Valkyrie Song (Valkyrie Bound #5)

Chapter Nine

Stephan

" I 'm tired of hunting varulv," Malachi complains in a deep rumble, kicking at a fallen log as we troop back toward the village, weary to our bones. "My boots are wet. My feet are cold. And my balls are chafing. We need the Valkyrie."

Dax snorts loudly beside him. "Wear better pants and you won't have that problem, Malachi."

Malachi shoots Dax a withering look, slashing at a branch with his lystst?l . "I would not have this problem if the devil dogs weren't spread from one side of Valhalla to the other," he grumbles. "My Valkyrie says I've lost weight."

"Where? In your head?" Rhistel mutters, causing Garrison to boom laughter from behind me.

"I heard that," Malachi growls, turning a dirty look on Rhistel, who flashes him a cheeky grin.

"He's not wrong," I murmur to Dax and Damrion.

"About his chafing balls?" Dax asks, deadpan.

Damrion snorts, stepping over a fallen log.

"Nei." My lips twitch. "About the Valkyrie. We need them." Because the Valkyrie are back at the village and can't be left unprotected, there are only a finite number of warriors we can afford to pull from their guard. It's slowed progress to a crawl. Even with the wolves and ravens helping us, there's too much of Valhalla to cover. And we've covered less than half of it.

We might as well be chasing our tails. By the time we clear one section, the varulv have moved to another. They stay ahead of us for the most part. We've killed less than thirty in the last week. Thirty out of Gods only know how many. One hundred? Two?

The Valkyrie could kill dozen in seconds. They could sweep them from Valhalla in a matter of hours. But we don't risk it because we need them at the Bifrost, guarding it. The force on the other side is far greater than the one here. If they break through, we need the Valkyrie to hold the line.

But Malachi is right. We need them here, too.

"Ja," Damrion says wearily. "We need them."

"Ja," Dax agrees softly.

But none of us suggest asking them to come. We can't. They already have too much on their plates, and it's wearing them down. Ever since the Bifrost responded to Kara, they've been trying like hell to figure out the message it delivered.

Her eyes grow a little bleaker every day, as if she's losing hope that it means anything other than what she fears. Her thoughts grow a little more desperate. I don't think she's the only one. Judging by the way the Fae watch her sisters, worry carving grooves around their eyes, they're as mired in dark thoughts as my Valkyrie.

Abigail barely sleeps. When she does, she wakes screaming. Dark shadows rim her eyes. Damrion and Adriel watch her like hawks, as if afraid she might shatter at any moment. Being away from her is hell for Damrion. He doesn't say it, but he doesn't have to say it. The truth is written in his eyes for all to see.

The Forsaken haven't made a move against us in weeks, and they're winning. We reclaimed Valhalla, and it might as well be a tomb for all the good it's done us.

Kara is terrified the only way forward is with our bond severed. She hasn't said it, but she doesn't need to say it. I hear it in her thoughts. I see it in her eyes. I don't believe it for a minute. The Norns wouldn't have put us together only to demand this of her—of us. Fate is a bitch of a mistress, but it isn't that cruel.

Whatever the Bifrost intended to show her, it wasn't that. But there's no convincing her of that. She refuses to discuss it. As soon as I attempt to broach the subject, she finds a way to distract me with her hands on my body or her Light spilling through me. My Valkyrie doesn't play fair.

But we do need to discuss it, because pieces are beginning to align in my mind. There are entire sections missing, things beyond my understanding. But…I understand enough. I've been a soldier my entire life. Duty and sacrifice are what I know. They're all I've ever known. And in this fight, in this war, my duty is to my Valkyrie.

If my sacrifice is what saves her, there is no question. It must be done.

"Can I ask you a ques–" I inhale a sharp gasp as a dagger of fear lances through me, cutting deep. It's so powerful, it's as if Kara is standing right beside me, screaming in terror.

For a brief moment, I see what she does. Dozens of varulv, slipping out of the shadows of the forest toward the Bifrost. Toward the Valkyrie and Fae. And hundreds more pouring through the Portal behind them, boxing them in.

Gods. No.

" Faen !" Dax growls beside me, jerking as if struck with a blade. And I know that he knows too. He's seen enough though Rissa's eyes to know our mates are under attack—and we're still two miles away.

Damrion growls low in his throat, a menacing sound of rage and retribution.

Overhead, the ravens scream a warning, but it comes too late.

"Marion!" Malachi bellows, launching himself over a log. He hits the ground running on the other side.

"The village is under attack!" Damrion roars, racing after him. " Beskytt Valkyrie! Beskytt Valkyrie!"

Gods, protect her. Protect my Valkyrie.

A savage growl rips through me, terror firing through every nerve ending. I launch myself after Damrion, my heart pounding with fear for Kara.

Ing runs with me, the rest of the wolves spread out behind him.

"Kara needs us," I growl to him. "The varulv are attacking."

He throws his head back, a howl ripping from his muzzle as he calls the few remaining vargúlfr to war. They howl in response, racing at his heels to meet the varulv and protect our Valkyrie.

Gods, I hope it's just the varulv. If it's the Forsaken too…

No. I can't think it. I won't.

The Fae, the wolves, and I race the last miles through the forest, leaping over fallen logs and dodging around trees. My side twinges, my lungs burning with exertion, but I don't stop or slow. I can't. Kara needs me.

We're still half a mile out when the sounds of battle reach us, a dull roar of noise and inhuman screams that set my teeth on edge. Good Gods. The varulv never die quietly. They fall screaming their rage into the wind.

Not even a full minute later, we find the first of them lurking beneath the trees as if lying in wait for us.

"Varulv," Malachi snarls, launching himself at a massive gray wolf.

It turns in his direction, snarling.

He plows into it like a meteor striking dirt, flinging the animal off its feet.

Four more slip out of the shadows.

Ing snarls a warning, his fur standing on end.

"Don't engage!" I shout to him, praying he relays the message to the rest of the wolves. They've been good about not attacking directly while we've been hunting, allowing us to do the killing to spare their own lives. But they've never been tested like this, in the fog of war. "Their blood will turn you."

Ing snarls as if telling me that he hears me. I pray he does, that they all do. We cannot afford to lose them, when doing so means thirteen more varulv nipping at our heels.

I leap over one of the vargúlfr , my ímun-laukr spinning in my hands as I advance on one of the varulv. One of the Fae steps up beside me, his lystst?l blazing in his hands.

"Want to play, you mangy mutt?" I growl. "Come play."

The varulv slams into me like a brick wall, the impact jarring. I grit my teeth, slamming the hilt of my ímun-laukr down against the side of his head as he tries to pin me beneath him.

"Get off of him," the Fae, Krandriel, snarls, dragging him off me by the scruff of his neck.

The varulv immediately turns on him, giving me time to bound back to my feet. All around us, the Fae are locked in battle, fending off the varulv. Malachi has his pinned to the ground, his lystst?l shoved through the thing's throat. Damrion and Dax are wrestling another a few feet away. The fourth has Rhistel backed up against a tree, snarling and snapping at him. Garrison and two Fae are fending off the last.

Ing and the wolves hang back, snarling in impotent fury that they're left out of the fight yet again. They hunt beside us, help us track them down, but the killing is too risky. That may not be the case much longer. If the Forsaken are coming through the Portal, we may need them their claws and fangs as much as we need their ability to scent out the varulv.

Ravens scream overhead, but the trees are too thick for them to be much use here. I don't think that'll be a problem for long. Judging by the sounds raging around us, there are plenty more where these five came from.

Too many.

I whip my ímun-laukr down hard against the back of the varulv who knocked me to the ground, momentarily distracting him. It's just long enough for Krandriel to slice his lystst?l across the thing's throat. The sickly-sweet smell of infection spills out, immediately burned away by Light.

The varulv stumbles as the hole in his throat bursts into flame, spreading rapidly. He doesn't go down, though. He continues lumbering forward, snapping at the air. Unlike the varulv we fought in Eitr, these don't die easily. We've fought like hell for every death, every inch of Valhalla we've reclaimed.

" Faen !" Krandriel shouts, slashing at him again.

It takes three more strikes before the soulless beast finally crashes to the ground, most of his body on fire. Furious, dying screams sound around us as the Fae dispatch the other four in a similar fashion, fighting like hell to bring them down.

By the time the last falls, we're all breathing hard. But we don't stop. We simply jolt into movement again, rushing forward.

"Stick to the edge of the forest," Damrion commands. "Stay out of sight until we're at the Portal. We'll attack from behind."

No one says a word as we advance, the screams of dying varulv sending tension humming through our group. But we don't come across another group of varulv until we see the flickering glow of the Bifrost and the blazing Light that is the Valkyrie.

"Gods," Dax breathes then. "They're magnificent."

He isn't wrong. The Valkyrie burn like a supernova, their Light rippling out to bring down one varulv after another. But the warriors are falling. They're failing.

And more varulv still advance.

"Where the fuck did they all come from?" Rhistel growls.

"The Portal," Damrion breathes, nodding his head in that direction as waves of the hellhounds pour out of it. "The Forsaken sent them to take the Portal."

"Not today," Malachi says grimly. "We aren't giving it up."

No, we're not. Not today or any other day.

" Beskytt Valkyrie," Damrion murmurs to the Fae. " Beskytt portalen . Even if it costs every last Fae life."

" Beskytt Valkyrie," the Fae repeat.

We advance as one, slashing and hacking, killing everything we can. The wolves run at our heels, protecting our backs, keeping the varulv from circling around behind us. Krandriel falls to a varulv beside me. He tries to fight his way back to his feet, but another varulv launches at him.

He plunges his lystst?l into its throat, nearly severing the thing's head from its body before the poison overwhelms him. He crumbles with a groan.

"Krandriel!" I shout.

"Leave me," he groans. "Get to your Valkyrie. Protect her."

Fuck. This isn't how the day was supposed to go.

I kneel beside him, preparing to say a prayer, but before I can even reach for him, his body lights up. He chokes out a gasp, going rigid.

Tori.

I glance ahead to see the Valkyrie advancing toward us in an unbroken line, ropes of Light spilling from Tori's hands. Every fallen warrior it touches goes rigid as she burns the poison from their veins with brutal efficiency. To her right, Marion directs flows of Light toward the varulv. Like the warriors, they light up. But the Light doesn't Heal the varulv. It burns them from existence.

They die with pained screams that bounce back from the trees in eerie distortions. Dozens surge toward the fiery nimbus around the Valkyrie, trying like hell to bring them down, but as soon as they touch their Light, they burn too. As if they never stood at all.

And yet more pour through the Portal, a never-ending flood of them, sent to bring us down and take the Bifrost. Gods. How many are there? An entire army of Darkness, sent to deliver Valhalla and the Bifrost into the hands of the Forsaken.

The Light around Krandriel fades. He falls back, gasping and shivering.

"Good Gods," he gasps, choking on a groan as he rolls to his side. "I've never felt anything like that."

"Ja, but you're alive."

And that's precisely the problem, isn't it?

I glance around the battlefield to see the same scene unfolding for warrior after warrior. Every single one that fell shivers and groans, held to life by Tori's ability to Heal what was a death sentence before she was spun out by the Norns. The Valkyrie adamantly refuses to let a single one of the warriors die. They're all that's left of the Fae, all that remains of a realm that fell long ago, destroyed in a war humanity never even knew to name. The Valkyrie will fight like hell to keep every last Fae life intact, because as much as the Fae are stewards of Valhalla…the Valkyrie are stewards of every soul here.

These are their people, and Tori refuses to lose a single one to the Dark.

But fate demands a sacrifice. And destiny requires the impossible. Even if the price is life.

A pang goes through me. Of regret. Of guilt. Of pure determination.

"Forgive me, Valkyrie," I whisper, hauling myself to my feet. I spin around, searching for the nearest varulv.

The gray and white beast is massive, with blood still dripping down his muzzle. In another life, we might have been friends, united by the incredible Valkyrie who walks between worlds—the dainty little princess who rules my world. But that was before he fell to the Dark.

I drop my ímun-laukr to the ground, charging toward him.

"Stephan!" Kara screams, though if I hear her voice echoing around me or down the bond she forged between our souls, I don't know.

Forgive me, princess.

I plow into the varulv.

His fangs rip into my shoulder, driving me to my knees. The pain is intense and immediate, like razor blades searing through my veins. It hurts. Gods, it hurts like hell.

"Stephan!" Kara screams from behind me, pure terror in her voice.

A concussive blast of Light knocks me off my feet. My face lands in the mud and muck. My ears ring. I lay there, momentarily stunned, as the varulv poison burns its way through me.

"Stephan!" Kara cries, dropping to her knees beside me.

"Hang on, Stephan," Tori says, sinking to hers on my other side.

"Nei!" I choke out, fighting for every ounce of strength. It takes every ounce of strength I have to roll over. But Gods, it's worth it to see Kara's beautiful face again. Even with terror in her eyes and tears rolling down her cheeks, she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. "You can't Heal me."

"We can," Kara sobs. "Tori can."

"Nei. I have to die so you can part the Veil. It's the only way. You need a soul to ferry across."

Tori's face fall, her hands falling to her sides.

Kara sobs, shaking her head. "No, Stephan, no. I can't lose you. You promised."

"Ja," I whisper, pain burning through me in a tidal wave. "I did promise. My soul is bound to yours. It will always be bound to yours. But I have to die." I cough, my lungs on fire. "It's the only way to open the Portal."

No matter what else they've tried, it hasn't worked. And it was never going to work. That's what the Bifrost tried to show her—we both know it is.

For the first time in memory, every soul inside Valhalla is alive. But only the dead can cross beyond the Veil. That's why the Valkyrie always bound themselves to dead warriors. Because there was no other choice. A bond doesn't form between unequal halves. It forms between a Valkyrie and the one warrior able to grant her passage beyond the Veil.

That's the secret they always guarded so closely. And that's why the Valkyrie were never able to bond a Fae until these five. The Fae are immortal. They don't die.

The Valkyrie were never meant to be Gods. And Odin ensured it. He made them fallible, ensured too much power never rested with them alone. To do what they were called to do, they needed a warrior, someone beyond corruption to guard their soul and help them find their way through the Veil.

Rissa, Marion, Abigail, and Tori bonded Fae because they need Fae strength to guard them. Tori guards the Bifrost now. Marion is the greatest weapon we have. Abigail Sees more than anyone ever has. And Rissa leads them, she is their guardian, their general. But Kara walks between worlds, connected to life in a way none of the others are. Her destiny was always this—always me.

And mine…well, mine will be her in this life and whatever comes next. For eternity if we're fortunate enough to find it. But she has to let me go or it ends here and now.

"You have to let me go, Kara," I whisper. "Trust me, princess. Please."

She sobs, clinging to my hand. Her tears wet my cheeks as she falls forward across my chest, pressing her lips to mine. Her body shakes with the force of her sobs, with the force of her grief. "I love you, Stephan. More than I've ever loved anyone."

Gods, I've never loved anyone but her. And I never will.

I close my eyes, breathing her in…and I let go.