I grab his throat, ready to tear it out—then warmth spreads across me. Dani's palm presses against my chest. My heart hammers against her touch, betraying everything. Her eyes dart between me and Bryn as pieces fall into place. There's no judgment in her gaze—just quiet acceptance and relief.
"He's not worth it," she whispers, fingers curling into my shirt. "Let him live with his shame."
The piece of shit whimpers beneath me, his face a masterpiece of purple bruises and flowing blood.
Gunnar crumples to the floor. My gaze finds Bryn's—dual-colored eyes wide with shock. Something electric passes between us, unspoken yet deafening. The welt on her cheek feeds the inferno in my veins.
I tear myself away before the beast breaks free. The longhouse door splinters as I burst into the night. The Arctic wind does nothing to cool my rage. My boots crack through ice-crusted snow, leaving violent impressions.
Without Dani's intervention, that Viking's blood would have painted those walls.
The thought of his hands onher, that mark on her face—my control splinters like the ice beneath my feet.
Through it all, Rhyland smirked from his corner, watching my composure snap because someone dared touch what's mine.
The evidence accumulates like battlefield casualties. That Viking bastard's ham-fisted attempts at dominance. His meaty hands presuming ownership while her wing pulls tight against her spine. The dead look in her eyes at his advances.
Bloody fucking hell.
Her tells are impossible to ignore now: the delay before acknowledging his touch, the subtle shift when he approaches, the way her eyes would find mine across the longhouse like a silent plea.
These truths burn through my defenses like acid. Rhyland, subtle as a war hammer, forced me to confront what I've been denying. Yet she still chose him—chose that bastard's abuse over everything I could offer.
"Erik, wait!" Bryn's boots crunch through the snow behind me, but I lengthen my stride. Looking at her now would shatter what remains of my control. Her choice was clear enough—let her return to her arrogant brute.
The stable's warmth envelops me as I stride inside. Flickering torchlight dances across rough-hewn beams, casting restless shadows. Sweet hay and leather tack fill my lungs as I plant my feet in the center aisle, seeking any anchor against this storm.
Wood groans as Bryn heaves the stable doors shut. Her footsteps echo off the stone as she approaches. "You didn't have to do that. Why do you always feel the need to protect—"
Something snaps. I pivot to face her, my pulse racing. "Because." The word tears from my throat. "Are you truly soblind?"
The purple welt marring her cheek feeds my rage—another failure to protect what's mine.
"Blind?" Bryn's laugh cuts sharp and bitter. "I see perfectly clear. I'm half a Valkyrie now—stripped of my command, my honor." Her wing trembles with tension. "What good am I to anyone?"
"You truly believe that?" I stalk toward her, each step measured despite the rage and need coursing through me. "The warrior who's trained harder than any other? Who fights with more skill using one wing than most possess with two?"
"Don't." She backs away, but her scent betrays her—sweet honey and lightning, laced with arousal. "I don't need your pity."
"Pity?" The word tastes like poison. "Is that what you think this is?" Another step closer, backing her toward the stable wall. Her pulse quickens, and her pupils dilate. "You think I defend you out of duty?"
"Why else would you?" Her voice wavers, but her chin lifts in defiance. "I'm broken, Erik. Damaged. Even the Valkyries don't want—"
"You aremagnificent." The words tear from my throat as I close the distance. "Every scar, battle, triumph, and loss make you who you are." My body cages hers against the wall, close enough to feel her heat but not quite touching. Her scent floods my senses, making my fangs ache. "While you chase validation from lesser men, you fail to see your own worth."
"And you think you know my worth?" Her breath catches as I lean closer, her arousal spiking sharply enough to make my cock hard as steel.
"I see everything." My voice drops to a dangerous whisper. "Your strength. Your resilience. Your beauty." Each word brings me closer until barely a breath separates us. "The way you move in battle like a goddess of war. The fire that burns in your eyes when you fight."
"Stop it." Bryn ducks under my arm, retreating deeper into the stables. "You don't get to say these things. Not now." Her scent betrays her—desire mixing with fury.
"Why not?" I follow her measured retreat, every step a predator stalking prey. "Because it challenges your carefully constructed self-hatred?"
"Because it's lies!" She whirls on me, backing into a support beam. "Look at me, Erik! Really look! One wing, stripped of rank, fucking an asshole just to prove I still can—"
"And how's that working for you?" My words cut sharp and precise. "Does his touch satisfy? Or do you lie there, thinking of someone else?"
Her cheeks flush, pupils blown wide. "You arrogant bastard—"
