Chapter 27
Drak
Lux’s arm fell limp, her pale wrist exposed to the sky. The sun’s glow tinted the drifting fog orange, casting an eerie light across her skin.
My jaw tensed, and it was everything I could do not to curse at Odin and Freya.
Shouting into the wasteland was a foolish use of the energy I needed to preserve the closer we drew to Yggdrasil.
At the base of the gods’ tree, they could almost reach out and touch us.
At least that was what I remembered from the first time I saw it, when I bowed before the trunk and begged Odin to release my mother’s mind.
That was so long ago, before I knew of Lux, and before I remembered Myrah. Back then, I was just a boy, desperate and alone in a court teeming with monsters.
I tore my mind away from the past and focused on Lux in the present.
Her unconscious body felt light in my arms, but I hated that the gods had stolen her control.
Her eyes had rolled back before her lids fell heavy over them, lashes fluttering to reveal glimpses of white streaked with red.
If this was the gods’ only way of reaching their people, then they weren’t as powerful as they claimed.
And if it wasn’t, then why the Hel would they choose collapse and unconsciousness as the means to give people answers and glimpses of the future?
Instead of carrying her back to the tent, I carried Lux to the ruined temple.
Her body twitched every few seconds. When a whimper escaped her, I curled my lower lip between my teeth, channeling my anger somewhere safe.
I sank my fangs into my lips to keep from doing something reckless, like marching straight to Yggdrasil.
The path was clear, but the journey would be painstaking. For both our survival.
Lux needed rest she couldn’t get while I carried her, and I needed to prepare for what lay ahead.
Inside the temple, the headless gods stood like silent sentinels.
I knelt before the sacrificial altar, not because Lux was a sacrifice, but because I imagined this was where the gods could reach her.
Maybe if they saw her here in this ancient place of worship, they would stop tormenting her for the rest of this vision.
Nothing changed, however. Lux still seized, then fell limp again. I cupped the back of her head and brought her forehead to mine. “I’m here,” I whispered.
Finally, her eyes opened, heavy-lidded and clouded with a haze, as if the fog had permeated her. But they were transformed, no longer painted entirely with a film of blackness. “Drak?” She murmured, her throat rippling with a grim swallow. “Drak…”
“I’m here.”
With effort, she shook her head, tears slipping through the corners of her eyes. “Not for long,” she said.
I furrowed my brow and drew her closer to my chest, letting her cling to my neck. “Lux, just breathe,” I urged, my voice steady against her ragged breaths.
Hiccuping, she forced out the words. “I saw you die.”
“I did,” I said. “But that was many lifetimes ago.”
Her fingers curled around the fabric of my collar, fisting the material with a desperate grip. “No. You will die.”
I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped me. “Lux, you’re the huntress destined to destroy me. Surely, you’ve thought of my death many times.”
“Not like this. It is torture that you’ll suffer over and over.”
I examined her face. What the Hel had she seen? “It won’t matter, I’ll be a god.”
She shook her head again, eyes welling. “You won’t make it there. Death will find you first. The sun, starvation, and a spear of gold will strike you down.” Tears spilled over her cheeks, each drop carrying the weight of the vision and blurring her gaze.
“I can’t die except from a stake fashioned from Yggdrasil. You know this. Whatever fucked-up vision Freya painted on the back of your eyelids is a lie.”
“This isn’t a lie, Drak, and I won’t watch you suffer the way you did in my vision.
” Her eyelashes brushed upward as she looked up at me, still cradled across my lap.
Flecks of gold and brown dotted her black eyes.
The concern lacing her gaze captivated me.
If she wanted to protect me, she truly was a warrior.
She drew a breath and pulled herself up to sit across from me on her legs.
We faced one another in front of the altar.
I’d never bow to the Gods, but I had no problem being on my knees for my queen.
“I don’t think I can bear to watch you suffer. ”
I swallowed. The burden in her voice wasn’t just from the weight of the vision. Even if Lux didn’t remember our former life, she was finally trusting me—enough that she no longer saw me as her opponent. We were together, a team, almost as if this marriage were real.
“I know all about the risks in the gods’ territory,” I said.
“You forget that I’ve already been there, and I’m not stopping now.
But you’re getting worse. You were out for so long, and don’t tell me you’re not in pain now.
” She flinched because she couldn’t deny it.
The gods were trying to carve out her very soul.
“When I’m a god, you won’t have to listen to them.
We’ll cut a place for ourselves in this world, and the vampires will be gone. ”
She folded her hands into fists, but she didn’t fight me. “What if you don’t make it?” she asked.
I shifted my gaze to the altar. Back then, I hadn’t known the death that awaited me on the battlefield. Fragments of myself emerged, recollections of my arrogance even when staring down the wrong end of a weapon. At least I knew I hadn’t changed much.
Shifting my eyes back to my wife—because, fuck it, she was my wife once—I held her fragile gaze.
People only worried about those they loved, and Lux damn sure looked worried right now. With my arm outstretched, I cupped her jaw and tipped her toward me. I kissed her with the weight of two lifetimes and the strength of a warrior who had abandoned Valhalla for her.
Myrah chose me, and Lux knew me, from the second she recognized the warrior within. The person I was in the past.
When we parted, I stared at her perfect lips, swollen with the hard kiss, then dragged my eyes up to meet hers. “If I don’t make it, then I’ll follow you into the next life.”