scream.
Mymind drifts back to the battle, to Dani wielding power like a fucking force of nature. The Aquanite stone had sung to her, she'd said—and watching her command the frozen landscape, turning snow and ice into deadly weapons, I finally understood why. My little scientist, turning winter itself into her personal arsenal.
But it was nothing compared to when she went nuclear.
The memory of her previous explosion at the hotel still haunts me—shattered glass raining down like deadly diamonds, the room looking like someone had detonated a light bomb. But this? This was something else entirely.
She'd burned like a newborn star, her rage painting the world in shades of celestial vengeance. The very air had crackled around her, reality-warping under the weight of her fury. If it wasn't for her blood singing through my veins—that precious connection binding us together—I would've gone up in flames like a vampire torch. Even with her essence protecting me, my skin blistered and healed in an endless cycle as I fought to reach her.
But what choice did I have? Let her obliterate everything within a mile radius? Watch her burn herself out like a supernova? Fuck that. She might be the most powerful being in the Seven Realms, but she's still my mate. My responsibility. My everything.
Three fucking hours of this frozen wasteland, and still no sign of our destination. Just endless snow and the sound of everyone's footsteps behind us.
"There." Baldr's voice carries on the wind as he gestures toward a mountain that seems to pierce the very sky. Its peak disappears into the storm clouds, ancient and forbidding. Gullfax picks his way through the deep snow, his coat collecting frost as we approach the mountain's base, where a extensive wind tunnel yawns open like the mouth of some prehistoric beast.
I slide off Gullfax's back, my boots sinking into knee-deep snow. Reaching up, I wrap my hands around Dani's waist, lifting her down beside me. Her body trembles against mine, whether from cold or anticipation. I don't know.
Erik, Bryn, and Heimdall stand at the tunnel's entrance, their forms silhouetted against the swirling darkness. The wind howls through the opening like a thousand lost souls, making Bryn's remaining wing flutter against her back.
The wind shrieks through the tunnel like a banshee's cry, making conversation nearly impossible. Dani's teeth chatter as she presses closer to my side. "N-now what?"
"Shelter." Baldr dismounts Sleipnir with his usual divine grace, his short hair whipping around his face. "Before we all freeze solid."
The tunnel swallows us whole, its rocky throat stretching endlessly into the mountain's gut. Our boots crunch against frozen gravel, echoing off the wind-carved walls. Behind us, Gullfax and Sleipnir's hooves click against stone, both beasts eager to escape the bitter cold.
Baldr's pack hits the ground with a thunderous crack that bounces off the walls. He crouches, rummaging through his supplies. "Fire," he announces like we can't all see our breath crystallizing in front of our faces. "Unless anyone enjoys turning into ice sculptures."
Erik and Heimdall move like shadows, gathering what sparse wood they can find. The pile grows beside Baldr as he strikes his flint, cursing in ancient Norse as the wind snuffs out each spark before it can catch.
Dani rolls her eyes and steps forward. "Move." Her palm ignites like a miniature sun, and she flicks her wrist, sending a ball of flame dancing through the air. It kisses the wood, and the whole pile erupts in a satisfying whoosh of heat and light.
"Well," Baldr's lips curl into a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "That's certainly more efficient than flint and steel."
The fire's warmth seeps into our frozen bones as we crowd around it. Bryn retrieves a leather bladder from her pack, her remaining wing twitching with barely contained emotion. She tilts her head back, throat working as she drinks deep—the kind of desperate swallows that speak of drowning pain rather than quenching thirst.
Beside me, Dani tears into a strip of jerky with savage determination, her jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth. The sound of her aggressive chewing echoes off the cave walls, mixing with the endless howl of the wind.
