“No, I think not.” Victor chuckled, his voice growing distant. “The longer we are linked, the more our lives grow entwined. If I die, you will die.”
“That’s not true. Bonds don’t work that way.” She remembered Aldrik telling her so, and Vhalla needed it to be true now more than ever.
“But it is true. I will make sure it is. Because I don’t think he will kill me if it means killing you.”
“You lie,” Vhalla screamed mentally. “You lie!”
Vhalla woke with a start. Her skin was flushed, and her blood boiled within her as if trying to purge Victor like an infection. She cradled her face in her hands and, for the first time, contemplated running.
No, Vhalla shook her head at herself. There was no one else. Even if she could find another Windwalker, they’d never withstand this burden. Even if they were willing, they would die before they ever had enough training to be a threat.
A movement from behind startled her. Vhalla turned, her hands flying from her face. Magic was ready upon her fingertips when Aldrik caught them effortlessly. She panted softly, withdrawing the power she’d been ready to unleash on him.
“Vhalla,” Aldrik whispered softly. The blankets pooled around his waist as he sat. “What is it?”
“Don’t touch me.” She twisted, avoiding the hand that sought her cheek.
“Vhalla!” He heaped frustration upon her name. “You waste away before my eyes. I cannot convince you to eat. You thrash in your sleep. And now, now I may not touch you?”
Vhalla stared at her bare-chested husband. Their rations had yet to expire, and the training had been good on his body. In stark contrast, her arms looking more gangly, her waist thinner. She resisted a stirring of want, not the first she’d fought on the march since the gate. Monsters weren’t allowed to want Emperors.
“No.” She withdrew. “You may not.”
Aldrik stared as though she had slapped him. He didn’t utter another word as Vhalla dressed and clipped into her armor.
The Emperor let her go.
Jax waited outside the tent, scrambling to his feet as she stormed out.
“Go,” Vhalla ordered. She was struggling to contain the rage within her.
“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Jax jested.
Vhalla spun on her heel, glaring up at the Westerner. Her hand had flattened and her fingertips stopped at his throat. The broken nail of her middle finger scratched lightly against the hard knot in his neck, right where she had been ready to gouge. Jax didn’t even flinch. He either trusted her a great deal, or he truly didn’t care about dying. Both seemed equally likely.
“Elecia’s right, you are not well, are you?” he whispered.
Vhalla eased away. “I’m fine.”
“Vhalla, you should—”
“I am your Empress!” Her voice raised half a fraction as she raised a finger, pointing it at the tall Westerner’s face. “And you, you fallen disgraced lord, will not tell me what I should and should not do.”
Jax blinked down at her. Vhalla’s breathing was heavy. When he said nothing, she continued on her way alone. Being alone was fine, because if it came to it, Jax wouldn’t be able to protect her. None of them could touch her any longer. The more she trained, the stronger she became. She was evolving into something better than them all.
CHAPTER 28
Her theories were proven true when an enemy force greeted them halfway through the Great Southern Forest. Victor had planned this attack carefully, and it wasn’t until giant flaming trees were falling upon the Imperial army that they even realized the enemy surrounded them. Vhalla watched as the first tree fell, soldiers scrambling out of its way ahead of her, and wondered if she should just let them die. Any who couldn’t protect themselves didn’t deserve life.
However, her hand moved and pushed tree after tree away with gust after gust, sparing her mostly Commons army.
The enemy charged from their hiding places on either side of the road. Vhalla was off Lightning within seconds, her sword drawn. She would tear them all apart herself, with steel or wind.
The first sound of her blade crunching through a skull was the sweetest sound she’d ever heard. Vhalla couldn’t keep a gleeful smile off her face as she turned and depressed a hand into another’s mouth. The woman’s eyes widened and Vhalla savored the look. There it was. That moment right before someone’s death. The split second when they realized their own mortality. That they were going to die by her fingers. She’d never allowed herself to enjoy it before and, oh, she’d been missing so much!
Licking her lips, tasting her kill, Vhalla was already onto the next one. The skies opened, and a late autumn rain drenched the field. Vhalla trusted wind more than ground to keep her feet from slipping.
The rain washed off her trophies, and Vhalla was forced to keep up with the downpour if she wanted any of the satisfying crimson.
Kill them.
Yes, she agreed.
Kill them all.