Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 187(@200wpm)___ 150(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 187(@200wpm)___ 150(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
"Simek."
Damrion stumbles back a step, his face draining of color. "What did you say?"
I blink, not sure why my father's name has the stoic Fae looking so shaken. "Simek," I repeat slowly, glancing at Malachi in confusion. "My father's name was Simek."
Malachi's eyes widen with shock as Adriel reaches out to grasp Damrion's arm, as if to steady him. A ripple of disbelief passes through them.
"That's not possible," Damrion whispers, his voice hoarse. "Simek was…" he trails off, seemingly at a loss for words. His hands tremble faintly.
Fear twists my stomach into knots as I reach for Malachi. What aren't they telling me?
"Malachi?" I ask, my voice shaking with anxiety. "What's going on? Did you…did you know my father too?"
He takes a deep breath, gently squeezing my hand as if to reassure me. "Simek…your father…he wasn't just any Fae warrior, ljúfr. He was Fae royalty. A prince of Álfheimr."
My breath catches in my throat. Royalty? My father was a prince?
"I don't understand," I whisper, my mind reeling. "What does that mean?"
"It means," Adriel says, a rasp in his voice. "You aren't just a Valkyrie. You're konunga-kyn. The last Fae princess." He meets my gaze, his one-eye shining. "And you and Damrion are cousins."
I stare at him in shock, my mind spinning. The night my parents came for me, I wondered if I was human. I guess now I know. I'm no more human than the warriors currently surrounding me. "I think I'm going to pass out."
Malachi curses, leaping forward to sweep me up into his arms.
"Are you okay, ljúfr?" Malachi's eyes track my every move as I pace circles around his chamber, my mind running a million miles a minute.
"Yes." I spin to face him. "No. Are you sure? I mean, couldn't it have been someone else? He couldn't have been the only Fae by that name."
"Nei, he wasn't." A smile flits across Malachi's face. "But you have his features, Marion."
I massage my temples, overwhelmed. Just a few weeks ago, I was an orphan, completely alone in the world. Now, I'm…what, exactly? I don't even know.
Malachi senses my distress and pushes away from the wall, crossing toward me. "Everything will be all right, ljúfr."
"Will it?" I crane my head back to look up at him, wishing I had his confidence. "It doesn't feel all right, Malachi. The Forsaken…"
"What about them?" he asks, pulling me into his arms.
I hesitate, not sure how to even begin unraveling my thoughts. "When the Forsaken came when I was little, I don't think they came for me," I say carefully. I think hard, trying to recall that night. But my mind is like a sieve, refusing to hold onto much more than droplets of memories. "When they saw me that night, they were surprised, like I was unexpected. And then my mother…the way she talked about hiding me, Malachi. It was as if it was a new part of the plan." I meet his gaze. "I think they intended for my father to raise me."
"Perhaps they did," he murmurs, cupping my cheek. "But your safety was more important, ljúfr."
"I know." I sigh. "I just…it doesn't make sense. Why did the Forsaken want him dead so badly back then? What were they so afraid of?" My bottom lip quivers. "What did they know that we don't?"
"I think you may be the answer to that question, Valkyrie." He draws me into his arms. "Your Light is vast. What you held today…it would have burned out any Valkyrie I've ever known, but you didn't waver."
"That wasn't me," I protest. "That was all of us."
"Nei. It was your Light combined, true. But you're the one who held it. It flowed through you, not your sisters. You were the buffer, ensuring your sisters didn't burn out." He tips my head back, brushing his lips across mine. "Your power is immense, Valkyrie. You think the Forsaken were there for your father, but I'm not as sure. If they had any inkling of the weapon you'd become, they would have done everything in their power to stop you. You were their target then, just as you are now. Simek and Rand knew this to be true. They hid you where the Forsaken couldn't follow to ensure you had a chance to become what the world needed."
"W-what am I, Malachi?" I whisper, my throat raw. All my life, I've asked myself some variation of that same question, afraid of the answer.
Even when I forgot everything else, my Light never left. I never forgot what my father taught me—how to call it, how to wield it. And in some ways, I was always afraid of it. Afraid it meant I was…bad or wrong, or something less than human.
No one else could do the things I did. Most never even saw when I accidentally called my Light. I could Light up like the sun standing in front of them, and most never even noticed, as if my fear of being caught kept them from seeing. Even as a kid, I knew that wasn't normal. I knew I wasn't normal.