Chapter 21 #2
Fuck. Should I thank Freya for bringing her to me?
No, if we were meant to be, we would have found each other, no matter what.
I was the one who sought her out in Skaldir, the one who felt the string pull taut between us the moment I saw her, fiercely focused and competing in a footrace. She smiled up at me.
“Feeling better?” I asked, though exhaustion clearly tugged at her eyes.
“I guess…I guess my mind is clearer after a vision.”
Meaning the gods were quieter. When they weren’t toying with her, I caught glimpses of Lux as she truly was, echoes of joy and playfulness, the person she could be without this world and the gods weighing her down.
“Carry me?” she whispered.
Her throat rippled with a swallow, and my eyes shot to the vein pulsing along the curve of her neck.
Drinking from her was forbidden. The huntress’s blood burns those she's cursed to kill, but in that moment, all I wanted was to taste her.
Not her blood, though; I just wanted to taste her desire again.
“You’re asking me to carry you now?” I said, resisting a smirk. “I had to force you into my arms back at Mara’s Keep. Maybe I like what the wasteland does to you.” Of course I didn’t enjoy watching her suffer, but this vulnerable side of her allowed me to see all of her.
Her mouth curved. “Do you want me to beg?”
“I do love hearing you plead for me,” I said, relishing this glimpse of her playfulness again.
She released a soft moan as I slipped my arms beneath her legs and neck and rose with her in my hold. “Follow the blood,” she said.
“Yes, my queen.”
I carried her in silence for a long stretch, her body sinking into my chest. The soft curve of her neck angled out, exposed beneath the leather hide and cloak draped over her shoulders.
Her head propped against the dip between my shoulder and breastbone, the same spot that’d felt on fire when the disturbed memory flooded me.
Despite the steep climb, I cherished the moments when she rested, letting me support her entire weight.
After a time of nothing but fog and Lux’s shallow breaths, the stained cracks deepened in color.
They spread wider, turning the dirt from familiar brown with hints of red to a bright crimson, like fresh blood spilled in a dry pool across the land.
But nothing about the wasteland was fresh.
Ancient was a closer description, except that it felt as familiar as a memory.
Lux stirred in my arms, eyes flickering. “You should—you should see structures soon.”
“Ruins,” I breathed. “I know.”
“I can walk now.”
“Lux.”
Her muscles stiffened. “I can walk. Thank you, Drak.” The softness in her eyes was new.
Even when I’d bandaged her, she hadn’t looked at me like that.
Lux had always been wary of me from the start.
When we exchanged our fake vows, she looked at me with curiosity and a hint of sadness.
In the throes of ecstasy, her eyes were wild with pleasure.
But never had she been so soft like this.
Glimpses of her came through in these moments, until the gods fed her lines about my monstrous state. About how stupid and sick and disturbed she was to even play at marriage with one of the undead.
The gods must have been quiet now, because she held me in her gaze as carefully as I’d lifted her into my arms. I helped her to her feet and followed as we crept deeper into the ruins, hiking through the clouds until the echo of voices halted our progress.
We froze, exchanging tentative, curious looks. A human cry echoed from deep within the fog. Lux’s hand shot to the weapon at her thigh, and laughter filtered through the mist—until the cry turned into a whimper.
Lux inched forward, her boots light where the ground evened out. No longer did we climb at an angle. The land leveled near the ruins, dipping slightly like a faint valley that collected a pool of the ancestors' blood.
The closer we came to the dark, roofless structure, the more I felt the need to touch it. The stone wasn’t cold like Mara’s Keep; it pulsed with a sickening warmth, out of place beneath the endless storms and ice we’d endured for months.
A blur darted behind another structure, and the whimpering went quiet. Another voice, this time female, let out a curt laugh. That meant two vampires, one vessel. The human was probably drained and would leave them to decay in the ruins.
“Drak, they’re here,” she whispered. “We found them.”
“And there goes our plan to ruin their source of food. Clearly they have more than blood bags.” I frowned. “They brought humans.”
She seethed, her chest heaving with rising rage. “I hate this. I hate blood-thirst and knowing that the people of Vylheim are fucking tormented. Hel, I can't wait to turn every one of those vampires to ash.”
I grabbed her arm before she could take another step. “Let’s do this carefully before Silver realizes we’re here and runs.”
Her eyes flashed with a hint of impatience before she finally relented and spoke. “Vampires often feed in small groups for privacy, right?” I nodded, and she continued. “When they break away like this, I’ll pick them off one by one. Before they feed, so they’re at their most desperate.”
I smirked. “Torturous little killer you are. Making them die hungry.”
She only arched a brow, disappearing behind the mask. When my gaze shifted to the structure behind her, her face flickered. The mask vanished as a memory seized me.
But she hadn’t spoken the magic word to trigger this…
I didn’t have time to dwell on the details of how this episode came about, because Lux suddenly stood bare-faced before me.
Not covered in clay and leather and mesh, but painted with runes across her forehead and beneath her eyes in the smudges of black coal.
The runes were messy and hurried, completely different from the modern wedding symbols, yet still strangely familiar.
They spoke of vows of love, untouched by the language of today.
A simple gown woven of crystal-blue fabric replaced her dust-covered clothes.
I took her hands in mine, and she tilted her chin up. Her eyes were bright and clear and searched mine when she spoke. “Follow me?”
“I’ll follow you,” I echoed. “Into every life.”
As another cry ripped through the air, it swept away the memory, and the truth hit me.
Every strange memory I’d had was finally confirmed. We weren’t just at the site of the first Skaldir—we were at our home. This was where we’d married, where Rune had married Myrah. Maybe that was why I no longer needed to hear my former name, my true name, to recall the memory.
Now I knew how to control it.