Chapter 47 Erik
Erik
The new leather and furs scratch against my damp skin as we wait by the gate, my head still pounding from last night's foolishness.
Gullfax paws at the snow, his impatient snorts creating clouds in the frigid air.
The stallion shoots me a sidelong glance—after sharing his stable during my pathetic display, we've reached some understanding.
Her scent hits me first—storm winds and steel—making my chest constrict. I turn, and the world stops spinning.
Where Bryn's magnificent wing once stretched proud and strong, there's nothing. Just empty space and the rigid set of her shoulders. Her face is carved from ice, daring anyone to comment, but I see the shadows in her eyes.
Rage ignites in my veins, white-hot and blinding. My vision tunnels, the world narrowing to the space where her wing should be. Someone dared to lay hands on her, to mutilate her. Gunnar's smug face flashes through my mind—did he do this as retribution for my actions?
"Who did this to you?" The words tear from my throat, razor-edged and deadly. I'm across the courtyard before I realize I've moved, my hands clenched into fists. "I'll rip their heart out with my bare hands—"
Dani's hand on my arm stops me. The look in her eyes—a mix of warning and sorrow—douses my fury like a bucket of ice water.
Bryn steps forward, her chin high despite the pain etched into every line of her body. "I did it, Erik." Her voice is steady, but I hear the fractures beneath. "I cut it off myself."
The words hit like a wrecking ball driving the air from my lungs. "Why?" It comes out as a broken whisper, my mind reeling. "Why would you...?"
She meets my gaze, unflinching. "It was a reminder of my failure, Erik.
A constant shadow hanging over me." Her jaw tightens, but I catch the slight tremor in her voice.
"That wing was a constant reminder of what I couldn't be, what I was denied.
Now..." She straightens her shoulders despite the cost evident in her eyes.
"Now I decide who I am. Not fate. Not destiny. Not even you."
Her shoulder slams into mine as she pushes past, the impact barely registering through the numbness spreading in my chest. My eyes bore into the snow at my feet, unseeing.
The image of her severing her wing plays on repeat in my mind, each iteration more horrific than the last. What depths of self-loathing must she harbor to mutilate herself so?
Dani's touch barely penetrates the haze, her fingers feather-light on my arms. "Don't give up, Erik." Her voice sounds distant, muffled by the roaring in my ears. "She just... needs time. To adjust to all this."
I manage a nod, the motion mechanical. My heart constricts, each beat a painful squeeze. Bryn, with her warrior's spirit and unbreakable will, loyalty, and fierce protectiveness... How can she not see her own worth? That she would go to such lengths to excise a part of herself...
The mate bond throbs like an open wound, each pulse a reminder of her rejection. What more can I give when the first denial nearly broke me? The memory of collapsing in that stable, my soul screaming in agony, is still raw.
Dani's eyes find mine, a silent plea in their golden depths. She knows what's at stake—not just for me, but for Bryn. For the bond that could save or destroy us both.
Rhyland's gaze bores into me, steel blue and unyielding. They need me to be strong, put aside my fears, and fight for what the Fates have ordained.
Resolve hardens in my gut, chasing away the numbness. I won't let her shatter under the weight of her demons—not like I did. I'll be the shield at her back, the sword in her hand until she remembers her own strength.
"Right then!" Baldr's voice rings with artificial cheer. "Shall we proceed?"
"Where's Heimdall?" Dani's brow furrows.
Baldr's smile doesn't reach his eyes, a serpentine curve that sets my teeth on edge.
Every instinct screams that something's off with this pompous deity.
"He awaits our arrival at the Cloud Palaces.
" He sweeps his arm toward the horizon with theatrical flair.
"If you would do us the honor, Lightborn. "
Gullfax snorts, stamping his hoof as Dani mutters under her breath, clearly engaged in another battle of wills with the stubborn stallion.
She turns to Baldr, frustration evident in her stance.
"I need more than just 'Cloud Palaces.' My portals require either firsthand knowledge of the location or a detailed description.
Otherwise, we could end up scattered across the seven realms."
"Ah, of course." Baldr says with false humility. "Simply focus on ásgard itself. We can navigate to the Cloud Palaces once we arrive."
Dani's eyes drift shut, brow furrowed in concentration.
The air around her seems to vibrate, the scent of ozone and stardust rising.
The space before us ripples, then tears open—a window into another world.
Through the shimmering gateway, ásgard sprawls in breathtaking majesty: emerald fields rolling toward the horizon, crystalline waterfalls cascading from impossible heights, golden spires piercing the clouds like arrows of light.
After witnessing it countless times, watching Dani bend reality still steals my breath. She makes the impossible look effortless, as natural as breathing.
"After you," she gestures, a hint of satisfaction in her voice.
The Cloud Palaces hover upon islands of solidified light, suspended amidst an eternal twilight firmament.
Crystalline spires transpierce cotton-candy clouds, with pink, lavender, and gold hues intertwining like an ethereal artist's palette.
Cascades of liquid starlight descend from one floating island to the next, their mist creating an endless array of rainbows in the otherworldly luminescence.
The palaces seem carved from living glass and solidified clouds, their walls shifting between opacity and transparency with each passing breeze.
Gardens spiral up impossible towers, exotic flowers blooming in mid-air, their petals catching the light like scattered gems. Bridges of pure light arc between the floating sanctuaries, their surfaces rippling like water yet solid as steel beneath our feet.
"Wow." Dani's whisper carries on the ethereal breeze as we traverse the floating gardens, each step taking us closer to the towering glass palace.
Bryn appears at her side, her stride purposeful.
"The Cloud Palaces rose from Ragnarok's ashes," she explains, her eyes distant with memory.
"When the realm fell, the Aesir gathered what remained of their divine power.
They wove it with fragments of broken rainbows and solidified starlight, crafting these sanctuaries among the clouds.
Each palace holds a piece of the old realm's soul, preserved in eternal twilight. "
Her voice softens. "The gardens sprouted from Freya's tears, they say—flowers that bloom on starlight and need no soil to grow. Each cascade of water flows upward as easily as down, defying laws that bind the lower realm."
"That's incredible," Dani breathes as we ascend the massive stone staircase, each step worn smooth by millennia of divine footfalls. The palace doors loom before us, towering slabs of living crystal that pulse with inner light.
"Who holds dominion here?" Rhyland's question cuts through the ethereal silence, his boots echoing against the luminescent stone.
Bryn's eyes scan the towering palaces above us.
"The Cloud Palaces answer to no single ruler.
Each palace houses different Aesir families, their powers maintaining the very fabric of this realm.
The highest palace belongs to Odin's bloodline, but they serve more as guardians than monarchs.
They all share equal standing with their fellow Aesir.
It's a delicate balance of power, each family contributing unique gifts to keep these islands afloat and the eternal twilight burning. "
She gestures to the shimmering towers around us. "Each palace serves a different purpose—healing, learning, crafting, and more. They work in harmony to preserve what remains of the old ways and foster growth and prosperity for all who dwell here."
We cross the threshold, and my breath catches in my throat. The interior defies even my centuries of existence. Light dances through the translucent walls, casting ever-shifting patterns across floors of polished moonstone.
Columns of solidified clouds spiral upward, their surfaces rippling with internal auroras of blue, silver, and gold.
The grand hall stretches before us, its ceiling merging with the eternal twilight visible through the transparent dome.
Floating orbs of pure light drift through the air while staircases of spun crystal curve impossibly upward.
Tapestries woven from threads of pure light ripple along the walls, their images shifting and moving as if alive.
"Even the libraries of Alexandria pale compared to this architectural marvel," I observe. "This is... beyond words."
"Indeed, it is a marvel to behold," Baldr agrees, golden strands falling across his brow as he inclines his head.
He turns to a young man clad in a finely tailored Nordic suit—a deep blue tunic trimmed with intricate silver knotwork, paired with fitted black trousers and polished boots.
"Gorm, would you be so kind as to guide our esteemed guests to their chambers?
See that they are provided with all they require. "
Gorm smiles, dark eyes sparkling sincerely. "Of course, it would be my pleasure. If you would follow me, please."
The crystal staircase stretches before us, and Bryn ascends several steps ahead.
From my position below, every step offers a maddening view of her leather-clad curves.
The supple material clings to her ass, the muscles flexing with each upward motion.
My fangs ache as I recall how that perfect ass felt in my grip, the weight of her breasts in my hands, how they fit against my palms—the intoxicating scent of her arousal as I explored her with my mouth.
I can almost taste her on my tongue, hear the breathy moans that spilled from her lips, my cock hardens instantly.
As if sensing the heat of my hungry stare, Bryn pivots, her eyes burning into mine. "Enjoying the view, warrior?" Her tone walks the razor's edge between seductive and threatening, a challenge sparking in her gaze.
I clear my throat, forcing my eyes to the shimmering walls. "Yes. This is indeed stunning," I deflect, though the knowing smirk tugging at her lips tells me she's well aware it's not the architecture commanding my attention.
The hallway stretches before us, its walls shimmering. Gorm's smirk suggests he knows exactly what game he's playing. "Two chambers for the four of you," he says, gesturing to the ornate doors. "I trust you can... arrange yourselves accordingly."
Before Rhyland can stake his claim, Bryn's already commandeering one room, dragging Dani with her like a protective mother hen. My brother's mate shoots him an apologetic look, those gold eyes pleading for understanding.
Rhyland's growl is pure frustration. His hand clamps around my bicep as he practically throws me toward the other chamber. "Move your ass," he orders, his tone promising violence. "Apparently, we're having a fucking slumber party."
I stumble into the chamber, catching myself against a wall.
Behind me, Dani darts back through the doorway, launching herself into Rhyland's arms. Their lips meet in a heated kiss that has me averting my gaze.
Let them have their moment—I've got a bed calling my name and Grave Warden's weight heavy on my back.
The chamber's warmth seeps into my bones as I shed my furs, the weapon finding its home against the wall. The sounds of their whispered endearments and soft moans echo through the space.
"I'm just across the hall, handsome," Dani purrs, her fingers playing with Rhyland's beard. "I'll see you later tonight."
A sharp crack splits the air, followed by Dani's breathy gasp. Rhyland's growl of satisfaction tells me exactly what caused that sound.
"Can't wait." his voice rough with need. "Now go before I decide to keep you here."
As Dani saunters out, Rhyland turns to me. "Brother, could you be any more obvious? You were practically drooling over her ass." He stalks closer, his eyes glinting with challenge. "If you don't stake your claim tonight, I will throw you off this floating rock myself."
I sink into the plush mattress, letting out a long-suffering sigh. "Your eloquence knows no bounds, brother. Tell me, did you learn such refined courtship techniques before or after becoming a Viking?"