Valkyrie Song (Valkyrie Bound #5)

Chapter Six

Kara

Kara

I pace the living area, waiting for Stephan to finish filling in my sisters and their mates on…everything. I'm glad he's doing the talking instead of me because I don't even know where to start. My mind isn't even on the conversation. It's with Ing.

He's curled up on the rug in front of the fireplace, his ears twitching as he eyes my sisters and their mates warily. Grief flows from him in a steady flood, prickling at my heart.

After Rider…changed? Turned? I don't even know what to call it, but after Rider tried to attack us, Stephan quickly decided the best place for Ing was at my side, after all. I think he's afraid of the varulv tracking him down and turning him, too.

" Faen ," Malachi snarls, spinning to face Damrion, his face a thundercloud. "They're turning the vargúlfr's offspring."

"Ja." Damrion looks faintly ill at the thought. "Possibly."

"What do you mean possibly? They saw it with their own eyes." Malachi flings a hand to indicate me and Stephan, making me flinch. "The vargúlfr's offspring are turning."

"What are the… vargúlfr ?" Abigail asks, tucking a foot up underneath her in her chair. "I've never heard that word."

"Me either," Rissa says through a yawn.

"It means werewolves," Dax murmurs to his mate and Abigail, whose eyes widen in shock. "Shapeshifters."

"There are shapeshifters in Valhalla?" Tori turns wide eyes on Ing, who lowers his head and stares into the flames. If he understands what she's saying, I can't tell.

"Nei. The ability to change form was lost to their kin long ago." Dax passes a hand in front of his face, sighing. It's the middle of the night and everyone is exhausted. "Once, there were many who could do so. They were birthed by Odin's wolves, Geri and Freki. But those two always preferred the freedom of their animal forms. They assumed human form only when Odin required it. Their offspring were much the same way. After Ragnarok, the vargúlfr stopped shifting altogether." He glances at Ing. "Now, they exist only in this form."

I stare down at the wolf, a little awed to learn just how well his name fits him. He really is descended from the Great Ones. Is that why their way of speaking feels so familiar? Because, once upon a time, his ancestors knew what it was to be human and speak our human languages?

"So he's the offspring of shapeshifters," Rissa says, her gaze flickering from him to me. "Does he know?"

"Maybe." I shrug, not sure how to answer that. "He tends to share only what he thinks is important. He told me he was descended from the Great Ones, but he never explained what that meant."

Perhaps I should have asked. I feel like I failed him tonight, and because I failed, he lost his family. Everyone he loves is gone now, ripped away by the same shadow that hunts us. This isn't his war to fight, yet he's been thrust into the middle of it anyway.

It isn't fair to him. It isn't fair to any of them. Valhalla is supposed to be their haven too, their reward for the way their ancestors served Odin and the gods. And now, we've brought war right back to its doorstep. And I'm no longer sure they get to sit this one out. If the varulv really are turning them… Gods, it almost doesn't bare thinking about. Because the truth is far too grim. Ing is a good wolf, an honorable one. And yet, a single bite could turn him to the Dark just like it did Rider.

Rissa nods, her eyes still locked on the wolf. "Are there more out there?"

"Likely," Adriel says. "Valhalla has always been home to Geri and Freki's children."

Malachi sighs unhappily, causing Marion to slip her hand into his. "Which means it's possible the varulv are out there right now, creating their own army. One wickedly strong and impossible to control. Lovely."

"We don't know that for fact," Damrion argues. "One wolf isn't a pattern. Perhaps Stephan and Kara missed something."

"Like what?"

Damrion says nothing, his expression trouble. I don't think he has an answer. He's just trying to offer a little hope. It doesn't feel like there is any, not in this situation. The Forsaken are using the varulv to build an army of wolves right here in Valhalla. And when we're occupied with fending them off, they'll come for all of us.

Abigail shifts in her chair, shivering as if she's had the same exact thought. It's not a particularly kind one.

We have to figure out how to free those souls and stop the Forsaken.

"So we find his packmates," Stephan says. "And either establish a pattern or ease our minds."

Damrion's gaze flickers in my direction. "Kara, Valkyrie…" He glances at Ing, his gold eyes inscrutable. "Would he be willing to take us to where his pack ran into the varulv?"

I step toward Ing to ask him, only to pause when his consciousness brushes against mine. An image of him leading us through the forest lands in my mind—sent by him.

He's listening to the conversation, and he understands what Damrion wants him to do. I eye him again, caught off guard. I knew he was fiercely intelligent. But until now, he's avoided the Fae at all costs. I assumed it was because he was leery of them.

I don't think that's the case at all.

You aren't afraid of them, are you?

This time, he sends a series of images. Fae and wolves running together, fighting together. Fae roaming freely through Valhalla…and wolves doing the same. They pass one another, going in opposite directions. One of the warriors bows to the wolves. When he straightens, I catch a glimpse of his face. He could be Damrion's twin.

Ing's next image quickly unravels that thought. The Fae isn't Damrion's twin. It's Damrion himself.

Shock runs through me in a current.

You remember him? How?

Another series of images come, strung together like sentences this time. Damrion smells familiar, like Valhalla and memory. All of the Fae do.

But you weren't even…

I let the thought trail off, shaking my head. Clearly, it doesn't matter if he was alive when the Fae left Valhalla or not. He remembers them anyway, as if wolf memory is as instinctive and integral as their need to hunt.

"Princess." Stephan places a hand on my back, recalling my attention.

I glance up to find all eyes in the room on me, varying degrees of curiosity stamped across the faces of my sisters and their mates. My cheeks heat, the urge to hide behind Stephan rising swiftly. But unlike when I was a kid, there is no judgement staring back at me, nothing that makes me feel like I'm something less than or other than . These Fae don't think I'm weird, and neither do my sisters. They just…accept me as one of them.

Gratitude wells in my chest, fierce and infinite.

"He says he'll take us," I murmur, clearing my throat. And then I glance at Damrion. "And he remembers you."

Surprise flashes in Damrion's eyes. "Remembers me?"

"I think their memories are different than ours," I explain. "He's never met you, but he has…memories of the Fae that stretch back a long time." I run my gaze over the assembled group. "A really long time."

"It's their connection to this place," Dax murmurs by way of explanation. "Or perhaps to Odin himself. They live longer, remember more, are stronger. They were one of his most powerful weapons, and we fought side by side often."

Well, that explains some of those memories, then.

"Will the warriors be okay with him here? In the village, I mean?" I ask.

"Ja," Adriel answers. "We'll make sure of it, Valkyrie. No harm will come to him here."

"Thank you," I murmur gratefully.

"My Valkyrie needs sleep," Reaper announces into the ensuing silence, placing his hand over her belly.

Abigail lights up like a firework at the sight. Rissa and Marion both smile. Even the warriors seem lighter suddenly. Once she told Reaper that she thought she was pregnant, there was no keeping it from anyone.

Within hours, he was demanding pregnancy tests be brought through the Portal for her. I may never forget the sight of Rhistel and his warriors delivering a bag overflowing with tests to him. Or the way he scooped Tori up and raced off with her to take one.

I'm happy for them. And I'm happy everyone knows. We're taking every precaution we can to protect her and the baby. I think Reaper would much prefer to wrap her in bubble wrap and hide her away, but even he knows that isn't possible. She's a Valkyrie, and we need her just as much as we need Rissa, or Abigail, or Marion.

He has drastically reduced her excursions to the Portal, however. Unless all five of us and a regiment of warriors accompany her, she doesn't go. She grumbles about it, but I don't think she minds so much. She wants their baby safe more than anything.

"Reaper," she groans softly. "I'm fine."

"Nei, little Valkyrie," he grunts. "You're tired. You barely slept."

"I wonder why," Malachi stage whispers to Adriel, earning an unrepentant grin from Reaper.

Both Abigail and Marion scowl daggers at their mates when Tori fidgets, blushing. But honestly…when you live in a house full of mated Fae, there is no hiding certain activities. And there are a lot of activities in this house.

"Everyone should get some sleep," Damrion says. "We'll leave first thing in the morning to look for the pack. In the meantime, Stephan and I will alert the warriors that they need to keep an eye out for the varulv." His eyes flash. "Once we find them, we hunt."

Ing snarls softly, his agreement with Damrion's plan clear as bells to everyone.

I'm still wide awake, anxiously pacing the confines of my small room when Stephan taps on the door nearly an hour later and then slips inside. His eyes immediately come to me, carefully checking me over.

"You should be sleeping, Valkyrie," he rumbles.

"I went to check on Ing." It's not a total lie. I did just check on Ing. He opted to bed down in front of the fire for the night. I think he'd much prefer to be outside, but until we know for sure if the varulv are turning the wolves of Valhalla, it's not a risk I'm willing to take with him. He's…my friend. One of very few I've ever had in my life. I refuse to risk him needlessly.

"He's still in front of the fire."

"He's grieving."

"So are you."

"I didn't even know Rider."

"That doesn't mean his death didn't hurt you."

"I…feel like I failed," I whisper, glancing down at the floor. "Ever since the Forsaken tried to cross through the Bifrost, the animals have been on edge. They've felt something, and it's been growing steadily. If I'd put the pieces together, maybe Ing wouldn't have lost his family."

"You aren't responsible for what happened to them, Kara."

"It feels like I am." I swallow hard, my throat burning. "I killed Rider."

"No. You saved him from a life in shackles, one chained to the Dark and the Forsaken and their evil. He didn't willingly hand his soul to the Dark for them to twist and use. It was stolen from him. You stole it back, ensured they couldn't force him to do evil, monstrous things. That isn't killing, princess. That's mercy."

It's hard to doubt the conviction ringing in his voice. He's so confident, so assured, as if he knows this for fact. But part of me feels guilty anyway. Ing brought Rider to me for help. He didn't get that.

Stephan cocks his head to the side and then holds his hand out toward me. "Come here."

"I'm right in front of you."

"I know, but I want you right here, princess. Come."

I huff like I'm annoyed, but I'm not. Truthfully, I want to be closer to him too. Now that he's talking to me, I always want to be closer. Avoiding him for the past couple of days has been so freaking hard. I actually…missed him.

I shuffle toward him, which makes him grin.

"I like when you obey me, Kara."

"Don't get used to it." I scowl at him. "It won't happen often."

"Oh, I'm well aware." His grin grows as he snags my arm, reeling me in until I'm practically crushed against his chest, his lips inches from mine. "Why do you think I like it so fucking much? It's a rarity. When you listen, it's because you want to listen."

"Or maybe I just don't want to argue."

"Nah, that's not it. You love defying me." He tucks strands of hair behind my ear, his callused fingers trailing along my cheek. "In fact, I think you live for it, don't you?"

"No."

"Little liar. You weren't made to obey, Kara. You know you weren't." His hand slides down the side of my face and then around my throat. I like the feel of it there. It's…sustaining, grounding. And somehow, it manages to set me on fire at the same time. Or maybe that's the fact that I feel energy humming everywhere we're pressed together. I feel him in a way I've never felt anyone, like he's a piece of me, some vital part that exists outside my body.

Is that what the matebond is? Is this how it feels? I don't know, but it's terrifying and not nearly terrifying enough at the same time. I want this man, perhaps more than I want anything. He looks at me and my freaking soul sings with longing.

But am I just setting myself up for heartbreak here?

"You obey me because you know you can trust me with your safety. With your life." His lips brush mine, his hand a gentle vise around my throat. "With your heart."

"Stephan," I whisper, my heart pounding like a drum. "This is a bad…"

His lips on mine silence me. "We aren't going backward, Valkyrie," he growls softly. "You already let me in when you let me kiss you earlier. You can't take it back now."

Is that what I want? To take it back? To undo it?

The answer wells up from my soul.

No. Gods no. I want…him. And I don't want to face losing him.

I think I was falling for him before he ever stepped from the shadows. Now that he has, now that the bond has started growing between us, I'm in a freefall. I don't know which way is up or down or where I'm going to land. I just know I want him there when I do.

"The Forsaken took everything from me, Stephan. They killed my family right in front of me. My mom, my little sister. My grandmother. Tell me that they're not going to take you the same way," I plead quietly. "Promise that I'm not going to lose you."

"The Norns didn't put my soul in your keeping just to rip it away from you," he says, grabbing my hand. He places it against his heart, his eyes locked on my face. I feel the steady pounding against my palm and find strength there. I find safety there, too. This man is my shelter. "This is yours, Valkyrie. No matter what comes for us or how it ends, I will always be yours."

I whimper softly, the last of my resistance falling away. How can it stand in the face of such gravelly spoken devotion? Of such utter capitulation? He isn't fighting this. He isn't resisting. He's just…willingly handing over his whole heart and soul to me, as if he knows they're mine to keep.

That's how much he believes in me—in us.

How can I do anything other than offer him the same faith in return? The same hope? I can't.

" ég fer tangae sem tú fere ," I whisper, leaning forward to press my lips to his.

He groans, pulling me up against his chest. "Kara, my Valkyrie. My princess." The possessive edge to his wild kiss sears me, burning deep. I feel it all the way in my soul, and mine responds. My Light surges forward in a fiery rush, rolling through me and into him.

He gasps, his hands tightening on me, as his eyes flash to molten gray rock. "Do that again," he orders, his voice a thick, purring rasp.

"I d-don't know how. It just happened," I whisper.

His smile is downright predatory as he sweeps me up in his arms, kissing me again. "Oh, I can think of a few ways to make it happen again, princess," he whispers against my lips, striding toward my narrow bed. "Let's test them, shall we?"

"I…I…I've never…" I practically squirm as he lays me out on top of the blankets and furs, heat burning in my cheeks. "I've never done this before, Stephan."

One brow quirks. "You think I have?"

"I…" I gape up at him, shocked speechless. "You haven't?"

"Nei. I've been waiting for you, Kara. My whole life, I've been waiting for you. I just didn't realize who I was waiting for until I set eyes on you." He reaches over his shoulder, grabbing his shirt. I swallow hard as he yanks it up over his head.

My gaze immediately drifts down his body, my mouth going dry. Good Gods, he's beautiful everywhere. A smattering of dark hair covers his broad chest, before a strip trails down the center of his rock hard abdomen. Brutal scars litter his body in a dozen different places, and not a single one detracts from how gorgeous he is. Not even the ragged scar bisecting his side. If anything, they only add a savage, wild edge to his beauty.

He turns to set his sword aside and I see another scar across his back, nearly as ragged and brutal as the one across his side—standing as a reminder that he's defied death once before, perhaps more often than that. This man isn't tame. Every inch of him was crafted for war, hewn for battle, and forged for the impossible. He wears it like a crown—proudly, unashamed.

"You're beautiful, Stephan," I whisper when he turns back to me.

He grins, reaching for the button of his pants. "Glad you think so, princess. I intend to be the only man you ever see this way."

I don't have to ask to know I'll be the only woman. The truth is written all over his face. It reflects deep in his eyes. And I understand him in a way I didn't before. He may be human, called to fight a war by the ancient blood singing in his veins, but his soul is something else entirely. It's pure warrior, exactly like the Fae. That's why he identifies with them. That's why they accept him. He may not share their blood, but their souls are the same in every way that counts.

He drops his pants, his cock springing free…and I lose the ability to think. To speak. Good Gods…

I press my legs together to ease the ache screaming there, but it doesn't help. Nothing does as he wraps a fist around himself and strokes once, his eyes locked on me.

"If I climb on that bed with you, we'll be adding to the noise in this house tonight, princess," he says in a deep growl. "Stop me now if you aren't ready."

"I've never been more ready, warrior."

His eyes light up, blazing with pride. With desire. He strides toward me. Sinks onto the bed with me. And I'm lost as he wraps around me, his hard body pressing mine deeper into the softness below me.

"One of us is drastically overdressed, princess," he murmurs against my lips. "And it isn't me."

I loop my arms around his neck, shivering in delight at the way he runs his hands up and down my sides. "Maybe you should do something about that then."

Stephan never has to be told something twice. A soft purr vibrates from his lips before he slants them down over mine, claiming my mouth in a hot kiss. Our tongues slide together and then break apart, only to twine together again.

His hands shift up my sides, raking my shirt up with them. I feel his fingertips trailing along my skin and shiver, moaning.

"So soft," he murmurs against my lips. "So beautiful."

He breaks away, pulling my shirt up over my head. His eyes rake down my chest, the heat banked in them growing. "No bra."

"We're preparing for war. I'm not fighting it in a bra, Stephan. No way."

A grin dances across his lips before he bends his head suddenly. I cry out, my back bowing from the bed as his lips close around my right nipple. He sucks hard, sending shards of pleasure stabbing through me.

"By all means, Valkyrie," he growls against my skin. "Skip the bra. Makes it far easier for me to do this."

"Stephan!" I thrust my hands into the short strands of his hair, holding him to me.

He chuckles, biting down gently.

I sob in ecstasy, babbling…something. I don't even know what.

He lifts his head and blows across my nipple before paying the same attention to the left, leaving me a quivering mess beneath him. Gods, I didn't know physical touch could feel like this. It's divine.

His fingers hook into the waistband of my pajama shorts, his lips trailing down my chest to my stomach. I squirm beneath him, releasing his hair to place my hand over the biggest part of my stomach.

His eyes flash to mine. "Don't try to hide from me, Kara," he growls, gently prying my hand away. "I want to worship every inch of you."

"I…I…" I squirm again. "Every inch of me isn't beautiful, Stephan."

His eyes practically glow, so much emotion in them that I can't read it. "Whoever taught you to see yourself that way deserves to be put in front of the firing squad, princess," he says. "Every inch of you is perfect."

I lick my lips, nervous in a way I haven't been since he came into my room. "I didn't have many friends growing up," I admit, my voice shaking. "I was the weird, fat girl who was always saving animals and doing strange things they didn't understand. People teased me a lot."

"Those people were assholes who didn't deserve you," he says simply. "There is nothing wrong with who you are now, and there was nothing wrong with who you were then. You're Valkyrie, one of the brightest Lights left in creation. They can never compete, princess."

The way he says it—the way he accepts me without reservations—heals some part of me I didn't realize still needed healing. I melt beneath him, my hands settling at my sides.

Pride shines in his eyes as he dips his head again, running his lips down my stomach. He slides my shorts and panties down at the same time, leaving me bare and quivering beneath him. But he takes his time, nuzzling and kissing my belly—worshipping it with his lips and teeth and tongue as if he's trying to ensure I never doubt his devotion or how attractive he finds every part of me.

And I don't doubt it. With his desire singing through me—his adoration whispering down the bond—there is no room for doubt. He steals every ounce of it, replacing it with absolute certainty that this man truly was designed just for me, my equal in every single way.

He slips lower, gripping my thighs to spread them wide.

I groan, shifting restlessly as his gaze settles between my legs.

"Oh, Valkyrie." His gaze flicks to my face momentarily. "Did you make this mess for me?"

"I…I…" Not trusting my voice, I snap my mouth closed and nod.

He doesn't look like a warrior now. He looks like a little boy on Christmas, staring at the gift of his dreams. "I'll be a good mate and clean it all up," he growls, shifting until he's kneeling between my legs.

I twist my fingers up in the bedsheets, whimpering quietly.

My whimpers turn to gasp that bleed to moans as he runs his lips up the inside of my thigh, questing closer to my sex. A predatory growl vibrates through him, shaking him, shaking me. Shaking the bed.

His hands clench and unclench on my thighs as if he's trying to find restraint…but as soon as he nuzzles his nose against my center and inhales, he loses the battle.

I sob his name, practically wailing it into the room as he lunges, burying himself face first between my legs. His tongue licks a hot stripe through my folds before settling against my clit. An intense blast of pleasure rips through me, threatening to unmake me at my very core.

"Yes," he groans. "Rock against my face just like that, princess."

I didn't even realize I was, but…I keep doing it, unable to stop myself. Pleasure like this isn't supposed to exist. Sex is supposed to be boring and ordinary. That's what my grandma always said, it was nothing to write home about. But this? This deserves entire volumes. It deserves arias and operas and…

"Stephan!" I sob, a river of pleasure raging through me as his fingers join the symphony he plays between my legs. His tongue lashes me as he slips first one and then another inside me, stretching me around them. He thrusts and twists and plays my body like I'm some instrument only he knows how to make sing.

"I like the way you plead for me, Valkyrie," he practically purrs. "You sound so sweet when you're broken in pleasure."

I am broken. Completely annihilated by the storm raging through me. It's my pleasure and his desire tangling together in a giant cloud of…magic. Of pure, unfiltered stardust.

He curls his fingers up, stroking against some spot inside that sends me spiraling even higher. I wail his name, shattering into infinite pieces. Light rips through me in a gale, blazing like an inferno. It lights Stephan up too, a fiery nimbus of gold searing into and through him.

In that moment, I feel everything he does, and I know he feels exactly what I do. Our emotions are a harmonic, bouncing back at one another, feeding off one another, driving each higher and then higher still. Until I'm not entirely sure who feels what, where I end, or where he begins. In this moment, I don't think I do end or he begins. We simply are .

Stephan roars, rising up over me.

I claw down his arms in a silent plea for more. For it never to end.

He yanks my legs up over his hip, his cock sliding through my folds. Even that feels like heaven, has me on the verge of splintering apart again.

"Stephan, Stephan," I chant, mindless with need. I reach for more Light, pouring it into him, trying to tangle us even more tightly together.

His lips come down on mine as he lines up at my entrance. "Mine," he growls, that single word a savage claim and an adoring promise. "Mine. My Valkyrie."

He thrusts forward, splitting me open at the seams and fitting himself into my soul.

I shatter with a scream, waves of intense pleasure ripping me apart. There is no pain. There is nothing but him, consuming me all the way down to my soul.

"Mine," he snarls against my lips, stripped down and raw, as desperate as I am. His tongue twines with mine in a searing kiss. "My mate."

He rocks on top of me, pumping his cock in and out of me so fiercely he steals my breath. And I beg for more, pleading in words and touches and with searing Light for everything he has.

He gives it without reservation, again and again. I lose track of time. Lose track of everything as he sends me hurtling from one orgasm into the next until I'm sobbing beneath him, so sensitive every thrust feels like it might topple me right over the edge into oblivion.

I don't go over alone. He falls with me. Once. Twice. Until I'm a mess of his cum and mine, of sweat and love bites, and still, he keeps going.

"Gods, princess," he groans, still pounding into me, his hand tangled in my hair. Sweat drips down his skin as he attacks my throat, nipping and biting. "You've got to release your Light before we fuck each other to death."

He's right. I know he is. So long as I keep holding onto it, we'll keep going until neither of us can move. But I don't want to release it. I want more of this—more of him nestled in my head, everything he feels spread bare for me.

"Release it, Kara," he growls, delivering a sharp bite to the shell of my ear. "I'll still be right here. I'll still belong to you in every way. I'm yours, Valkyrie. ég fer tangae sem tú fere ."

I sob, shattering again. But this time when the Light blasts out of me, searing through him…I don't draw more. I simply let it go.

Stephan lights up like a supernova on top of me, his eyes glowing as he roars my name, driving into me again and again. His muscles lock tight as he follows me over the edge, shattered for me. Shattering with me.

And still I feel him, nestled in my soul as if every inch of it belongs to him now.

"Kara," he breathes, falling on top of me. Panting for breath. "My princess."

Yes, I am his. I think I was born to be his.

Please, Gods, please don't take him from me , I pray, sending the desperate thought out into the realms…hoping that someone, anyone hears me. And they heed me.