“Brit, Aya, now,” Kirby screamed. Bullets and spears flew at Gluskab.
His roars of pain and fury threatened to split her eardrums. He collapsed, body far outside the circle.
Silence blanketed the cave. No more screams or glow or sounds of battle. There was nothing.
“Gross,” Magnus muttered as Gluskab’s body shriveled to a husk.
The chanting resumed, but in Lance’s dragon voice, echoing in everyone’s thoughts. The quakes resumed, and the near-blinding glow was back.
“She can’t get free. If her brother wreaked havoc on the world in just a few days, and he was the sane one...” Everyone knew how critical this was, but Kirby had to drive home the point.
Deep fissures ran along the ground. The exhaustion on everyone’s faces reflected Kirby’s. Rapid healing didn’t matter if they wore themselves out taking hits from Lance and not doing any damage in return.
But they had done damage. Starkad had caught Lance off guard.
“There has to be a reason he’s afraid of you. A lot of people will be on both sides for Ragnarök,” Fen said.
Kirby shook her head. “I haven’t been able to get close enough. I need a way to pin...” She trailed off as pieces clicked in her mind. “If Lance can pin us in place with a shield, Magnus and I should be able to do the same, especially if we work together,” Kirby spoke quickly and quietly. “Coordinated attack, all of us. I’ll break off last minute.”
Everyone nodded.
Starkad and Fen darted in front of Lance, while Kirby and Magnus lingered against the outside wall, overlapping magical shields pressing in on their target, rather than surrounding them.
Lance swiped at Starkad, but hit an invisible wall.
“Press harder,” Kirby said. It took an extra layer of focus, but she worked the shield into a net, leaving openings for projectiles to get through, but not enough room for Lance to move.
Brit fired one round after another, and Aya did the same with her spears.
The ground split open under Kirby, and an aura of madness licked at her senses.
Starkad and Fen crossed and came back in from opposite sides, striking Lance and splitting the dragon’s focus.
Now or never.
Kirby rose into the air, dropping her portion of the shield at the last moment, before slicing down at Lance’s neck. Her sword cut from shoulder to hip.
Lance howled in agony. The sound was ear-splitting and soul rending.
The ground stopped shaking. The madness evaporated. Silence settled in again.
A faint thank you filled the air, and Lance vanished in a gust of sparks and glittering dust.
“Is he dead?” Brit asked softly.
“I don’t think anyone’s ever seen a dragon die.” Fen’s voice was in their heads, as Lance’s had been.
A single sheet of parchment fluttered to the ground, landing at Kirby’s feet as she touched down. She picked it up, and it took her mind a moment to adjust to the ancient language. This wasn’t a pretty poem, it was a short tale of a Valkyrie who slayed a dragon.
A bittersweet pit welled in her chest. “Beholden to their own visions until the very end.” Kirby feels bittersweet about the whole thing. “Let’s go home.”
The group appeared in the middle of NEON, exhaustion gnawing at Kirby all the way to her core. Her clothes were torn—magical armor hadn’t stopped fabric from being shredded any more than it prevented the now-healed wounds underneath. But they’d done it.
“You’re all back.” Dahlia’s squeal was sunshine in the darkly painted room. She wrapped Magnus in a tight hug.
Frey embraced Aya, who woodenly returned the gesture.
Gwydion pressed into Kirby’s back, wrapped his arms around her waist, and rested his forehead against her skull. She didn’t need to hear words to understand the meaning. She was so grateful to be here.
Min stepped in front of her, rested a hand at the base of her neck, and kissed her deeply. Possessively. Lovingly. “Welcome back.”
“Feel left out at all?” Fen asked.
Kirby glanced past Min to see Starkad shake his head. “Nope. None of you assholes get to see the celebration I have planned.
Heat flooded Kirby at the implication, and she grinned.
“We heard from the others,” Dahlia said. “One of the other gods called Frey as soon as they were out, to ask if Aya made it back. We were worried when you didn’t.”
“I wasn’t.” Min’s words were soft against Kirby’s lips. “I knew you had things under control.”
Gwydion snorted with amusement. “He was terrified.”
Min raised an eyebrow. “I was deeply concerned.”
Aya broke away and approached Kirby. “Thank you. You didn’t have to come for me, and I realize you would have stepped in regardless of being coerced into it, and regardless of the risk to your own life.”
“To be fair,” Frey said, “if any one of you had been in a situation you considered as big a threat, you would’ve done what you needed to, in order to secure help.”
Kirby couldn’t argue that.
“I seem to remember we did make a similar request. With Hel.” Starkad’s tone was hard.
Aya kept her gaze on Kirby. “I’m sorry. I wanted to help. I would’ve given you what you requested, if I’d had any choice. I’m grateful you were able to do more. Someday, I hope to return the favor.”
“I don’t trade in favors,” Kirby said. “It’s a nasty spiral.”
“But maybe be a little less insulting when you ask for help next time.” Brit glared at Frey and Fen.
Aya turned to her. “I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced.”
Brit gave her a short bow. “Brit. World unrenowned assassin and bad ass immortal, even without super-powers.”
Kirby couldn’t fight her grin. She loved seeing Brit own her strengths.
“But that’s not true, is it?” Aya studied Brit.
Seriously? Irritation surged through Kirby.
Aya cast her gaze around the room. “In fact, the group of you are a fascinating dichotomy, woven so tightly with fate and love and magic and defiance that it radiates from you. Potently when you’re all together. I can’t believe Frey didn’t see it.”
“I did. But you were more important than explaining it to them.”
“Excuse me.” Kirby let irritation bleed into her voice. “You don’t get to insult Brit like that then move on like it never happened.”
Aya looked surprised. “It wasn’t an insult. Brit, has no one told you what you are? What gifts you have?”
What?
Brit flexed her fingers and rolled her shoulder blades. “I’ve been trying to shoot fire at people, but it’s not working. Is that a trick you can teach me?” She was sarcastic.
Aya sighed. “The others forget, because it’s been so long and was outside of their realm. Odin’s Valkyries accompanied fallen warriors to Valhalla, but it was my privilege to choose one-half of the heroes slain in battle for my great hall in the Fólkvangar.”
“I didn’t forget. I just...” Suddenly it’s been a few lives didn’t seem like a good excuse to Kirby. She’d totally forgotten.
“Odin had an entire army of battle maidens to do his bidding.” Aya grasped Brit’s fingers and looked her in the eye. “I did the choosing with the help of one or two others. History calls them Valkyries as well, but they were unique. Like the Valkyries, they all vanished, and I’ve never met anyone worthy and capable of carrying the mantle. Until you. You do have power. The power to shatter bonds. To bolster the fallen. To stand for those warriors who get overlooked because they’re not clubbing people over the head for glory.”
“I’ve never used a club,” Starkad said.
Kirby elbowed him.
Aya shook her head, but her attention stayed on Brit. “In the coming battles, I’d be honored if you’d assist me.”
“I swore I’d never work for a god again.” There was no apology in Brit’s tone.
; “Think of it more as a partnership.”
The corner of Brit’s mouth tugged up. “I may be more amenable to that.”
“Yay.” Dahlia squealed with happiness and clapped.
Her joy mirrored Kirby’s. Brit deserved this.
Aya stepped behind the bar and grabbed a bottle from the top shelf. “Let’s celebrate. A victory. A partnership. Old and new friends.”
Honestly, Kirby just wanted to sleep for a week. She needed to burn off a little adrenaline first, but drinking with a group wouldn’t do that.
“I think we’re going to take a raincheck, and head home,” Gwydion said.
Kirby was pretty sure the only home she knew had been destroyed. Not that she was going to miss the imitation of suburbia that she and Starkad had lived.
“Yours?” Min asked.
Gwydion nodded.
Oh.
Brit wrinkled her nose. “I always pictured you as more of a vagrant type.”
“I prefer the term nomad, but I do actually have a house.”
House was an understatement. “Is it still...?” How much should Kirby say? It shouldn’t be a secret, but if no one here knew about it, maybe he preferred to keep things under wraps.
“Castle big enough for at least five,” Gwydion confirmed.
“You own a fucking castle.” Dahlia probably meant her tone to be flat, but the awe was evident.
Magnus sighed. “Of course he does.”
“But how the hell did he hide that from me?” Dahlia asked. “Not that I was stalking you or anything. I mean, I kind of was, but... How did you hide a castle?”
Built it centuries before computers existed, and never transfer ownership.
Gwydion smirked. “It’s what I do. How ‘bout a ride, love?” His question was spoken in a heavy brogue.
“Ugh.” Magnus sounded disgusted. “Do you have to make it sound dirty?”
Kirby laughed. “That’s also what he does. But we could use a lift, please?”
Magnus bowed. “Anything for you, boss.”
As Kirby gathered into a small group with her lovers—her new family—and took Magnus’s hand, contentment blanketed them. A decade ago, even a year ago, she never thought she’d have this kind of peace. It was incredible.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Kirby
The outside of the castle was exactly as Kirby remembered, from hundreds of years ago.
The inside was a completely different world, visually. Gwydion had modernized the place with windows, rugs, heated floors, and comfortable furniture.
“There’s no dust in here.” Brit trailed her finger along a nearby table. “Magic?”
Gwydion shook his head. “Grounds crew. Grand tour starts upstairs, if you’d all like to join me.”
He led them to the hallway where the rooms had been, once upon a time, and swung open the door to the one he and Kirby had shared.
Her heart skipped when she took in the décor. Trinkets from her previous lives. Gifts from each of her loves, from her various lives. And in the center of it all was the most ridiculously large bed she’d ever seen, as though someone had shoved two queen-sized mattresses together.
“Your room,” Gwydion said to her.
Kirby suspected it would become everyone’s room, unless someone needed privacy. She moved inside, tentative at first, unsure where to focus. There was a locket from France. A figurine from Russia. A dagger, similar to the one she wore from her first life, but more ornate and less made for battle.
Starkad stepped in front of her, wicked smirk dancing on his face. “I think we should test out the bed.” He nipped at her bottom lip and nudged her back with his full body, until she collided with Min.
She remembered this—the lust that came with a battle. Before. After. Anytime a fight was involved.
Starkad’s kisses were hungry as he sucked along her jaw and widened the tears in her shirt. He dragged his tongue over fresh scars left by magical wounds, devouring her as though each of her gasps was more fuel for his need.
This wasn’t the same as her first life, though. Not only because Min stood behind her, tracing his fingers along her spine, and kissing along the back of her neck.
Kirby had more now. More to look forward to. More responsibility. More love. She grinded into Min, her body molding tighter to his with each fresh kiss or lick or nip from Starkad, and desire flooded her senses.
She was intently aware that Gwydion and Brit were watching, which they both enjoyed.
Starkad drew his tongue along her collar bone, up her jaw, to nibble her earlobe. “Never thought I’d get to fuck royalty.”
Kirby flushed at the implication. She could accept the ability to make others like her, but wasn’t sure how she felt about the title Queen.
“He’s blind, then. I’ve always known you were meant to sit on a throne.” Min’s tone left no room for argument.
Kirby expected a sneer or other retort from Starkad.
Instead, he’d resumed tracing along the fresh, pale while lines that scarred her right bicep and shoulder. “This body is less than thirty years old. I can’t keep you safe, can I?”
“Not the way you’re talking about. Kind of surprised you’re still talking,” Kirby teased.
He held her gaze. “You’re complaining?”
“Making an observation.” She enjoyed the conversation, but this wasn’t like Starkad. Not when adrenaline was high and victory lingered on his tongue.
Starkad dragged a finger down the front of her shirt, easily slicing that and the bra underneath, without nicking her skin. “Let’s leave the observation to others.”
His kiss was reckless and sloppy, more concerned with happening than with form as the feeling wrapped her in abandon. He moved his hands to her breasts, kneading and pinching as he dropped his head to suck on one nipple.
Each nibble-laced circle of his tongue sent desire coiling through her. The cool air against her back said Min had moved away, but she was too focused on Starkad’s touch to linger on any other thoughts. Too consumed by pulling his mouth back to hers... Stripping off his shirt and shoving his jeans to the ground... Pressing her bare chest into his... Dragging her nails up his back.
Starkad gripped her hips and lifted. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, lost in kisses and passion and raw need.
He turned and in a controlled fall, landed on the bed, Kirby still tangled around him. His erection pressed through the thin fabric of her leggings, teasing her already damp core. She needed to wear these more often.
Starkad kept his mouth pressed to her lips, her collarbone, her chest, and back to her mouth, as he scooted them back on the mattress. He fell to his elbows. The way he raked his gaze over her flooded her with heat. He pressed his thumb into the seam of her leggings, teasing her clit through the stretchy fabric, until she was grinding and moaning.
A sharp rip filled the air when Starkad ripped the leggings apart, exposing her and leaving her bare pussy to rest against his cock. She rocked her hips, back and forth, slipping easily along his length and teasing them both.
The mattress shifted when a now-naked Gwydion knelt next to them. He gripped her chin and slanted his mouth over hers, swallowing her gasps of mounting pleasure.
A mouth wrapped around Kirby’s nipple. Brit had joined them as well, on the other side, and was focused intently on sucking along Kirby’s chest. So much for the two of them being content to watch.
Not that she was complaining.
Brit rested a palm on Kirby’s cheek, drawing her attention from Gwydion to lay a series of soft kisses along her lips.
The air around them was charged with a tangible, delicious desire than flitted over and through Kirby. She wanted to lose herself in the wash sensations, but at the same time she didn’t miss any. Each new caress demanded savoring.
Starkad dug his fingers into her hips and lifted her. When he penetrated her, his, “fuuuuck,” mingled with her groan. Gods, he felt incredible, buried i
nside her.
Gwydion stole her mouth again, knotting his fingers in her hair and holding her captive, as Brit slid her fingers down Kirby’s stomach, to tease her clit.
Starkad was still inside her, except for the occasionally twitch of his cock, but he gripped her thighs tightly enough to leave marks.
Kirby broke away from Gwydion to lean in over Starkad, and brush her lips up his chest. She clenched around him, to tease, and met his gaze, bottom lip caught between her teeth. “Wearing you out?”
“Testing my limits,” he growled. “I want this to last, but I won’t much longer.” With his palm on her chest, he pushed her upright again, driving himself deeper inside her.
Brit crushed her mouth to Kirby’s and pressed harder into her clit, while Gwydion teased her breasts. With Starkad buried in her, orgasm sped up on Kirby, pushing out the rest of the world, and reducing her thoughts into Gods, this feels good.
Min kissed up her back, and bit her shoulder. The stimulation from so many places was too much. Kirby plummeted into climax, losing herself in everything, milking Starkad.
He gripped her tighter.
Brit brought her fingers up to suck them clean, pressing them between her lips and Kirby’s, sharing the taste and twisting their tongues together. Brit finally broke away with a sigh and a light smile. “I’m going to step back.” Her voice was breathy. “I may not be interested in fucking any of them, but I do like watching you.”
Another layer of want wrapped around Kirby. She enjoyed being on display. The confirmation that it was mutually beneficial made the moment even better.
Starkad rolled, and Kirby squealed in surprise. He pinned her arms above her head. His expression was hungry, almost feral, and so enticing. He released her wrists, straightened, and pushed her thighs to her chest. There was a desperation to his pounding, his groans becoming punctuated grunts, and then a drawn-out howl when he came, spilling inside her.
Though Starkad slowed to a less frantic pace, the intensity didn’t ease up as Gwydion still worked his touch over her, tweaking and pulling in all the right places.
Kirby needed more. Of him. Of Min. She reached for Gwydion’s cock. “I want to taste you. Please.” She pouted for effect.
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