by Angel Lawson
“We all got to the temple at different times and were given instructions to get to the City of Dis. I figured we’d meet up on the battlefield. I had no idea I was going to get caught up in a trap I couldn’t get out of.” He leans forward until our faces are inches apart. “We’ll find them.”
“I know we will.”
“I should have known my version of hell would be losing you.” His hand moves behind my neck, pulling me close. A rush of heat warms my body and his lips brush mine.
“I thought of you every minute, every second that I was caught in that place. The emotions I felt when you walked into that arena at the Academy flooded me over and over. Absolute terror and fear that I’d lose you. I watched you die, Hildi, or almost. I watched the God of Death carry you away. I watched Victorine and Roland open the temple and then, just when I planned to get my revenge, I got caught in the loop of living that terrible day over and over again.”
His lips blaze across my cheek, my jaw and then my neck. I feel the power of his want—his affection. His hands cinch around my waist and he lifts me up, dragging me over his waist until I’m straddling his hips. Running my fingers down his chest, they roam over the hard muscle to the soft hair of his lower belly. Like everything else about Armin, he’s a mixture of steel and velvet. Powerful, yet loving. Determined, but loyal. I knew that he would have stayed in that circle of hell for the rest of his life, fighting for me over and over, refusing to stop until he got me back.
I take his hand and kiss the ring.
“You proved yourself today. Proved your love and loyalty to the gods, to the kings of the Lowerworld.”
“I don’t care what they think.”
“You proved yourself to me too—that’s why I put on the ring—that’s why it snapped you out of that place. You belong to me.”
“And I to you, Valkyrie. From the moment our paths crossed.” His fingers tug at the laces on the front of my vest.
“Take me,” I whisper. “Claim me.”
He rolls me over, the sheet falling to the side. He’s bare, hard, as if he’d just been waiting for me to ask. This is a man who would slay a dragon to protect me, yet seeks my permission to touch me. It’s not out of fear but respect. I love this man, through and through. Ring or no ring.
The sides of my vest fall, exposing my skin to the cool air of the room. He kisses my chest, between my beasts, down my belly. With extreme patience, he unties the laces of my leather pants, fingers grazing the sensitive flesh of my lower stomach, before peeling them down my legs and over my feet. He stands at the end of the bed, eyeing me with such wonder, such desire, that my skin prickles.
Armin is the steadiest of my Immortal lovers, the one I saved from isolation and loneliness. But he saved me too, giving me someone to love and care for during my grief. He wasn’t just a plaything like Marshal—he’s always been real. I value his love, his friendship, his brain and his brawn. He gathers my foot, kissing the top, then my ankles. He travels up my body, sucking skin, creating warm ripples of want. The closer he gets, the more every nerve in my body, my mind, my soul, my heart, pound in unison.
“Please,” I beg, writhing on the bed. I needed to feel him inside. The instant he put on the ring, the cord between us tightened. Damien managed to harness the feelings we had for one another, for the energy created from the Gods, fate and destiny, in one tiny band of silver. But there’s something more—a seal that needs to be stamped. I feel it like fire licking at my neck.
His mouth covers mine and I breathe him in, tasting his tongue and running my nails down the curve of his arms. Energy hums between us, and I wrap my legs around his body, wanting him close, wanting him in me. Armin, a man used to waiting, wants me panting, begging. His knuckles graze my nipple, and his fingers dips between my legs. I’m already weak and shuddering, halfway over the edge when he finally, finally, pushes my knees apart and teases me with the tip of his cock. His tightening jaw is a signal just before he drives in, forcing the air from my chest.
Armin’s eyes hold mine as he moves in me, and I rake my nails down his back. The cord pulls taut, and I hold on as the bed rattles and shakes under the tremendous force of his movements.
We’d done this before—many times. Armin had been my solace—my steady place—while surviving in the Academy, while dealing with the grief and loss of Andi. This was different. This was two lovers bonded for real, soul to soul, body to body.
“Never, ever leave me again,” he says, mouth hovering over mine. “We’ll get through this, Hildi, and find our happiness on the other side. Build a house like the Nead. Create our own family, our own destiny.”
The words are mesmerizing, enchanting, and as he winds me closer to release, I can see all the things he wants, things I never knew I wanted. The house. The family. The future. I don’t know if it’s the magic of the bond or just the desire for something normal—our normal—that I let myself embrace the idea as tightly as my body embraces him with the shudder of my orgasm.
“I won’t,” I say, the words caught in my throat. “Promise me the same.” His jaw tightens and his face pinches, and he groans, slamming into me one final time. Our bodies are sticky with sweat, keeping us glued together as I hold his eye. “Promise me, Armin.”
“I promise.”
He seals it with a kiss and I curl into him. I know it may be a long time before we get a chance to be alone again like this, and I’m going to enjoy it while it lasts.
10
Hildi
I wake to the weight of Armin’s arm slung protectively over my stomach, his face nuzzled in my neck and his body curled around mine. After we made love, we discovered that our dinner had been delivered and was waiting, covered, outside the door. Maybe it was a testament to my hunger, but hellrabbit stew wasn’t nearly as bad as it sounded. Actually, it was pretty good. With warm food in my belly and my lover safe next to me, I’d dozed off quickly.
It was the best sleep I’d had in ages.
If I could stay here all day—for eternity—I would, but something tells me the gods won’t allow that. I suspect if we linger, the little village will start to deconstruct just like the Academy. The gods want all the players in the game. The only way out is dead.
Armin isn’t the only lover I need to find. Rupert, Miya, and Agis are never far from my mind. After experiencing the arena firsthand, I fear for whatever tortures Lucifer has set up for them.
Slowly, I extract myself, sliding out from under his arm and away from the warm heat of his body. Quietly I make my way to the bathroom, grabbing my clothes. I wash with speed—the air too cold to dawdle. When I walk out, tying the string of my pants, I find Armin, half-dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“How’d you sleep?” I ask, knowing it’s always a struggle for him.
“Like a rock.”
I fuss with the holster that holds my blade around my thigh while walking over to the bed. Armin catches my hip with his large hand and pulls me closer. He takes the leather straps from me, expertly buckling me in. His fingers graze my inner thighs and a flicker of the heat we shared the night before ignites in my veins. He finishes and looks me in the eye. “Thank you for rescuing me.”
“You’re welcome, but it wasn’t just my doing.”
He picks up my left hand and kisses the knuckles. “Tell me about this ring.”
“Damien made it,” I reply. I take out the pouch and pour the rings in my hand. Four remain. Then I go into the whole story of Morgan visiting me and handing me the pouch. “She didn’t give me a lot of instructions, but it seemed pretty clear I’m supposed to give you each one.”
“Did you give one to Marshal.”
“Not yet.”
He tilts his head and a deep line mars his forehead. “Why?”
“Because I don’t trust him.” His fingers link with mine. “I know he’s part of this, but until…I don’t know, until I know for sure that he’s loyal to us, and the Guardians, I’m wary.”
“But you trust Morgan
, and she told you he’s part of this.”
“I know. I just feel like I need to play it safe. As long as he’s close, I can measure his loyalty. When the time is right, I can make a decision.” I tuck the pouch back in my pocket and then a memory flickers in my mind. I reach in the other vest pocket and pull out the small book.
“What’s that?” Armin asks.
“Gods, I forgot all about it in all the chaos and searching for you. Morgan gave this to me too—Dylan wrote it, apparently drawing primarily on Bunny and Sam’s ability to see into the future with their art.”
“Read it,” he says, shifting over to give me space to sit.
I open the book and at first glance the pages are empty, but a second later, the book fills with handwriting. I’ve seen the script before on documents in Dylan’s room. It’s his.
Armin and I read together and much of what we didn’t know falls into place.
Once the Immortals crossed into the Lowerworld, the gods separated them, sending them into different rings. This seems to be an innate understanding from the game-makers that the Legion and the Valkyrie should be kept apart to ensure that the apocalypse is fulfilled, spreading across realms.
Each Immortal is trapped in whatever circle pulls at their personal demons. It’s important that Hildi locate each Immortal, place the ring on their finger to bind them to her, and travel to the City of Dis. This will reinforce the power transferred from the Guardians, as you have taken our place. The rings will solidify your strength as a group, just as Morgan did when she united with us before the battle with the Morrigan.
I flip the page and wait for the ink to appear. It doesn’t. “And then what?” I ask. “What do we do at the City of Dis?”
“I guess they didn’t see that far ahead.”
I sigh and close the book. “I guess that answers the question about Marshal and why Morgan said we needed him. He gets a ring if I trust him or not.”
Armin’s hand circles my neck. “For what it’s worth, I think you can. I know he’s a petty, greedy egomaniac. But I’ve fought alongside him in many battles. He hasn’t let me down yet.”
“Except at the Academy.”
“It’s the outlier, which means he probably had an ulterior motive. We all knew it was a possibility.”
I nod. Armin is probably right. I allow my emotions to get in the way with Marshal. He makes my blood boil with anger and my belly to ignite with lustful desire. I find him distressingly appealing and also unworthy of my attention. But this isn’t about affection—it’s about winning this war, and if I need Marshal for that, I can do it.
“We should go tell the others what we learned.”
We finish dressing and check our allies’ rooms. They’re empty, and we head down to the dining area. Luke and Elizabeth alone sit at a table, empty bowls in front of them.
“Porridge,” Elizabeth says, wrinkling her nose. “Do you want some?”
“No. Where’s Marshal?” I ask, eager to see him. It’s time to settle this strife between us once and for all—especially before we enter the next circle.
“In his room?” Elizabeth asks, hands on her the coffee cup in front of her. “Is he not?”
I shake my head. “We looked.”
She and Luke exchange a look.
“What?” Armin asks, pouring himself a cup of the dark black liquid.
“After helping you take Armin upstairs last night,” Luke says, “he came back down in a pretty pissy mood. Drank the rest of the bar under the table and flirted with that waitress all night.”
My jaw clenches. Gods, he can’t go one fucking night.
Armin swallows his drink and heads to the stairs, saying, “Let me check again.”
We wait in uneasy apprehension until he returns with loud footsteps on the stairs. “He’s not in his room.” His eyes flick to mine. “It doesn’t look like he slept in his bed."
The waitress from the night before chooses that moment to walk through the swinging door that leads to the kitchen. I stride over and brace myself for the answers to the questions I’m about to ask. “Have you seen Marshal? Like, is he still in your bed?”
She gives me a wild look and then laughs. “As hard as I tried, that handsome one didn’t spend the night in my bed.”
Hmm.
“Then where did he go?”
“You’ve got me. I left him down here, passed out on the bar after closing. I figured he’d sleep it off and be here in the morning. He’s not in his room?”
“No. No sign he ever went in there,” Armin replies. He glances at Luke. “You say he was mad after coming downstairs?”
“Angry. Not sure if it was with himself or someone else.”
“A little of both,” the waitress answers. “Seems he feels the need to prove himself to someone—a woman, I reckon.”
Everyone in the room, including the waitress, looks in my direction.
“Hildi, did you and Marshal argue last night?” Armin asks.
“No more than usual,” I reply, but it’s not true. He’d asked about the rings, and I told him outright that I didn’t trust him, that I thought he was in it to save his hide. A traitor. I inhale deeply. “It’s possible I set him off.”
“Shit,” Luke mutters, rubbing his face. “So we’re down another ally.”
“We don’t know that he is an ally,” I snap back. “This may be proof that he isn’t.”
“Or proof that he is,” Elizabeth declares.
“We’re better off,” I say. “Taking off like this is exactly why I don’t trust him.” I look at my remaining allies. “Anyone else plan on betraying us? Because if you do, now is the time to do it.”
“Fuck no,” Elizabeth says, in a rare outburst of cursing. “I’ve finally found my people—my calling. The King and Queen of Talamh chose me for a reason. They’ve fought hard for my realm, and I’m not about to let them down.”
Luke’s fingers tap on the table. “I admit that sometimes the pull of darkness is strong, but my father made it clear that he doesn’t respect me because I’m a half-breed. He obviously didn’t think I’d make it this far—trust me, it’s not the demon in me that gives me strength. It’s the humanity that pulses through my veins.”
“Humans are notoriously stubborn,” I admit.
“I was human once.” Armin shrugs, and a small grin tugs at his perfect lips. “Camulus saw something in me that inspired confidence.”
A shudder ripples through the ground and Elizabeth and Luke glance at one another.
“It’s time to move,” Luke says.
Armin nods at me. “Hildi has some intel. She can share it on the road. One way or the other, I suspect we’ll stumble upon Marshal again—hopefully by then he’ll have made the right decision.”
A dark feeling spreads in my chest. I was given leadership of the Immortals for one reason—to keep them in line and command them through the apocalypse. One day in, and I’m separated from all but one, have one that I’ve possibly pushed back into enemy arms, and now we’ve got to save four of our allies before we can even get a shot at ending this.
Until now, I’d felt confident in my position, but as we gather our things and head back into the streets of Hell, the feeling of inadequacy is strong. Maybe Morgan was wrong, and I’m not the person for the job. Maybe Odin was right to kick me from the Valkyrie and remove my immortality.
Maybe Marshal chose the right side.
My biggest fear of all, though, isn’t one single thing, it’s that the realms will fall because of me--and that is a burden too big to bear.
11
Luke
I listen as Hildi explains the information written in the book from Dylan. Unfortunately, I’m not surprised that the Legion got sucked into different circles when they entered Hell. My father loves mind games and tormenting the souls that wander into his realm. The Legion, although impressive warriors, are filled with guilt and baggage from their years as soldiers and even more from their enslavement to Camulus. I’m sure my fath
er was quite pleased when they walked through the temple doors.
“What’s the next circle?” Elizabeth asks. Her hair is a bright pink and her eyes shine despite the dull sky overhead.
“Ah, one of my father’s favorites: lust.”
Armin stops in his tracks. “Lust. What does that even mean?”
“Orgies? Threesomes? Stripper poles?” Hildi asks with a smile on her face. “Lust can be good, you know.”
“As with everything, lust affects everyone differently. Some people give in to their desires yet have control. It’s not a big thing. Others struggle with it—are consumed by it. My father will choose the Immortal with the biggest weakness for the flesh and figure out how to torment him with it.”
Her mouth turns into a frown as she ponders this and walks ahead. I watch her go, trying to keep my expression level. It’s constant and continuous work. If anyone is going to be exposed for their weakness for lust, I’m a prime target. Why? Because the Valkyrie is getting to me—she’s gotten to me already. I’ve spent the last few months nursing a crush on Hildi. Too bad she only views me as a kid. It started during that damned childish game with Marielle when Hildi arrived at the Academy. I’d kissed her, and it’d sparked something I hadn’t been able to quench. Something I desperately tried to suppress. It’s obvious that she wasn’t interested and was being fulfilled, sexually and emotionally, by the greatest warriors in history. Beyond that? The last thing I need is one of the Legion coming after me.
Night falls quickly—too quickly, for a day that has just begun. As the sun vanished, the trees in the nearby forests shake with a powerful wind. Up ahead is a village—maybe bigger. Lights twinkle but it’s not inviting. Not when they’re behind an imposing wall, built like a fortress.
“Is that a storm coming?” Hildi asks, looking toward the sky. The faint outline of the sun can be seen beyond the clouds. Maybe it’s still daylight and the weather has shifted. But a strange feeling runs down my spine. Another gust blasts from the tree, this time followed by a howl. Wind or animal, I’m not sure.
