Page 77 of Valkyrie Unknown

“Something like that.”

“One is my forge and the other is on my floor.”

She molded her body to mine. “It’s not as if I have to wield them while I fuck. Think you can sleep now?”

Yes, but not because of the sex. Because she was here. “Stay. Just a little longer.” I should be concerned about the condom thing, but nothing mattered in this moment except being closer to her.

The way she pressed even closer was all the answer I needed.

This was the start of something terrifying. Not in anI’m losing myself to infatuationkind of way, but more of athe world is about the crumblething.

No. I was looking for an excuse to dislike a good thing. How could something that felt this right be bad?

Twenty-One

Azzie

I didn’t meanto fall asleep next to Zeke. Fucking without protection was one thing, but letting my guard down like this was dangerous.

So why was lying next to him, relaxed and exposed, one of the few things that feltrightin my life?

Zeke’s clock said it was nearly one in the afternoon. I should do something with my day. Try to reach Davyn again. Do more research about how many different ways one could interpret a prophecy whereone life must end before the next begins.

Not that I hadn’t researched the fuck out of that over the years—I’d never wanted to end someone’s life in order to become more—but I needed answersnow.

But first, the essentials. I forced myself out of bed, careful not to wake Zeke, and headed into my own room to take a shower and get dressed.

I called Davyn, and when he didn’t answer, I scrambled for a cryptic-to-anyone-but-him message to leave. Should’ve thought of that before I dialed. “Hey. Um, still on vacation. Did you ever call the bookstore back? Hope you’re all right.” I couldn’t stop the wish from escaping. “See you soon.”Please.

The prophecy journal was tucked inside my bag, and I cast a glance in that direction. None of this was what I expected. The way we’d interpreted everything—Mom, me, Enid, most recently Davyn—painted a picture of non-stop magical violence for me to confront head-on and one-on-one.

Not gunmen in buildings destroying city blocks. Killing the people around me. Not a man who’d lived a life completely different from mine, yet with such similar experiences. Who I was drawn to like he was a drug.

I finally understood why moths flew to flames, and I didn’t want to stop when it came to Zeke. I didn’t want to change any of my behavior around him.

Should I leave? Walk away while he was sleeping, with a note and payment for any work he’d already done? If I couldn’t find my blade and grips, was I willing to leave them behind?

Staying for the weapon was an excuse, and my being here was dangerous. To me. To him. To Gabby and that diner and anyone nearby.

I’d see first if I could locate the pieces of my knife, and decide from there. Moving as quietly as I ever had, I left my room and headed toward Zeke’s forge. Inside, I looked around the room. I wouldn’t take the new steel—I couldn’t do anything with that anyway—I only needed my grips.

There was a shelf running floor to ceiling on the far side of the room that held materials for handles, but those were raw supplies. His worktable, with the sketchpad and a handful of tools, was a short distance from that. Would he have tucked the grips into one of the shelves in there?

I felt more like a criminal than I wanted to as I moved further into the room, searching visible surfaces first.

I really didn’t want to go through his drawers. How did thieves do this? It was more nerve-wracking than preparing to face off against a grandmaster who had the ability to disable or kill me with one calculated move.

“They’re in the safe.” Zeke’s voice came from behind, startling me.

How the fuck did he keep sneaking up on me?

“You know, cuz it would suck to have someone steal something like elven enchanted knife grips,” he said.

Busted. I felt so horrible about getting caught, I didn’t try to come up with an excuse as I turned to face him. The best I could offer was a shrug.

“We promised to stick together.” His tone was flat rather than accusatory.

Flat was worse. “We promised not to hurt each other, and I didn’t say I was leaving.”

---