She pulled Solveig’s head onto her lap and stroked her hair. Solveig welcomed the soothing touch. She felt like a small witchling again, fearful of her own strength and power.
Aelfsi would do as she was doing now and whisper the words of an ancient lullaby to her.
The words returned to her as if in a dream. She couldn’t be sure whether Aelfsi sang them now, or if a dream of dancing with a faceless partner, under the radiance of the setting sun in a silky dress, had carried her into oblivion.
Westleypacedthelengthof North’s rooms. Noren and Viggo had dragged him here by his sister’s order.
He had listened to North as she spoke of how the Asgardian queens had approached her with a plan after learning of Solveig’s capture. They hadn’t told her that he and Solveig were mates, but he already knew they’d figured that out just by watching them at the ball.
The queens had a lot of explaining to do, and hopefully he would hear from Solveig soon.
She was no longer depleted—he could feel her strength returning—but he would leave her to rest, knowing she needed it. But he was restless. After everything North shared, he needed to figure this out with Solveig.
After the initial fog of his animalistic instincts abated, he could listen clearly as his sister spoke to him of Idavoll’s prophecy.
Transcendent blood will bond and destroy
An unsuspecting heir falls prey to their whims
Idavoll will sink, the penance for an unbidden ploy
A mate will rise, kings shall cower, light be dimmed
Ne’er to escape the shadowed lands
Trapped in a grip too tight to break
What was once power now turned to sand
If there be not strength, a trapped darkness shall wake
A chill went down his spine when she said the words, like he’d heard them before but couldn’t place them.
It was clearly about Solveig. He didn’t quite appreciate being referred to as an unsuspecting heir falling prey, but he supposed it was true. He’d let Solveig hunt him down to the ends of Yggdrasil if that’s what she wished. She very well might.
Though a trickle of hope remained in his heart. She hadn’t outright objected to the bond. As far as he knew, however, her betrothal remained intact.
He understood now why he’d never met the queens’ daughter—why he’d heard her name but never encountered her. Anger built within him—rage at his parents for letting him believe he had no mate, that he was destined to be alone. This might very well still happen if Solveig rejected the bond.
His whole body revolted at the notion.
“So, you’re working with Asgard?” Westley asked, unable to keep the accusatory tone from his voice.
“Yes, for some time now,” his sister answered unapologetically.
Westley huffed. “Why did you not tell me?”
“You weren’t ready to hear the truth.”
“Did you ever try?”
North pinned him with a hard look. “Do you remember, about one hundred years ago, the cataclysmic fight we had that nearly took out half the south wing?”
“How could I forget? That was right after South died,” Westley replied, his voice roughened with grief.
“Souther believed with his whole being that what he was doing was right, and it led him straight to his death. I had tried to explain to you that there might be a better way, and you went off on me, nearly drowning me.” North’s face was full of sadness.
“You implied that he had died for no reason,” Westley said, his anger rising.
