Valkyrie soul, p.1
Valkyrie Soul, page 1
Valkyrie Soul
Nichole Rose
Copyright © 2024 by Nichole Rose
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
Cover by Yoly at Cormar Designs
Contents
Content Advisory
Prophecy of the Valkyrie
Glossary of Common Terms
About the Book
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Author's Note
Valkyrie Bound Series
Follow Nichole
Nichole's Book Beauties
Also by Nichole Rose
About Nichole Rose
Content Advisory
This book addresses dark subject matter (including graphic scenes of violence) that may not be suitable for all readers.
Prophecy of the Valkyrie
"In a realm of shadows, five shall emerge, each carrying the sacred gifts bestowed by their foremothers. As they step into the light, the echoes of time will guide their way, revealing what once was lost. The Exiled, weary and burdened, shall embark on a perilous quest to restore honor for the Halls. Yet, a cautionary whisper resonates: tread carefully in the presence of the Forsaken. If the sisters falter, a torrent of great evil will engulf the realms, casting them into an eternal night."
-Prophecy of the Valkyrie
Glossary of Common Terms
This book includes some words in Old Norse, Swedish, Norwegian, and Icelandic, the languages of the Nothern people whose beliefs, myths, and stories are woven throughout this series. Some of the those commonly used throughout the series can be found below.
ja - Yes/Yeah
nei – no
lyststål – lightsword
Magn – Source of Fae power. Literally, power or force.
ímun-laukr – sword
seiðr - visionary magic
Álfheimr – home of the Fae
helvete - hell
skíta - shit
faen - fuck
níðingr – insult meaning cowardly, dishonorable person
eselballer – donkey balls
saurigr skítkarl – dirty bastard
ást-meer - sweetheart
hjartað mitt - my heart
solsken - sunshine
ljós – light
elskan-ljós - Beloved light
bittesmå ljós - tiny light
lyseste ljós – brightest
ljúfr - beloved
hermaðr - warrior
formaðr - king/leader
konung-ligr - royal
konunga-kyn - royal kin
helveteshundar- hellhounds
varulv – werewolf/wolf
Alt du gjør er gjort i kjærlighet – Everything you do, you do in love.
Du er i min verden – You are my world.
Hundre riker ville være for få til å inneholde min kjærlighet til deg – A hundred kingdoms aren't enough to contain my love for you.
About the Book
Damrion
For millennia, I've lived with the shame of regret and the guilt of loss. The last Fae prince, haunted by decisions I can't take back. I never imagined I’d be given a second chance. I know I don't deserve it. I'll never be worthy. But my heart beats for the broken warrior who believes I left him to die and the young Valkyrie whose soul we were sent to guard.
To protect her and earn his forgiveness, I'll face what I've done. I'll face anything.
Adriel
For millennia, I've lived with pain and anger, haunted by everything I've lost. After what he did to us, I locked my heart behind walls, vowing to guard it above all things. But that was before she came into our lives and made it beat again. She's the Light in the dark, the only thing in this realm capable of giving me hope and bringing us peace.
For her, I'll learn to forgive. I'll let go of the past. And I'll let him back into my heart. Even if it kills me.
Abigail
For years, I've dreamed of the two Fae meant to change my life. I've seen them in nearly every vision that's haunted my mind. But I never expected to love them this fiercely. I'll do anything to bring them peace. But I never imagined we'd be tested like this.
What Fate wants from us is terrifying. And if I can't heal what's broken between them, everything is lost. I'll damn us all. Destroy us all.
I can't let that happen. Not to them. Not ever.
I won't be a tool for the Dark. I won't betray them. And I will never give up on them. Not when my soul belongs to them and them alone.
Prologue
Damrion
Álfheimr, 2500 Years Ago
A thick haze of acrid smoke and gray ash hangs over Álfheimr, choking the life out of our world. I cough as it billows in black clouds from fires raging all over the realm that birthed the Fae. From my vantage point on the battlements of the castle, I see the red glow far below. It’s as if the Jötunn set the entire world on fire.
I pace back and forth, my footsteps echoing against the crumbling remains of our once-legendary castle. The screams of the dead and the dying float up from the haze below, threatening to break me in a way nothing ever has.
My world is dying.
Surt and his Giants have laid waste to it, their fury merciless. We’re on the verge of losing everything, but I refuse to let it fall without a fight.
I owe our people this much. It shouldn’t be my choice. I wasn’t meant to lead. My duty is to Valhalla and the oaths I swore to protect her borders. But word arrived days ago that I’m the last remaining royal.
Álfheimr has no one else.
My heart aches with the weight of loss. The conflict has claimed everyone I love.
Nei, not everyone.
I clench my fists, my nails biting into my palms as Adriel’s face floats to the surface of my mind. He’s still out there. He’s still fighting.
Gods, Adriel.
His lips are on mine, his hands tangled in my hair. His kiss is urgent, desperate, as though he's trying to convey a thousand unspoken words.
I respond with the same urgency, clutching him to me. His taste is intoxicating, his scent overwhelmingly familiar. It’s the only comfort left these days.
He’s my only peace. I just wish I would have been strong enough to reach for him long before this fucking war started.
All that time wasted...
“Damrion,” he groans, writhing against me as I wrap my hand around his erection. “Fuck.”
A powerful knock on the door shatters the moment like glass hitting stone.
I wrench myself from his arms, my heart hammering against my ribcage. In two steps, I’m on the opposite side of the chamber, my back to him.
“Enter!” I shout.
Burion hurries into the room, rivulets of blood running down his face. They stain his hands. His eyes are wild as they meet mine.
"The Eastern Regiment..." he gasps, panting as if he ran the entire way here. "Under attack. Outnumbered by thousands."
Faen.
If the Eastern Regiment falls, Álfheimr falls. They’re our last line of defense.
“Thank you. Get yourself to the Valkyrie and rest. I’ll send word to the generals.”
How many of our generals even still live?
Burion nods and stumbles out, leaving behind an oppressive silence.
I turn back to Adriel, a weight on my heart. It only grows when I see his face. The fire in his eyes has winked out, replaced by a chilling emptiness. And I know it has nothing to do with the news Burion brought.
This is my doing.
“Adriel, I—”
"I'm going," he says suddenly, his voice devoid of emotion.
My heart clenches.
"Adriel, wait." I reach for him but he steps back, his face set in an icy glare. “You don't owe us anything else. You’ve done enough."
He’s been unstoppable since the war began, one of our most deadly warriors. If history remembers us at all, it’ll be this Fae and his Light they immortalize.
"This isn't about owing, Damrion." A bitter smile twists his lips as he shakes his head at me. "It's about fighting for our world. For our people. So long as there’s a need, I’ll fight.” Disappointment flows through his black eyes before his expression goes blank. “Until just now, I thought perhaps I was fighting for us, too.”
“Adriel.”
He strides toward the door, not looking at me.
Faen.
“Adriel, please. Let’s talk about this.”
"Nei, Damrion. I won’t be your hidden shame or your dirty fucking secret. If that’s all you want from me, there’s nothing to talk about.”
The door slams shut behind him, leaving me to grapple with his words in the deafening silence. Is that what he thinks he is to me?
I collapse onto a nearby chair, a wave of guilt washing over me. He’s right. I have treated him like a dirty secret. Since he kissed me for the first time after Ljósál fell a fortnight ago, we’ve met only in secret. I hold him, touch him, kiss him, only when we’re alone.
<
Our moments together are stolen from beneath the blade of a sword and the threat of looming destruction. He’s the Light in this Gods-forsaken war.
And I don't know how to save us.
Our argument still echoes in my mind, tormenting me. It’s a chasm between us, one we can’t even bridge because he hasn’t returned. He's out there now, battling the surging tide of Jötunn threatening to engulf us all.
He thinks I’m ashamed of the way I feel about him.
Gods. How could I have let it come to that?
There hasn’t been a single moment since this Gods-forsaken war when having him in my arms has shamed me. If I fall with Álfheimr, I’ll fall with him in my heart.
Footsteps sound behind me.
I whirl around to find Dax standing before me, weary and covered in blood. His grim expression is a hot blade right into my stomach.
"Tell me," I demand, my voice strained.
He hesitates for a moment, seeming to gather his thoughts. His silence only fuels the panic beating at me.
"Speak, damn you!" I growl.
"The Eastern Regiment is gone, Damrion," he finally says, his voice a painful rasp. "By the time Malachi and I arrived, everyone was dead or captured."
Nei. If we've lost the Eastern Regiment, our chances of survival are all but gone. Álfheimr is going to fall, and the Fae will fall with it.
"Adriel," I whisper, his name a plea on my lips. Fear claws at my insides, threatening to tear me apart. "He was with the Eastern Regiment, Dax. He left two days ago. Tell me he got out. Tell me he's alive, damn you."
Dax meets my gaze, but the sorrow in his eyes offers no comfort. “We searched, Damrion,” he says quietly. “There were no survivors.”
Gods. He’s gone.
Adriel is gone.
My world shatters in an instant, fragments of hope falling into darkness.
Grief and pain crash over me in tidal waves of agony. My legs wobble beneath me, threatening to give way. I grasp at the wall behind me, trying to keep myself upright.
"We have to go. I have to go," I mutter, though even I hear the painful desperation in my voice.
"Damrion." Dax reaches out, gripping my arm tightly. His touch is both grounding and suffocating.
"Release me, Dax," I growl, a feral edge to my voice that surprises even me. I yank my arm free of his hold.
"Damrion," he repeats, his voice soft. “The Fae are dying. You have to empty the city. You’re the only one left who can issue the order. We can’t lose you, too.”
Nei. I have to go. I have to…
My knees buckle, and I crumble to the floor, my stomach twisting into knots.
Memories of Adriel flood my mind—the way he would growl my name when he kissed me, the sound of his moans when I was deep inside him. The look of disappointment in his eyes when he stormed out.
He never should have been out there. He went because of me.
And because of me, he’s dead.
I lean forward, bile rising in my throat as I choke on Adriel's name. My vision blurs with tears as I vomit. The fucking air feels like it’s trying to suffocate me. The acrid smell of smoke and death clings to everything around me, as if to remind me of everything I’ve lost.
"Damrion," Dax murmurs, concern ringing in his voice as he kneels beside me. "You need to breathe."
But breathing only brings more pain and the crushing weight of guilt. Adriel is dead, and it’s my fault. I was so fucking afraid to love him openly, afraid it would consume me whole and everyone would see what I already knew: I wasn’t worthy of him. He’s always been the best of us. And I’ve been handed everything simply by place of birth.
Now, I’ve lost him anyway. I’ve lost everything.
Agony rips through me, tearing at every fiber of my being.
“Get out.”
“Damr—”
“Get the fuck out, Dax.”
He sighs quietly, but he doesn’t argue with me. His footsteps retreat across the battlements before fading entirely.
"Adriel," I whisper, a prayer to whatever Gods might still be listening as tears pour down my cheeks. "Not dead. Please, not dead."
But if any of the Gods still live, they aren’t answering. Not my prayers. Not today. I’ve used up every last one I have trying to save the Fae.
Adriel is gone.
And I never even told him that I love him.
Chapter One
Abigail
Seattle, Now
I know I’m dreaming. I always do when the nightmares and the visions come. But I drown in them anyway, tossed like a buoy from one violent scene to the next with nothing to anchor me. This one might be the worst.
A scream rips from my throat as one of the Forsaken—a soulless monster with pale skin and a misshapen mouth—reaches out, grasping the young Valkyrie in front of him around the throat. Her dark hair whips around her face, her dark eyes widening with terror as he lifts her from the floor. Her feet scrabble for purchase on the old church floor, her nails digging into the pale flesh of his arm as she struggles to breathe, fighting to free herself.
But it’s useless.
With a vicious snarl, the Forsaken flings her across the room. Her body sails through the air before striking the wall with a sickening crunch.
I feel the life draining out of her as she crumples to the floor, pale and still.
I cry out in terror, desperately trying to reach her. But I have no body here. There’s nothing I can do. I’m simply a watcher, forced to witness these atrocities, unable to act to stop them.
This is my hell.
The scene flickers like the shutter of a camera as it changes. Forsaken spread throughout a church, polluting it with their corrupt magic. The Valkyrie lies crumpled on the floor. The Fae race through the dark streets of Seattle.
My mind spins wildly as one tiny glimmer after another flows through me, brought by some seiðr magic—seer magic—no one, not even the Fae, understands.
I see thousands of snapshots in these moments, paths we might take, things that might come to pass. Not all are certain. What we do moment to moment dictates how the Norns weave the tapestry.
But the strongest visions? Those are all but guaranteed. They will happen. Unless we force them to change.
Another flicker and a vision solidifies. This one is certain, then.
Eitr is overrun, the Forsaken and varulv flooding the streets. Their dark magic and evil pollute everything.
I get pulled into a cabin in the heart of Eitr.
My heart clenches when I see Tori tied to a chair. Her vibrant energy slowly fades as she struggles weakly against her bonds, tears mixing with the red stains on her cheeks until it looks almost as if she cries blood.
Reaper lies on the floor at her feet, a gaping hole in his chest. Even in death, he reaches for her, one hand extended as if, in his final moments, he sought to comfort her.
Outside, screams grow louder—the screams of the Fae. They’re dying.
Damrion. Adriel.
No. Gods, no.
Horror and defiance well up inside me, screaming in fury. But it’s too late to save them. I feel them slipping away—the biggest parts of my soul being torn from me as they fade.
I scream in agony. In torment.
The scene flickers again, changing.
I stare down at myself this time. A Forsaken in jeans and a hoodie looms over me in the kitchen at the safehouse in Washington—the same one where my sleeping body lies right now. Injured warriors litter the ground. Others are held back by dark flows of magic. The Forsaken is speaking to me, though I can’t make out the words. He points at a rippling black shadow in the corner.
A portal, corrupted by their evil magic.
“If I let you take me in their place, you’ll let Tori and the other Valkyrie live? You won’t harm the Fae?”
The Forsaken nods.
Tears run down my cheeks as I nod and stumble toward the portal. I don’t fight him. I don’t try to get away. To my horror, I go willingly, letting him guide me into the corrupt portal.
