My body tensed. I wasn’t sure if I could handle any more pain. But the man wasn’t asking permission, and a fresh pulse of torture made its way through my centers as a wave of light overtook me. I screamed, clawing the man’s chest as a fierce wind sucked us upward and shot us across the sky into a void that matched the energy of my heart.
The brilliant colors of the rainbow bridge swirled around me, pulling at the blackness inside until it felt like I was going to rip in half. Consciousness slipped away, and I once again allowed the darkness to take over. As I released my struggle, I buried my face in my protector’s chest and breathed in the wintry smell of his jacket. This man may have cared for me, but I wasn’t strong enough to be his match. Maybe I could have been in another lifetime, but I was too weak now.
The darkness had won.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I FADED IN AND out of consciousness as bright lights and crystal wands waved over my face. A petite redhead blurred into view, and in my state of slightly diminished discomfort, my identity slowly came back to me. I was Allie, tasked with rebuilding and wielding the immortal weapon Gud Morder and shadowed at all times by four immortal protectors. Through the fog of pain, I recognized the panicked voice of my new friend.
“Her light is so dim,” Greta murmured.
A warm hand rested in mine, and I knew without looking over that it was Tore. Whether he knew it or not, his hand was giving me the strength to hold on. The discordant black energy slithered around inside of me. It wanted to take hold, wanted to rob me of my memories and my happiness, wanted to take who I was. But as long as Tore held my hand, the darkness would lose. It has to lose.
I left consciousness again, floating in the void, the void that was so close to death. I heard the voices of the warriors in Valhalla chanting my name. They called me to come be with them. Not yet.
Then I was back. My eyelids flew open, and I stared into the eye of a very intense man. His silken, white hair fell to his shoulders, and across one eye, he wore a patch. The staff in his hand shimmered in the late afternoon light, and he exuded ancient, raw power. This was Odin, the Alf?dr. He didn’t need to introduce himself; his energy said it all.
“Were she not the daughter of Eir, she would surely have perished.” The Alf?dr’s strong voice rang across the room. The vibration of his tone shifted the resonance of my body, leaving me lighter. The Alf?dr’s presence scared the darkness away, the way I’d always imagined Gran had chased the monsters from my closet. He spoke again, and the darkness within me trembled. “She may still not survive, but I hope, for all of our sakes, that she finds the strength to pull through.” Then he placed a hand on my head, and the darkness within my skull quivered. It crept down my centers, edging away from the Alf?dr’s touch. It shrank as it moved, diminishing in strength, and I felt for a moment that I might be able to speak, to sit up, to fight. But all too soon, the Alf?dr stepped away, and the darkness once again fought to rob me of what was mine. It had begun to claim my soul.
The next time I awoke, I felt lighter, more aware, more . . . more me. Greta and two other healers stood over me, pulling a steady stream of black wisps from my body. Through it all, Tore kept his hand tucked in mine. And with that knowledge, a tiny spark of hope ignited in my chest and spread outward until it enveloped my entire body.
I am going to make it. I will heal. At that thought, a blinding, blue light erupted from my heart center, flying outward and taking the darkness with it. And I sank into the deep, restful sleep my body needed.
****
I finally came back to my body, awakening to the cheerful sound of a songbird trilling just beyond my reach. My mind danced along the edge of consciousness, unwilling to wake until I’d checked my energy centers. The last time I’d been fully in my body, my fourth center played host to a soul vacuum, and my sixth center entertained a troop of tap dancing daggers. If I was still keeping that kind of company, I was going back under.
A quick scan of my centers confirmed that I once again owned my space, so I walked through whatever channels led me to full consciousness and took a deep breath. My ribcage expanded with the effort, and though my muscles groaned in protest, the aches felt like standard-issue pain—not the dark-energy-induced variety. I was healing, albeit slowly, from the nightmare that had been Jotunheim. And from what I could tell, my pain was manageable.
Thank God.
Light nudged against my eyelids, and I allowed them to flutter open so I could study my surroundings. My body was nestled beneath a thick, white duvet. A sea of wildflowers stood in vases at the foot of my bed. A light snow dusted the branches of the tree standing outside my window. And an impossibly beautiful guy slept in a chair against the wall, his outstretched hand still tucked in mine. Tore! Holy mother, the massive guy currently stuffed into the too small recliner at my bedside was Tore. My protector, my tormentor, my crush. The guy who’d literally been to a frost-giant-laden hell and back with me. His long hair was covered with a black beanie, and his face had the stubble of a man who hadn’t shaved in days. It was clear he’d never left my side.
My eyes fell on the silver arm piece lying on the nightstand, and the events from the past few days flashed through my mind. My imagination recalled the nightmare we’d lived through in agonizing detail. I was a demigod. My hands could summon a glowing, blue ball that gave life. The guys and I had recovered two pieces of a god-killing sword, and my body had recently played host to a blob of dark magic that tried to suck the essence from my very being.
All in a day’s work.
I slipped my fingers out of Tore’s strong grasp and pushed the duvet off my legs. Someone had left a pair of fuzzy slippers by my bed, and while it wasn’t the sexiest look, I was willing to run with comfort for the time being. The demigod at my bedside had seen me at my worst, and if my memory served me, I’d picked up some lovey-dovey vibes from him while I was semi-conscious. Assuming that particular recall hadn’t been a figment of my imagination, a few hours of fuzzy slippers weren’t going to wreck whatever it was we had going here.
I hoped.
I padded to the en suite bathroom, where someone had thoughtfully placed a bevy of toiletries. With each movement, I was grateful that I no longer felt the searing pain that had held me captive for so long. I put a generous blob of toothpaste on a brush and scrubbed until my teeth felt minty clean. Then I spent a solid two minutes swishing mouthwash between my cheeks. The events of the past few days had left a foul taste in my mouth, and I wanted to eradicate all traces of my time in that frosty world.
Plus, I didn’t want to have morning breath when the hot guy at my bedside woke up.
The rustling of fabric pulled my focus to the other room, where Tore now stood in front of the chair. As I slowly shuffled out of the bathroom, his chest rose and fell with measured breaths. His eyes scanned up and down my body as if he couldn’t believe I was alive, walking and breathing.
“Allie.” My name passed over his lips like a prayer.