Pure elation bubbled through me.
I just needed the coup de grace, and it would all be over.
“Skalei.” With the hilt in my hand, I slammed her into his skull, and he dropped to the ground dead.
I felt myself beaming with victory. I’d done it. I’d fucking done it. With me as ruler, the Night Elves would be free. Elation pulsed through my body.
“No!” Revna screamed, ripping me out of my victory haze. “She cannot win. She’s in league with Galin. She helped the king-slayer!”
I tore my eyes away from my opponent as he lay dying. Fury ignited in my body. Should I just kill her now?
Then, I felt the electrical rush of magic, and my gaze flicked to my right. A black portal was opening, not far from me.
Galin. His golden form was coming through. This felt like a miscalculation, somehow. He was in danger here, and I wanted to keep him safe.
“She killed the king!” Revna was ranting, completely out of her mind. “My spies told me!”
The crowd was roaring. And when I looked back at Revna, my heart skipped a beat. A fresh wave of dread crashed into me.
She held a crossbow aimed directly at me, ready to shoot.
“Skalei.” I felt the blade in my hand again.
But the bolt was already on its way.
The world fell silent as Galin charged in front of me, taking the hit for me. The arrow slammed into his neck, tearing it open.
It was as if I was in a void, and everything was happening too fast for me to put my own thoughts into words. I knew I was screaming, but I couldn’t hear a thing. Rage and pain ripped my mind apart, and I threw Skalei with all my strength.
The blade landed in Revna’s forehead, and she slumped to the ground, blood pouring from her skull.
I looked down at Galin. Desperately I hoped he was only wounded, but his gaze was already lost in another realm. I fell to my knees. Blood gushed from the wound as I cradled him in my arms. Tears filled my eyes, the loss like shards of glass in my heart.
I was dimly aware of the Vanir rejoicing in our victory, not giving a shit about Galin. But my focus was on him. His golden eyes were unfocused now, his breath labored. He seemed like he was already far away, drifting into Valhalla, the glorious afterworld for those who died in battle.
The soul bond might be severed, but what I felt now was real. I had no question of that anymore. I pulled him up close, wishing desperately that I knew the magic he did. I’d be able to fix his ravaged throat. But all I knew was how to use a fucking knife.
The world dimmed around me, the roars of the crowd fading. His lifeblood was pumping out, his breath slowing. Panic screamed in my mind.
There was only him and me.
And … Loki’s wand on the stone by his side.
Loki’s wand that could open worlds, raise the dead. Loki’s wand, which I didn’t know how to use—yet.
His eyes were going dim. A wand like that could bring someone alive again.
Before anyone could see what lay in front of me, I snatched up the wand and slid it up my sleeve. Then, I cradled Galin in my arms once more. I would find a way to bring him back.
But as I held him close, his body started to shimmer away, then simply disappeared into the shadows.
I stared at my empty arms, feeling like someone had torn my heart out.
I didn’t know where he was, but I’d never seen a body disappear like that. Some strange magic was at work.
There it was again, that little spark of hope. That fleck of light in the darkness. Perhaps he’d managed to escape death again, like he always did.
And if so, Loki’s wand would help me find him.
Chapter 47
Galin
I’d always assumed that when my time came, I would accept it, allow fate to follow its course. But as I looked into Ali’s eyes, I knew I had to fight it.
I was supposed to be King of the High Elves. I was supposed to be the one to usher in a new era, a golden age where the High Elves ruled with justice and morality.
Instead, I’d been shot in the neck by my own sister, and I found myself drifting in the astral plane. Death in battle meant Valhalla. I wondered what that might be like now, after Ragnarok.
But maybe it wasn’t Valhalla I needed.
What if I could live? Hela had said I would rule as king.
I had one last deal to strike, and as I let myself drift through the astral plane, I summoned the shade.
Ganglati’s voice rose in my mind. Hela wants you by her side. She believes you will reign as king of Helheim.
“Tell her I will accept her deal.” For now. “But I stay alive. I keep my body, my beating heart. I keep my memories and my soul.”
But Ali was my true fate. And even if I could feel that she’d managed to sever our entwined threads—even if we were no longer mates—Ali was the beginning and the end for me. Soul bond or not, I loved her. Not Hela.
What was the price, I wondered, for betraying a goddess?
I snapped back into my body. Warm blood filled my mouth, and my thoughts drifted back to another time, when the gods had been alive and the verdant lands had spread out around us. I felt myself flickering between life and death.
For one moment, swords clashed around me, mountains rose into the mist, and thunder rolled over the horizon. The great mead hall of Valhalla rose above me, the place I’d always yearned to see, with a ceiling made of shields and the scent of roasted boar floating through the air. The final resting place of the Sword of the Gods; a realm that called to my soul. And I could stay there, forever, in the magnificent battle of the dead.
But that wasn’t what I truly wanted. Not yet. I wanted Ali.
And that meant striking a deal. So, I was on my way to Helheim once more—the afterlife for those who died ingloriously. I would sit on an obsidian throne, with a black crown on my head, surrounded by gloom and shades. But I would keep my beating heart. And I would find my way to Ali again.
My soul drifted on psychic winds in a stygian darkness. It snapped back into my body, now fully healed. Frowning, I touched my throat where the arrow had ripped it open. Not even a scar to mar my skin.
A floor of gray stone spread out beneath me, and violet candlelight cast dancing shadows back and forth over the room.
My eyes flicked up, and there, I saw her reclining on her throne—Hela. Resplendent in all her glory, she shone with divine light. When she saw me, she tilted her head back and smiled. Her smile was stunning and terrifying at the same time, and I felt her dark power slide down to my very bones. Her magic rumbled over the room like thunder, eyes gleaming black as onyx. My breath left my lungs.
A living goddess before me.
I fell to my knees. “I hail the goddess of the harrowing, Lady of Death, daughter of Loki. Wielder of famine and disease, mistress of death in beds of straw. Thank you for accepting me as a living liege in your court of death.”
“Rise, Sword of the Gods.” Her deep voice echoed off the walls. “You have brought me back to life. For this, you will rule with me as king.”
I stood, momentarily awed by her as I looked into her impenetrably black eyes.
Already, though, I was thinking of how I could get back to Ali.
Perhaps this was what Wyrd had written for me, and this was the kingdom where I was meant to rule. But I would fight this fate with all my strength.
I was going to forge a new fate. And once that was done, I was going to do whatever it took to win back my mate.