Page 37 of Valkyrie Renewed

Her cheeks turned a shade of pink. “I was admiring your tattoo. That’s all.”

Angel returned with her toy. I slowly turned my attention toward the dog. “Sure. You keep telling yourself that.”

If she wanted to appreciate me, I’d give her whatever view she wanted. She only had to ask.

We settled in for more conversation and ball throwing. I was going to relish the time we had to spend here today. The more I learned about her, the better chance I had at making her mine again.

Chapter Nine

Astrid

A gentle breezeteased my hair, bringing with it the fresh scent of clean air and wildflowers. The land sloped around me into the most stunning fjord not even photographs could capture. Fluffy white clouds lazily drifted through the blue sky above, and reflected off the beautiful water deep within the deep inlet.

Familiarity washed over me, as if I’d been here before, and yet, while I’d traveled before, I’d never gone farther than Canada. No place had been this spectacular.

I cocked my head when I caught the sound of flapping wings.That’s an unusual sound.I’d heard various birds flying, but this wasn’t one I was familiar with.Is that sound getting closer?

Turning, I looked around for the source of the steady wings. A large shadow cast on the ground approaching got me to jerk my head up. My eyes went wide.

Above me, a woman of pale complexion swooped down toward me. Long golden hair freely flowed in the wind behind her, and the black wings spreading from her back beat strong, propelling her through the air.

She landed with grace and elegance and gazed down at me with stunning blue eyes. Armor that looked more fantastical than real with its form fitting, semi-revealing appearance with skulls and other detailed decoration, covered her slim, athletic form.

She smiled. “It’s so good to see you again, Astrid. It’s been so long.”

“Kirby?” I blinked.Where did that name come from?

“I’m so glad you remember. I can’t wait to see you in person.”

I tilted my head, one eyebrow raising. “Huh?”

She grabbed me by the shoulders. Not roughly, more friendly, but it still startled me. “I’ve missed you.”

Missed me?How could she miss me when I didn’t know who she was?And yet, I do?

“It’s time you finally grow into your wings.”

Kirby stepped back and her wings flapped, black feathers flying out. I threw my arms over my face and shut my eyes to protect myself.

When I opened my eyes, I was faced with the view of the fabric of my canopy, and surrounded by the comfort of my bed. Morning sunlight slipped in through my windows.

I let out a slow breath and draped my arm over my forehead. “The fuck was that dream?”

Kirby.How did I know her name? Hell, why did she look so familiar? Did I meet someone like her at some point in my life?Maybe a photo?

I knew the mind transposed faces and identities onto people in dreams, even if it was someone we only saw in passing.But the fact that I was so sure I knew her…

A large body shifted in my bed, and I let out anoofwhen Angel dropped her head onto my chest. I smiled and scratched her along her chest. “I had the strangest dream, girl.”

Angel’s ears perked, and she cocked her head to the side. I loved it when she did her head tilt. She was so cute.

“I met a Valkyrie.” As the words left my lips, my thoughts paused.Was that a Valkyrie? How would I know that? Am I making assumptions because of Tyr’s tattoo?None of this made any sense.

I shook my head and sat up, gaining a displeased groan from Angel. I chuckled. For such an energetic dog, she sure was lazy in the morning. “I have to get ready for the day and forget that weird dream. You can stay in bed a moment longer.”

Angel gladly sprawled out when I climbed out of bed and I slowly readied myself. Today wasn’t a workout day, though as I went through my routine, and the dream refused to fade from my mind, I wondered if I should change up my schedule. I just couldn’t shake it. Her words clung to me, as if they were the key to a question I’d yet to ask.

I leaned against the canopy posts of my bed when I’d finished my morning routine. My fingers slid along the elegant engravings of my dad’s handiwork, as well as some of my marks where we’d made the posts together.

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