Page 46

In Old Skaldir, I gave myself to him, fully, truly, and for the first time. I’m yours, I’d said, and I meant it with every part of my being.

“I’m yours,” I whispered aloud. The crystal burst with a blinding glow and simmered in my hands. My palms were on fire until I dropped the soul in my lap. It landed in the fabric of my skirt, and I stared at it, huffing for breath. My hands burned, stinging and vibrating as the pain tingled and subsided. “Fuck,” I breathed.

“Are you okay?” Stasia asked.

I dragged my eyes up toward Soren, who stood with his arms crossed and a smirk plastered across his face. “He’s right,” I said.

“Damn right I am.” He unfolded his arms and shoved his fingers through his thick hair. “If Drak’s the king of Vylheim, I’m the king of souls.” He bent forward, face in mine, smelling of bonfire smoke and when rain hits the earth, two opposites that didn’t exist well at one time. He was a living contradiction: a male Valkyrie, and a soul stealer from those without souls. “Now you let me lead.”

I forced a grim smile. “Well, you’re as obsessed with control as Drak, that’s for fucking sure.”

He grunted and nodded. “Sure, whatever. Honestly, I’m just saying I knew Drak as well.” Something broke in his voice when he said it. I’d grown skilled at recognizing the hurt that admitting truth brings to the speaker. Hurt before freedom. Admission always started painfully, like setting a broken bone so that it could heal.

“Of course,” I said, softening to him. Soren wasn’t the asshole he wanted everyone to believe. A criminal, maybe, but only to the monsters who deserved it.

We continued down the mountain, much to Stasia’s delight. She prattled on about sweetened tea, what changes she’d make to Mara’s Keep if she were in charge, and Finan. She was an open book, admitting Finan had changed a lot since they were little, but her feelings for him hadn’t changed. No wonder I adored her friendship. Stasia spoke the truth almost as proudly as Drak, but of course, she had no real secrets to hide. She was an angel to most, a baker to many, loved by all except the vampires she manipulated when she feigned enjoyment while they fed on her. If they had turned her into a vampire while lost in their bloodlust, she’d have woken undead and mapped her pathway to the throne.

As the sun set and sent darkness shrouding the valley, I stepped up beside Soren. We stopped just inside Old Skaldir and surveyed the crumbling structures.

I touched his arm.

He flinched and shot me a look of surprise. “If you’re wondering if there’re souls here. Yeah, there’s four, maybe five hundred here, but they’re not crystalized. I sense their memories, from humans, not vampires. With this many around, I can’t pinpoint a single one, not without enough time to sift through them. So I can’t confirm if the piece of Drak’s⁠—”

“That’s not what I was thinking,” I said, shaking my head. “I just wanted to say, Drak kept your secret.” He stared ahead, his heavy lashes flickering as his gaze crossed over the brutalized landscape. “Until the very end, he kept you a secret. He didn’t even tell me much, I had to learn about you from your father. I don’t know what happened between you and Drak, but I know this.” I faced him, but he didn’t meet my eyes. “Drak protects the people he loves.” I laid a hand on his shoulder. “I think…that was his way of protecting you.”

With that, I left his side.

Stasia flopped onto a chunk of stone wall that’d fallen to the ground. Neither of them followed me, but after a few minutes of walking away from them, Soren’s voice lifted.

“I’m sorry I can’t help.”

“Don’t be,” I said without turning back. “I know exactly where the last piece is.” I smiled, marching straight to the spot where we’d set up camp the first time I came to Old Skaldir with a vampire at my side. Apparently, my words piqued their interest, because I heard footsteps jogging up behind me, and Stasia shouted she didn’t want to be excluded.

I expected the heavy air to make my lungs sting and for the memories to weigh on me. I expected sadness to bloom within me as I returned to Old Skaldir with the full realization of the life I had lost here, but I didn’t expect the giddiness rising in my chest.

Despite the tears swimming in my vision, I couldn’t stop smiling.

I was the reason Drak had felt human again, even when he had no soul.

The crystal shimmered, humming with life. I kept it wrapped in the bottom hem of my skirt as I dipped to my knees in the dust, and with my free hand, I brushed my palm over the dirt, touching the place we once called home. This was where we’d built a tent, and I gave my body, mind, and heart to him. My soul belonged to him long before.

Tears slipped over the edge and dotted the dirt with wet speckles. With both hands, I withdrew and raised the crystal, lowering it to the ground, and though this shard was from the memories of this current life, I found myself in the spot where Rune had once died fighting West Anglor, holding a piece of him again.

I flipped my palm up, eyeing the scars from my other attempts. Without a word, Soren knew to slip me the dagger I’d used in the cells. I took it and hummed my gratitude as I kept my eyes on the old runes I’d carved into my flesh.

I gripped the hilt in my fist and angled it toward my hand. Two symbols, one new rune.

It had to be gebo, the rune for love. Eager now, I dug the blade into my skin where I reopened the same wounds over and over. I ignored the slice of pain as I dragged the tip through my scars and blood rushed to the surface, pooling in the lines and dripping down my wrist. With one line carved, I dropped it down and then up again, creating two peaks before drawing another parallel line and completing gebo.

My tears dropped into the wound, sharpening the sting until I seethed. Even though Drak would have preferred me to rest when my body became so brutalized like this, I wouldn’t yet because I was too desperate to touch him and be in his presence again. The dream felt like a wicked trick, and I’d been unable to reproduce it since that day aboard the longship.

What else would create the right rune? Partnership? Joy? I closed my eyes, forcing more tears out and sliding down my dusty cheeks.

Tell me, Drak. What made you feel human?

Soren shuffled behind me but remained quiet, waiting and watching me alongside Stasia.

To me, Drak was human when he protected me, and when he gave his life for me. He’d never lost that part of his humanity. He was the first to recognize my struggles and acknowledge that my heart was weak, and that instead of hiding it and pretending I was strong, I needed rest. He gave me that.