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“Love has made you stupid,” her friend muttered into her chest. Vhalla met Elecia’s eyes as she answered, “I know.”
There was a woman in Vhalla who was self-assured, confident, and capable. It was a woman who would save her prince—again—and conquer the North. She clashed starkly with the girl who wanted to hide her grief-filled face from the world, to curl under Aldrik’s blankets and leave their fate to the Gods. If they lived or died they would do it at each other’s side.
“Because no matter how far we go, the Tower takes care of its own.”
One act of defiance after the next, she had made her choice.
“You show up as if you materialize from the wind itself, to save the life of the crown prince whom you jumped off the side of the Pass in an attempt to save. You’re unassuming, you’re filthy, and you’re soaked in what I can only presume to be the blood of our enemies.” A grin slowly spread across Jax’s face, like that of a rabid beast. “Who said anything about being disappointed?”
“Well, you must not be human.” He glanced at her sideways. “Maybe you’re half-wind, Serien.”
“What am I?” She shook her head. “Am I Vhalla? Am I owned? Am I free? Am I Serien? Am I strong or weak or . . . I don’t know.” She stared at her hands, as if confused as to where they had come from. “I can kill and love with the same heart. I don’t find fear in the things I should and yet can be terrified of the fact. Baldair, I don’t know what I am—who I am—anymore.”
“You are as unrelenting and determined as the wind itself. You are doing what you must to survive. It’s what we’re all doing, leaning on what we must to keep the pieces together.”
She hadn’t studied and trained to be the woman she had become; it had been carved into her by the world’s demands.
“Well, if my crime is love, then I am indeed guilty.”
“My magic is my muscle,” she said as confidently as possible.
They were a tangle of limbs, kisses, and magic.
For better or worse, Vhalla realized, she had too much of a soul left to ignore sacrifice.
It didn’t matter who was threatening her now, Emperor or otherwise; they’d all end up disappointed when the battle was done and she was still standing.
“You were not born to be their leader, you were chosen. And that has far greater weight.”
Together, they were unstoppable. Bound, Joined, madly in love, there was no longer any boundaries that could limit them. They were a single force of nature.
“You are the bards’ most epic songs brought to life.”
The only thing she had left to her name was the name itself.
Strewn about the floor of Aldrik’s room were all the things she’d taken to the North: her clothes, her armor, a few meager possessions, and her heart.
And by the time the crown prince learned of the Windwalker’s whirlwind departure, Vhalla Yarl was too far to hear his screams of anguish.
