Page 130 of Valkyrie Unknown

Her red hair draped around her face, and her chest rose and fell with each soft, sleeping breath.

Like this she looked sweet. Vulnerable. Helpless.

When I was done with her, she’d also be broken. That wasn’t happening today, though. Shattering her would take time. A long time. Long enough it would piss off Lugh again and again.

“It’s not personal, Ava.” I brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, and her eyelids fluttered—dark lashes on pale skin—but she didn’t otherwise stir. “If you lived long enough you’d discover the prophecies never are.” It wasn’t easy being a vessel for expectation and fate, but she wouldn’t have to put up with it much longer.

In a blink, she was sitting, and the tip of a sword was pressed to my throat. “Who are you?”

She’d moved so quickly that if I hadn’t been paying attention, I would’ve thought she teleported. Where did she get the blade?

“You don’t recognize me? I’m hurt.” Sarcasm dripped from my retort. Even if we had been introduced before, I was wearing a face I only wore in private these days—my own.

She raised her brows and used a combination of nods and her blade to indicate I should take a step back. As I obliged, she stood and paced in a quarter circle, always watching me.

No trust at all, this one. I hoped Davyn was learning something from her. The big bear had always given his loyalty too easily.

“Answer my question.” Her voice was hard.

“Loki.” I extended my hand.

She nicked the skin on my neck with the flick of a wrist. I felt the sharp sting of the cut, so quick and precise it was almost surgical. I also felt the wound heal almost as fast as she moved.

I dropped my arm and kept the distance between us. Did she know I could teleport? Did she know how to fight someone like that? Finn said he’d refused any requests she made to train with him, but like all of us, Finn was in this for himself. Who the fuck knew if he was telling the truth?

Regardless, “I simply wanted to meet you. See what all the hype was about.”

“Uh-huh.” She planted her feet shoulder width apart, and the tension in her muscles slid toward something more aggressive.

Davyn’s influence was in her fighting stance, but so were others.

“Don’t do that.” I kept my tone kind as I made the request.

“Do what?”

“I’m not a fighter unless I have to be, and I guarantee neither of us wants me to be that today.”

Her chuckle was strained. “Why would I fight you?”

She was feisty, she was sexy, and she was sarcastic. I tilted my head lower, drinking in her form in the flimsy dress, as the lamp behind her hinted at the silhouette underneath. Fascinating.

Azzie snapped her fingers near her face. “Up here, asshole. I’m kind of surprised you left my panties on when you changed my clothes.”

And she was talking instead of fighting. Using the back and forth to assess the situation. She’d rather not fight either.

“I didn’t change your clothes.” Though I was thinking now about how she’d look if I stripped that dress off. How she’d sound, begging me to do so. “This is the siren’s trial.”

“And the best she could give me to confront my fears was you? Are you a manifestation of my subconscious?”

“I’m very real. This isn’t your mind, it’s hercave.” Not a physical cave—not like they used to use. This was a villa a few blocks from Tania’s bakery. “Did you learn the rude behavior from Davyn, or were you like this before?”

Her surprise looked exaggerated. “Who?”

I bet she thought she was a good liar.

“Big bear of a grumpy guy. Probably has so much honor and baggage that he hasn’t touched you yet.” I made a show of studying her again. “He’s missing out.”

“You can’t kill me before I bring you to your knees.” Her voice was hard again, but was that a flicker of doubt in her eyes?

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