Page 62 of Valkyrie Confused

His noncommittal grunt isn’t reassuring.

“What’s he doing here?” Starkad asks me, in lieu of a greeting.

I step between them. “He’s with me, and he will behave himself.”

“He’d better.” Starkad crosses his arms over his wide chest. His right arm looks mangled below the elbow, metal shards—and is that wood?—sticking out of blackened flesh.

I raise my gaze to his face, and he flares his nostrils. Okay. Won’t be asking about it, then.

“I want to see Fenrir,” Arnlaug states.

I clear my throat. “What he means to say is,hi, how have you been?”

Starkad huffs, but it’s half-chuckle. “All good.”

Like me, he’s been disillusioned with the old gods, and with good reason. Last I heard, he was actively fighting them—joined theapostates, as Arnlaug calls them.The lingering scent of Valkyrie all over him confirms the rumors that he got his woman back.

He’s still staring us down, which makes me twitch. “Let’s find Fen,” I say. “Arnlaug wants to talk to him, and then we can leave, and you can get back to enjoying your night.”

As if summoned, Fen comes up to us. “Back so soon?”

“I have some questions for you.” Arnlaug really doesn’t do greetings.

Fen studies Arnlaug’s face, then motions for us to follow him. “Let’s get someplace quieter.”

Starkad flanks Arnlaug’s other side, as Fen leads us across the floor and to a door that leads backstage. He points to a table. “Make yourselves comfortable.”

Arnlaug lets go of me and folds his length into one of the chairs. “May I have some wine?”

He means the Olympus wine. I sit beside him and lean in, to whisper, “I thought you weren’t going to drink. This isn’t going to be a short chat, is it?”

“Not gonna be an easy one, that’s for sure.”

Starkad hovers above us as Fen joins us with three glasses of wine. I raise mine to the guys, but Arnlaug downs his in one gulp.

“Has it all been worth it?” He looks at Starkad. “Not going to Valhalla? Chasing one woman across so many lifetimes? Watching her die, again and again?” He’s been more in the loop than I have. I didn’t know about that last part.

Starkad works his jaw, and I expect him to curse Arnlaug out, but he pulls out a chair and sits down instead. “It has been. All of it.” There’s no hesitation in his tone.

Arnlaug nods, as if he expected this answer.

Is he considering doing the same? I squash down the hope in my chest. I let it raise its head before, and watching him walk away hurt all the more for it.

“If I turn my back to Odin… Serving him is all I’ve ever known.” Arnlaug is talking more to himself than to us. “I’ve lost”—he glances at me—“people I cared about because I was convinced Odin was the only true path. And now…” He brings the empty glass to his lips. Lowers it back to the table.

Fen gets up and returns with a large glass pitcher and an extra tumbler. He pours a serving for Starkad and refills Arnlaug’s drink. “What does it even matter?” he asks as he reclaims his seat. “Odin is gone. You’re free to live your life.”

Arnlaug shakes his head and takes a long sip. “That’s why I wanted to see you. He’s back. Has been back for a while.”

Tension wraps around the room, tightening inside my chest. Starkad and Fenrir exchange a glance, their backs stiffer than a moment ago. Neither of them speaks, though I can tell they want to.

“He’s back, and he has me looking for Valkyries.” Arnlaug sounds dejected.

Starkad gets up so fast, his chair topples over.

“Not your Valkyrie,” Arnlaug says to him. “HisValkyries. Unascended ones.” Under his breath, he adds, “Those he can claim and control.” He throws back the rest of his drink. “He doesn’t plan to attack, but he says he wants to be ready for when you bring your fight to his doorstep.”

“You know he considers all Valkyries his,” Starkad growls. “Thinks the world is his. He was the reason Kirby died so many times, because his fucking ego wouldn’t accept that she dared love me more than she loved him.”

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