Baler comes to sit on the ground beside me, looking down on me. His eyes rake over my body like a slow intimate caress, sending shivers down my spine and a slow-building heat takes up residence in my lower abdomen. What is this?
Seeming to come back to himself, his eyes find mine and there's a look there that I have never seen in him before. Something akin to want, desire, longing. He shakes his head and schools his features. “Okay, Grace. We’re done until you talk. You’re not focused and it’s causing you to slip up. Spill it.” The tone of his voice is firm but filled with concern.
Slowly and with significant effort, I roll to my side and sit up next to Baler. I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. Staring at the green grass below my feet, I take a few centering breaths and try to collect my competing thoughts.
"I met with Fenrir and Odin. Something happened while I was resting after our training earlier. I..." I bite my lower lip trying to figure how to put into words what happened with Riley without sounding completely insane. Of course, given where we are, I guess not much would sound insane to Baler. "I dream walked today." I look up at him for some kind of reaction, but his face is unchanging.
"I'm not sure what you are looking for right now, Grace. Dream walking is nothing new to me. Given your premonition dreams, I am not surprised you have other powers revolving around your dreams as well. It makes a lot of sense when you think about it."
He studies me a moment in silence as my mind processes his words. After a few heartbeats he breaks the silence and urges me to continue. "Go on, continue. What happened after you woke from your dream walk?"
"I dream walked with my sister. I saw her. I talked with her. It's been two months since I died and last saw her. She's a mess, Baler. A complete wreck. She's lost everything. Her home, her fiancé, her career, her will to live. She's drinking, and I’m fairly sure she’s doing drugs as well. Do you know how much it killed me to see her like that, how heartbreaking that was? How much I want to comfort her, to fix it and make her whole again?
"After I got ripped away from her, I questioned what the hell happened. It felt real but not at the same time. I don’t really know how to explain it. I needed answers, real ones this time. So, I sought out Odin and demanded them. He confirmed that it was real, and it was called Dream Walking. I'm a Dream Walker.
"He told me I can't go back to her, no matter how much I want to. I have to just let her keep suffering knowing I can help her. I could help ease some of her pain if I just told her where I was and that I was okay. That I would be coming back, and she'd see me again." My eyes begin to fill with tears that I sniff back.
"Did he tell you why you couldn't reach out to her again? Why you had to leave her be?"
"He said that I will help her, just not in that way. That I would see it, the way I would help her and until then, I must not interfere. Only that she will be all right, and I will help her in time. It still sucks though, having to sit back and do nothing." I chuckle at that last part; you'd think I would be used to seeing things I wanted to change but having to sit back and do nothing because it would only make things worse if I interfered. Baler looks at me with an air of concern that I wave away.
"Anyways," I look up at Baler, "after finding out that little bit of news, I was tactlessly informed that I am indeed a shifter." The look of shock that crosses his face is enough to cause me to release a true genuine laugh.
"Wait, so you mean you have a wolf?"
"Yes, that is what that means."
"Wow. So why have you not shifted?"
"Because I'm cursed. No shortage on surprises today.” Baler nods, trying to keep his face passive as I continue. “When I was little, a curse was placed on me to suppress my wolf. To bury her so deep I couldn't even feel a spark from her. Fenrir informed me that they can break the curse but there are a lot of risks to it. Death being one."
"That would be the worst though, right?"
"No, I think the worst would be living without her for another day."
"What do you mean, Grace?"
"I've lived without my wolf for over twenty years, Baler. I have always felt this emptiness inside me. A void that never seemed to be filled. It didn’t matter how many people I surrounded myself with or how much love they gave me. There was always something missing. I always just assumed it stemmed from the loss of my parents, but now I know it's my wolf.
"If we try to break this curse and it doesn't work, and I'm left living without her… I don't think I could keep going, not with knowing what I’ve lost. Do you know what it feels like to go every day missing an important piece of your soul? I don't want to feel empty anymore, Baler." A tear runs down my cheek without my permission. Baler slides a little closer and wipes it from my face.
I pull my knees tighter to my chest as Baler drapes an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. "Hey, you are not in this alone. I will help you in any way I can, Little Valkyrie."
"They knew.” My voice breaks as my emotions get the best of me. “They knew and they didn't tell me. These last few months, I could have had her with me. I could have been whole. Hell, my whole life, if they had stepped in and fixed it so the curse never happened, I could have had her from the beginning. But they never gave me a choice. They hid the truth from me and made my choices for me. I swear they get their kicks off of watching other people suffer."
"Grace, you know that is not the case. We only wanted you to be strong enough to survive breaking the curse," Fenrir says from behind me.
Baler turns to see Fenrir approaching, but I just tuck my face into my knees. "Sir," Baler says with a small nod. I can feel Fenrir’s gaze heating my back, but I refuse to look at him.
A tense and awkward silence fills the air around us before Fenrir breaks it.
"Baler, will you give us a moment, please." It comes out as a request, but we all know it was a command.
Baler gives me a light squeeze on my shoulder and begins to rise before I grab hold of his arm. "No, he stays," I demand.
Fenrir nods his head. "As you wish." He takes a seat in front of Baler and I before he continues. "Grace, I know you are upset and possibly disappointed with Odin and I.” I snort a halfhearted laugh at that acknowledgment. He chooses to ignore my little outburst and continues. “I need you to try and understand the precarious position we were in. You, better than anyone, know you cannot test fate. You have seen what can happen when you intervene with fate’s plans. Things can go abysmally wrong, even if you have the best of intentions.
"You have the gifts of my father, Grace. If you can see the possible outcomes of people's decisions, do you not believe he can as well?"
He allows me to mull that statement over a moment. He's not wrong, I do. I remember all those years ago, sitting in my room, rocking while hugging my knees to my chest, as Riley was down the hall getting attacked by Alastair, and there was nothing I could do to help her because if I had, one or both of us would have ended up dead. I had seen the outcomes of each decision I made. No matter how much I wanted to intervene, I just couldn't.
"I guess I can see your point." Baler, whose arm still rests across my shoulders like a comforting weight, gives my arm a light squeeze. Silently praising me for relenting my anger and trying to see it their way. He knows my temper can be rather unyielding. I give him a side-eye look that says 'ass'. He returns my unspoken barb with a knowing smirk of his own. How can he look so damn sexy smirking at me like that? Not the time, Grace. Head in the game.
"I need you to see my side as well, Fenrir." Fenrir nods his head at me with a haunting look on his face.
"I do, Grace. I assure you; I can see your point. I truly wish I could have told you. Odin saw what would have happened, testing different ages but this was the best outcome. You have been shattered for so long that your need to be whole is so intense. Regardless of what anyone said, you would have jumped headlong into breaking the curse. You would have done so before you were strong enough to physically handle the backlash. You
r strong will would only get you so far when it came to surviving the breaking of the curse.”
I replayed his words over in my head, breaking them down. Back then I wouldn’t have been strong enough, but I’m not that little girl anymore. I’m stronger now. I can do this. I stand, one hip cocked with my arms crossed over my chest. “I want the curse broken. Now,” I demand. Fenrir eyes me like I had just performed some unreal magic trick. “You said you didn’t tell me before because I wasn’t strong enough to survive the process. Why did you tell me now? I’m assuming you think I’m strong enough now. So, well, let’s do this then.”
“Grace, I do not think you fully understand the magnitude of what it is you are asking.”
“I understand it just fine. You’ve told me enough, Fenrir. I understand I could be left a vegetable or even dead. News flash on that front… I’m already dead. So, let’s go, what are we waiting for?”
I follow behind a silent and tense Fenrir with Baler at my back. After heading back into the palace, we enter into a grand hall, easily two stories high. Much like every other room I have seen so far, the floors are a brilliant white marble with intricate golden etching designs. Large open archways take the place of windows, with flowing sheer white curtains, blowing in with a light breeze. However, high up the wall are stained glass windows that appear to tell stories of past battles and wars. Of love and families. Births and deaths.
The smell of woodsy pine and mountain air carries in through the open windows, filling my senses but does little to relax my drumming fingers that rap along my outer thighs, or to quell my running thoughts.
Fenrir heads up a low set of stairs that lead to a gold altar, beautifully decorated with images of sacrifice, love, and Nordic symbols I can’t begin to understand. Fenrir begins to clear the altar of the candles, plates, and coverings.
As I stand there staring at the elaborate symbols carved into the blinding light of the altar, the sounds around me begin to blur into the background. Until the only noise left that I could hear is my rapid heartbeat and heavy breathing. My knees start to tremble as my nerves begin to take over, and I find myself with the overwhelming desire to run.
As I turn back the way we came, preparing to bolt down the stairs, I come face to face with Odin and suddenly everything goes silent, including the sound of my own pulse and breathing. He stands just at the top of the stairs. The firm set line of his jaw and the arch of his brow tells me he knows what I am thinking. “You cannot second guess yourself, Grace. You are either ready for this or you are not. You must decide.” Odin’s deep baritone voice penetrates to the deepest recesses of my mind. He moves, coming to stand in front of me, then places two fingers on my left temple. “Do not think, feel. Search inside yourself for what you seek.”
Closing my eyes, taking steadying breaths, I reach down into the hollow spot deep within my soul. A light I’ve never seen there before sparks. It’s not a blinding light but a flicker of feelings and life. Images in vivid living color flash through my mind’s eye as Odin’s touch begins to warm against my temple. Hazy images of men play like an old flip book behind my eyes. Most of the faces I’ve seen before, but there’s one I’ve never met. Scents and feelings accompany the images. What the hell is that?
Mates. A weak, broken voice cries from the spark, just a flicker of her life, carried on a wave of desire for freedom.
The warmth and pressure at my temple suddenly lessens and when I open my eyes, it isn’t Odin standing in front of me, instead it’s Baler I find. The look of concern on his face as he reaches up and glides his thumb over my cheek to wipe the tear I didn’t know fell, breaks my resolve.
If what I saw is true, I have mates. Something I never thought possible, not with being mortal. More than that though, one stands in front of me, but he doesn’t know it. How could he, he’s mortal? Hell, I didn’t know it either. My eyes seek out Odin’s before I ask, “Was that true? What I just saw, is it true?”
“Yes,” is his only reply. I mindlessly nod in response, my thoughts and emotions reeling. I have mates, not a mate, but mates. If I do this, break the curse and free my wolf, become Odin’s warrior and fulfill the prophecy, I could be with them. My mates.
My mind drifts to my mate in front of me and my eyes meet Odin’s again. “To have this, I need to break the curse, right? And to get back to my sister too, correct? Could I still fulfill the prophecy without breaking the curse?” As the last question leaves my lips, a feeling of utter despair floods my system. Mates are a shifter thing. Sure, there’s an attraction for each other and that can be strong in many ways, but that connection, the pull to a mate is ten times stronger as a shifter.
What the hell am I thinking? None of that matters, this isn’t about me and my possible mates. This is about freeing my wolf. Besides, regardless of whether I leave this place or not, free my wolf or not, I’ll lose at least one mate anyways. Story of my life, to lose those closest to me.
For just a moment, my gaze falls on Baler before meeting Odin's again. I know he can read my thoughts by the look on my face. He knows my history, my losses, and I’m sure it’s written clear as day on my face. He offers me a tight look of understanding. “If this is your choice, and it is one only you can make, we will fix it, Grace. I promise you." I can see the finality in the declaration, a promise that I won’t have to sacrifice a possible connection.
I nod again before taking a deep breath, finding my center, straightening my spine, and before I talk myself out of it again, I blurt out, "I want this. I need this."
Grace
Fenrir walks up to me with a gently folded white silk cloth held lovingly in his hands. “Okay, Grace. Head over there and put this on.” He nods to a corridor behind me. “No metal of any kind can be on your person while we do this.” With a tight almost regretful smile, he hands me the garment. Its smooth texture caresses my fingers, feeling like the gentle kiss of a slow-flowing waterfall. Carefully, I unfold it to find a simple but elegant white and gold slip of a dress. I’m starting to see a trend in their color choices here.
“It’s beautiful,” I say to no one in particular. Giving everyone a tight smile and a nod, I turn on my heels and head to the passageway. Which I find leads into a beautiful bathing room. A large round bathing pool with a thigh-high rim sits in the middle of the room, large enough to hold at least twenty people comfortably. Eight golden benches are spaced regularly around the perimeter of the pool, leaving the entrance open and unhindered. Double open arch windows are placed around the outside of the room leading to open balconies. It’s then I take notice of the fact the room is round rather than square.
I stare into the steam drifting off the water in the pool, the flower petals floating freely across the surface, the smell of lavender fills my senses, and I get lost in the peaceful nature of the room. Should I live through this, I would love to revisit this room.
Large, solid work-worn hands settle tenderly on my shoulders, and I am immediately made aware that I was lost in my own thoughts. The scent of a familiar male presence fills me and somehow, I know it’s Baler at my back. I don’t flinch or try to pull away from him, but rather just the opposite, I press back into him. My back against his front and my head resting on his chest. Images from earlier replay in my mind. This pull and comfort I feel with Baler finally makes sense to me. An echo of a subdued voice in my head that I always thought was just my conscience repeats one word, the same as earlier. Mate. A gasp escapes me as realization dawns on me.
Baler uses his hold on my shoulders to turn me in his arms. His hands slide up to cup my face and his thumbs brush tears from my cheeks. “Grace, what’s wrong?”
“She’s in my head. She’s always been there deep down, trying to break free. I always thought it was just my conscience. How could I have not known?” At this point, I can’t stop myself as I continue to spill every thought. “She’s been trying to tell me, trying to push me to you. She knows who you are.”
“Who am I? What do you mean, Grace?”
Before I can continue, his lips are on mine, tentative at first as if to gauge my reaction. Slowly, I slide my hands up his sides, gripping tightly onto his tunic in a desperate hope of grounding myself, or maybe just to pull him closer. I’m really not sure which. He takes the invitation, pushing in to deepen the kiss. His tongue comes out to trace my lips and soon he’s plunging inside my hungry mouth, tracing behind my teeth and pulling my mouth closer.
It’s no longer a gentle tentative first kiss; it's savage and needy. It’s teeth clashing and tongues tangling. It's want and need. Desperation begging to be fulfilled. It’s life-past, present, and future-melding together through one hungry act.
My world begins to spin under the onslaught of need and desire, craving the man in front of me. If he hadn’t been holding onto me, I would have fallen on my ass by now.
Breaking the kiss, we’re both heaving for breath. His pupils are blown wide with need and want for me. I’m sure mine reflects the same things.
Still cupping my face, he rests his forehead against mine as he whispers into the scant space between us, “Grace.”
“Baler, I...” I am at a complete loss for words. What do you say after something like that? Do you say anything? I feel like the virgin Mary at this moment, unsure of how to talk to the angel standing before her, announcing her fate.
Here stands my angel, my fated mate, my future, and I’m utterly dumbstruck for words.
Closing my eyes, I just stand there, my hands fisted in Baler’s tunic, his head resting against mine. I soak in his scent, his comforting presence. “We need to get you ready, Grace. We’ll talk about what all this means after.” Baler’s forehead leaves mine only, to be replaced with his lips. He presses a kiss to my forehead before releasing me completely. I immediately miss the feel of his hands on my face, the warmth of his touch, his breath, his lips.
Death's Gift: Norse Blessed Book One Page 4
