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)
"Do you know something, Valkyrie?" Dax asks her.
Abigail's gaze shifts toward where me, Marion, and Tori are standing and then away. But not before I see the flash of guilt in her crystalline eyes.
"Tell them, ást-meer," Damrion murmurs, reaching out to stroke her cheek. "They need to know what you do."
"No sentence that starts that way ever goes anywhere I like," Reaper says bleakly.
Malachi grunts his agreement.
"I've been having…nightmares for the last week. Or visions? I'm not sure," Abigail mumbles. "But the Forsaken wanted us to open the Portal. We all know they did."
No one disagrees. I don't think anyone can. Their goal was always to get us to open it. They just wanted us in their hands first. At least, that's what the Fae assumed. But from the sound of things, maybe that wasn't the case.
"They need us to figure out how to work the Bifröst since they can't travel beyond the Veil like we can. But now that we're here, now that we're working on it, they're trying to…turn me?" Abigail fumbles for an explanation. "They're using my visions against me, trying to make me question what's real and what isn't. It's worse than before." She swallows hard. "Way worse."
For months, they've tormented her with false visions to hide their motives and their movements, ensuring she couldn't trust the gift she was given. They attack her at every opportunity, haunting her mind, toying with her visions. If they've ramped up their abuse of her Power now that the Bifröst is functioning, it isn't good news.
"Abigail," Marion whispers softly, her face falling.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Rissa wants to know.
Abigail shrugs helplessly. "I wanted to be wrong."
"How can you be sure you aren't?" Dax asks gently.
Guilt burns in Abigail's eyes. "I saw the Forsaken in my dreams last night," she mutters. "I saw him in Valhalla. But I didn't…" she trails off, glancing down at the ground.
"You did nothing wrong," Adriel growls, his voice fierce. "You didn't know."
"I knew," she argues softly.
"Hindsight is not the same as knowing," Damrion murmurs, no less fierce in his unfailing defense of their mate than Adriel. "You saw him in your dreams, and now that it's come to pass, you think you knew and said nothing. But you haven't been able to trust your visions for weeks, ást-meer. They ensured you couldn't. Doubting what you see is not the same as silently letting it come to pass."
No one argues with him. He's right. Abigail would never keep that to herself if she thought it was going to happen. But the Forsaken filled her with doubt, so now, she's afraid to trust herself or her visions.
And that's precisely what they wanted. They don't want her to be able to trust what she sees. Because if she can't trust what she sees, neither can we. They want to break her, want her to crack. They need her to stumble because they don't know how any of this ends any more than we do. And they desperately want her and her visions under their control, giving them a road map to success. But Abigail may be the strongest of all of us. She's lived with her visions for most of her life. Even before she realized she was Valkyrie, she had the visions.
Even if she doubts, she won't break easily. They tried once when they kidnapped her. They tortured her, trying to get her to turn. She refused to bend or relent. She may be the youngest of us, but there's a hidden vein of strength in her that runs soul deep.
"The important question is what do we do now?" Malachi rumbles. "We can't stand around waiting for them to attack in force."
"We figure out how to free the souls," Rissa says as if it's simple. It isn't. We've been trying since we got here, and we're still standing on square one, looking at an impossible problem. How do you cross a bridge you can't find? We don't know.
But Rissa thrusts her shoulders back, her gaze flickering to me and then to Abigail before she glances at the Fae. "I need some time alone with my sisters."
The Fae and Stephan all look like they want to argue, but for once, they don't. The Fae grumble quietly as they hug my sisters. Stephan steps up beside me, his gray eyes settling on my face.
"See you later, princess," he says, a smirk playing around his lips. He turns to stride away.
I reach out for him, halting him. "Stephan, I…"
But when his gaze locks with mine again, I lose the nerve to finish that sentence. Instead, I let my hand drop from his arm and step back.
"Thanks for getting me back here," I mumble.
"Ég fer þangað sem þú ferð," he says, touching my cheek before he quickly strides away.
I go where you go.