Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 188(@200wpm)___ 150(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 188(@200wpm)___ 150(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
I shake my head, not sure what to do with that intel.
"Wolves are the most like us, I think," she continues. "It's easier to follow the conversation, and they only share what they think is important." Mischief dances in her eyes as she glances at Ing. "Unfortunately, what's important to a wolf and what's important to us are two very different things."
Ing chuffs quietly, rolling his eyes.
"You called me to complain about a rabbit, big guy," she says quietly, laughing at him as she scratches his ears again. "That's not an emergency."
I cock my head to the side, realization surging through me. "You have them keeping watch for the Forsaken, don't you?"
"There are more animals in Valhalla than there are Fae." She meets my gaze, shrugging. "It seemed like the smart thing to do to ensure we aren't taken by surprise."
Jesus Christ. Why didn't we think of that?
Probably because none of us have ever communicated with an animal, let alone had a full-blown conversation with one like she does. But still, the plan has merit because she's right. There are more animals in Valhalla than there are Fae. When the Forsaken come, we're going to need every advantage we can get.
"We should head back soon, princess," I murmur after a moment. "It'll be dark soon."
Kara sighs heavily and then nods. "My sisters and I have things to do anyway."
"And yet you're out here alone more than you're with them," I observe, watching her closely.
She simply shrugs in response, avoiding looking at me as she says goodbye to Ing and rises to her feet. I grind my teeth, frustrated that I don't understand her when every part of me wants to know every thought in her head. I spend every day watching her, wondering what she's thinking, how she's feeling…driving myself mad with the possibilities. Now that she's in front of me, speaking to me, I want to soak up every crumb of knowledge about her I can get.
Ing glances at me, chuffs, and then slips back into the shadows before disappearing.
"Perhaps I've gotten used to being alone, Stephan," Kara says then, a thread in her voice that I don't like. It's…pain. Grief.
My chest aches in response.
"You mean since the Forsaken killed your family."
"Sure." She shrugs and starts walking, retracing our path out of the ruins.
I hesitate for a split second and then reach out again, clamping my hand gently around her upper arm…not entirely sure what to expect after what happened last time.
That same surge of Light shears through me, turning my cock to stone. Good Gods. It's exquisite.
Kara whimpers softly, listing to the side as it slams into her too. She tries to jerk her arm free but only manages to throw herself off balance in the process. She stumbles, falling right into my arms.
I catch her against my chest, searing desire blazing through me. And I'm not entirely sure if what I feel is my own desire, or if it's hers. But there's so goddamn much of it. Gods, it hurts in the best way.
I groan, going rigid as our eyes lock.
I should pull away, put distance between us again. I know I should…
I dip my head, my nose skimming along the side of hers.
She whimpers in the back of her throat, the sweetest little sound of surrender.
"Valkyrie," I groan, fighting the urge to seam my mouth to hers and steal the truth from her lips.
"I was alone long before the Forsaken murdered my family," she whispers. "When you're different like me, you're always alone, Stephan."
"Not anymore, princess," I growl, pulling her closer, as if I can physically protect her from the ache of loneliness vibrating in her voice—in her soul. "You haven't been alone in weeks. I've been right here with you."
Her gaze tracks across my face, her expression so fucking serious, as if she's seeking out the truth, trying to find it for herself. Whatever she finds on my face—or perhaps whatever she feels rippling between us—seems to bolster her confidence. Hope grows, replacing doubt.
I lower my lips toward hers, desperate to taste her, to claim her.
Mine, mine, mine, a little voice screams in the back of my mind. This Valkyrie is mine.
With her in my arms, I can't deny it. I don't want to deny it. She wasn't made for some Fae warrior. She was crafted for me. The truth resonates in my bones, shaking me all the way to my soul. This Valkyrie is supposed to be mine.
"Stephan," she whimpers. "Kiss me."
My lips barely brush hers before a shout rings out in the valley, effectively dousing us in ice water. We spring apart as I spin, thrusting her behind me.
"Forsaken!" one of the Fae shouts. "The Forsaken are here!"
My ímun-laukr hisses from the scabbard, grim intent whispering through me.
"Stay behind me, princess," I warn her, my heart pounding. "I'll get you back to your sisters safely."