Chapter 27 - Rhyland
Rhyland
I'm trying to focus on Bryn as she squares up against some Valkyrie built like a fucking tank, but Erik's got me distracted.
Something's off with my brother, making my predator instincts go haywire.
The moment we passed those gates, everything went sideways—my power crackling beneath my skin like a caged storm, my vampire strength. .. gone.
It was like getting kicked in the nuts by a giant, but then the feeling passed.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I ask, sidling up to Erik.
He brushes me off like I'm some annoying gnat. "I've already informed you—nothing requires your concern." His refined tone carries that stick-up-his-ass quality I know too well.
Bryn executes a perfect leg sweep that sends her opponent face-first into the snow. "Bullshit," I growl. "I'm handling this power drain just fine. What's got you all antsy?"
Erik releases one of his patented long-suffering sighs. "I'm perfectly fine, brother. The transition was merely... unexpected."
Lying bastard. I grab his arm and drag his ass away from where Dani's watching her sister demolish the poor fucker in the ring. "Erik." I lock eyes with him, but those silver orbs narrow back at me in a challenge.
Then I hear it.
No. No fucking way. Erik won't meet my gaze now as the truth hits me like a sledgehammer to the face. I scan our surroundings, trying to piece together this mystery, but my attention snaps back to the ring as Bryn unleashes an unholy war cry.
She moves like a force of nature, spinning through the air like some deadly ballerina before landing a kick that would shatter mortal bones.
Her opponent barely blocks the strike before Bryn follows up with a combination that's pure poetry in violence—elbow strike to the jaw, knee to the ribs, then a throw that sends the other Valkyrie flying across the ring like a ragdoll.
The other Valkyrie gets up while Bryn's back is turned and bulldozes into her like a goddamn freight train, taking them both down in an explosion of snow and grunts.
Erik's growl is so low I almost miss it, but that sound tells me everything I need to know.
Holy shit.
"Don't," Erik warns, his refined tone carrying a lethal edge that would make lesser men piss themselves.
I drag my hand down my face, scratching my beard like it holds the universe's secrets. "Why the hell not? She can handle—"
"No." Erik's voice cuts through my words like Grave Warden through flesh, those silver eyes promising violence if I finish that sentence. The stick up his ass has officially become a tactical pole.
Well, this shit just got more complicated. Erik needs to come clean with Dani—she deserves the truth, not this silent shit he's pulling. But fuck me if I'm going to be the one to spill his secrets.
I growl low in my throat and stalk back to Dani's side, leaving Erik to stew in his emotional crap. The fight rages on for another ten minutes before Bryn emerges victorious, like some ancient warrior goddess out of the sagas.
She stands in the center of that ring, snow swirling around her like a victory dance while the crowd loses their collective minds.
I glance down at my mate and Christ—that smile could power a small country when she looks up at me, those golden irises that shift like molten metal blaze like the sun.
It's fucking beautiful seeing her like this—all hopeful and shit about having a sister to bond with.
Someone who gets the whole "surprise, you're half-divine" mindfuck on a personal level.
I can sense her nerves, too, buzzing like a swarm of pissed-off bees. She's worried Bryn might not accept her and see her as the usurper who stole her destiny. I mean, shit—the original plan was for Bryn to be my mate, not Dani. Talk about awkward family reunions.
But here's the thing—I don't feel jealousy from my girl. Not a single, possessive spark. She wants to build something tangible with the sister she never knew she had. Destiny bullshit, be damned.
That's my angel—heart big enough to love the whole damn world, even when it's been nothing but a dick to her. She never ceases to amaze me.
Bryn exits the ring, gesturing for us to follow with a sharp nod. Dani's hand slips into mine as we trail after her sister into a longhouse that looks torn from the pages of my oldest memories.
The great hearth dominates the center, flames leaping high enough to cast dancing shadows on the smoke-darkened rafters.
Warriors cluster around its warmth, their weapons and armor gleaming in the firelight.
Carved dragon heads crown the support beams, their wooden eyes watching our every move.
Shields line the walls, each telling its story of glory and death, while spears and axes hang ready for the next raid.
The air is thick with the scent of burning wood, roasting meat, and the unmistakable aroma of sweat-soaked warriors.
I shrug out of my heavy fur cloak, a cascade of snow falling to the floor as I drape it over the nearest bench. The bear pelt is a lifesaver in the freezing temperatures outside, but it's stifling inside this longhouse.
Dani settles beside me on one of the benches, the worn wood polished smooth by generations of warriors. Erik, looking seconds away from collapsing, practically falls onto the table behind us, clearly trying to maintain some distance from the impending confrontation with Dani.
Bryn approaches our table, her movements precise and controlled. The sword finds its home on the scarred tabletop with a resounding clang, its steel catching the firelight. I can't help but admire the expertly crafted weapon, its hilt worn smooth from years of use.
Her attendants descend upon her, removing her armor with practiced efficiency. In moments, Bryn is left in a simple tunic and breeches, her tone frame still radiating the coiled energy of a warrior at rest.
A serving girl appears with a drinking horn, its rim banded in silver and filled to the brim with mead.
Bryn raises the horn in a silent toast before taking a deep draught, a trickle of the honey-colored liquid escaping the corner of her mouth.
She slams the horn back onto the table with a satisfied sigh and finally settles onto the bench across from us, her mismatched eyes locking onto Dani.
"So, how's it going, sis?" Bryn asks, casual as can be, like we're just catching up over a damn pint.
Horns of mead are shoved into our hands, the liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rims. Dani shoots her sister a smirk, but I can tell she's nervous. "I-I can't believe you exist," she blurts, her cheeks flushing pink. "I-I mean, this is just... wow."
Bryn smiles. "Tell me about it." She takes a swig of her mead like it's water, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
"But just know, I hold no ill will towards you, sister.
My destiny is my own, and I embrace it full of heart.
" Her eyes find mine, a challenge sparking in their depths.
"And truth be told, the thought of being shackled to this brooding mountain never quite sat well with me. "
Dani's laugh rings out, bright and bold. "Oh, yeah. He's definitely an acquired taste." She leans into me, her smile turning wicked. "But once you get past the scowling exterior, he's got a heart of gold. And an ass that won't quit, but that's beside the point."
I choke, coughing on my mead, the burn of the alcohol nothing compared to the heat of my girl's sass.
Bryn throws her head back, her laughter echoing off the ancient beams. "By the gods, I like this one!
" Her smile softens slightly, a hint of reserve creeping in as she studies Dani.
"At least one of us got something decent from our glorified asshole of a father—besides his spectacular ability to avoid any real parental responsibility. "
"Oh my god, yes!" Dani practically bounces in her seat, nearly spilling her drink excitedly. "Finally! Someone else who sees through his 'holier than thou' bullshit! I swear, his head's so far up in the clouds he probably gets high on stardust."
She leans forward, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Tell me, has he always been this emotionally constipated, or did someone shove his divine scepter up his ass recently?"
I choke on my drink again, trying not to spray thousand-year-old mead across the table. My fierce little angel, taking shots at the God of Light himself. Fuck, I love this woman.
I feel the moment something shifts between them—like watching ice crack and melt in spring. The shared pain of Elysium's rejection creates a bridge more potent than blood or prophecy.
Bryn's eyes widen before another laugh bursts from her, genuine and deep. The last of her reserve seems to melt away. "Sister, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship—and our dear father's worst nightmare."