Their hooves kicked up sand, creating a cloud of glitter that sparkled in the rising sun.
Westley had to move out of their way quickly as they rapidly approached, hiding in the rocks that crested the beach. Wild Asgardianhorses were territorial and would not take kindly to a stranger wandering into their midst.
Their vibrant colours—deep blacks, warm browns, crisp whites, and lush blonds—were a moving tapestry. Glorious and intricate. In the middle of the herd, a flash of copper caught his eye. He had to squint into the rising sun to see Helle running with her kind.
She was a magnificent beast and the sight of her pierced Westley’s heart.
He was about to head back to the castle when a flutter of white fabric caught his attention. As the herd came closer, he noticed a figure among the horses, running with them, through them. Solveig emerged, her long legs bare and loose white tunic billowing behind her.
She ran with the horses, almost leading them. Her face held joy and contentment as she slowed enough to allow Helle to catch up, using one arm to swing herself up onto her horse’s back without stopping.
Westley stood rooted to the spot, mesmerised by her grace and beauty. The sun continued to rise and the colours exploded across the beach as Solveig passed his hiding place.
Her bare legs gripped Helle’s sides and her arms flew out, eyes closed as she let the wind whip behind her.
She was a goddess.
Goddess of the sun that rose to crown her, of the sand that bowed at her feet, and of the broken pieces of Westley’s soul.
He stepped out from behind the rocks as she passed, unable to keep himself hidden, unable to stop his heart from leaping, from calling out to her. Her head whipped around and they locked eyes. She hesitated only a moment before jumping off Helle and letting the horses ride off without her.
They stood like statues, watching each other. Westley yearned to reach for her.
Was it a trick of the light, or did she take a deep breath before making her way over to him?
The sun rose behind her, bathing her in a golden glow. He should’ve moved but he couldn’t, held captive under her spell.
Nerves he’d never felt before—not on the cusp of battle nor in the midst of war—itched along his skin.
His heart had never beat so furiously as it did when she stepped towards him.
Magic flared out of him, the force of it whipping her hair back. It caressed her face before lunging towards the water. The sea answered his call, his need for release, rising behind her like a tidal wave.
She turned to marvel at it, no fear as she took in the wall of water that hung in the air as if frozen in time.
It was the first time she was truly seeing the vast expanse of his power—a power still limited by the shadow Block.
She must trust him not to hurt her, and that thought alone made him take a step towards her. Light filtered through the wave, casting glittering refractions of the sun’s rays like diamonds. As he reached her, she finally turned to meet his gaze.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he answered.
“You don’t?”
It was a struggle to swallow the lump in his throat.
“Do you hate me?” He hoped that hadn’t sounded as pathetic as he felt in this moment, crumpling under the weight of his feelings for her. Under the possibility and fear of her answer.
“You captured me.” He flinched. Though her words held no bite, the truth stung anyway.
“I will regret it for the rest of my days, Solveig.”
She nodded once, as if she already knew that. He hoped she believed him.
He would’ve meant the words before his epiphany last night, but now that he knew who she was to him, he couldn’t see a plane of existence in which he could forgive himself.
What he’d done would haunt him for all his days and would follow him to wherever the gods deemed him worthy of resting in the afterworld. Immortality was a fallacy. No being truly lived forever, not even the gods. And Westley would live out millennia if he had to, paying penance for what he’d done to his mate.
