Page 79 of A Kingdom of Sand and Ice (Kingdom of Gods #2)

There are secrets I can never tell.

Some that I have even kept from Hadrian.

They would mean the end of everything.

Tabitha Wysteria

Kage was drawing close to the edge of his kingdom.

Bryn’s wolf, unwavering and resolute, had carried him across days and near-sleepless nights, pressing on without complaint.

In the distance, he could just discern the dark silhouette of a wyverian forest rising against the fading light.

The snow had long since melted away, replaced by rugged terrain and sparse patches of stubborn grass.

The wolf moved with less ease here, its steps more reluctant, its body less sure. It favoured the cold.

Above them, Spirox soared, gliding just ahead in quiet vigilance. No danger had stirred. No soul had crossed their path throughout the days of travel.

As twilight deepened, Kage dismounted and set about building a fire, his hands moving with familiar precision.

Behind him, the wolf and the crow appeared to engage in what resembled a conversation, muttered caws and rumbling huffs exchanged like secrets in the fading light.

With a frown, Kage shook his head and returned his focus to the flames.

He might have pushed on through the night, but to demand more from Bryn’s wolf would have bordered on cruelty.

Rest was necessary. Spirox had made that abundantly clear by pecking at Kage’s legs until he relented.

Both creatures turned sharply towards something unseen, their focus fixed on a point in the distance. Kage followed their gaze, but saw nothing, only dusk settling over rock and brush. With a huff, he sank down beside the fire, the wolf curling up nearby with a long, satisfied sigh.

The flames danced before his eyes, and Kage let his mind drift, carried on threads of thought he could no longer suppress. He wondered what Bryn was doing. If the wolverian prince missed him.

Of course not. They were barely even friends.

A faint blush crept across his cheeks, which he was quick to attribute to the fire’s warmth. It could be nothing else.

He made a silent vow to murder Wren the next time he saw her, wherever that might be. No doubt she was tangled in trouble of her own making, the reckless, cunning thing. Still, he hoped she was safe.

Inevitably, his thoughts turned to his siblings, and a quiet knot of worry settled in his belly, cold and unshakable. It was a small mercy, he supposed, that he hadn’t eaten since his departure.

Spirox let out a sharp caw at the very moment the wolf sprang to its feet, a low growl rumbling from its chest, fangs bared in warning.

Kage turned at once, frowning.

‘What are you doing here?’ he asked, blinking rapidly as if to clear away a mirage. But no, she was truly there, the firelight painting soft shadows across her familiar face .

Freya smiled as she approached the flames, extending her hands to warm them, the gesture casual and unhurried.

‘Charming greeting, Kage. I missed you too.’

‘I thought you’d gone with Wren.’ The thought twisted in his gut like a cold knife. ‘Is she safe?’

‘You really ought not worry so much. She’s perfectly fine.’

‘Then why are you here?’ His voice was quiet but wary, eyes darting about the empty wilderness that surrounded them. Spirox had retreated to a low branch and the wolf slunk a few steps back, unease rippling through the camp. Instinct pulled Kage to his feet, his body taut, every muscle on edge.

‘Sit, Kage,’ said the valkyrian with a calmness that irked him. She lowered herself by the fire as though it belonged to her, as though the night itself had summoned her. ‘If I’d wanted to harm you, you’d be dead already. I’ve come to make you an offer.’

His gaze sharpened. ‘You’re not Freya.’

He studied her closely. She looked like Freya.

Identical, even. The same lithe strength in her frame, the same tangle of chestnut hair, freckles scattered like stardust across pale skin, the same piercing blue eyes.

But there was something off. Something beneath the surface.

She bore herself with a weight that Freya had never carried.

She shrugged, the motion careless, almost amused. ‘That’s a rather fluid truth.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘Sit, and I’ll tell you.’

‘I’d prefer not to.’

Another shrug. ‘As you like. It makes no difference to me.’

Kage lingered in silence, his dark eyes fixed upon the valkyrian woman, shadowed with suspicion.

He could not quite place what it was that unsettled him, only that something intangible had shifted.

Where once he had known only indifference, now her presence stirred unease, as though the air around her had thickened with secrets.

Something within her had changed, and he felt it in his bones.

‘I'm still Freya,’ she said softly, her voice a breeze that stirred something old in him. ‘The same one you met at the drakonian castle. I have always been her. But this change you sense... it comes because I am no longer cloaking the truth I’ve hidden from you.’

Kage’s brow furrowed, uncertainty tightening his expression.

She went on, her gaze distant, as though reaching through time itself. ‘Even though I am Freya... this face I wear, it was not always mine. Once, it belonged to a mortal. A valkyrian. And in time, I became her.’

Kage stilled, the words a puzzle he could not yet piece together. ‘What does that mean?’ he asked, his voice low.

Freya let out a slow, weary sigh, but gave no reply.

The valkyrian stretched her hands towards the fire, letting the heat seep into her chilled fingers.

From the inner lining of the coat she wore—a strange garment for one of her kind, who were more often cloaked in flowing silks or armoured leathers—she retrieved a small bundle wrapped in cloth.

Unfolding it with care, she revealed strips of dried meat and began to eat with deliberate slowness.

She did not offer to share. Nor did she flinch at the wolf’s low growl, or the sharp caw of the crow flapping restlessly overhead.

The presence of a watchful wyverian prince a few paces away left her entirely unmoved, as if the world around her was little more than a breeze stirring through branches.

Once she had finished her modest meal, she turned towards Kage, her lips curving into a soft smile, one far sweeter than any he had ever seen grace Freya’s face.

‘Do you miss her?’ she asked gently, the fire’s glow casting a rose hue across her cheeks.

Kage frowned, uncertain of her meaning. ‘Wren?’

‘No. Not Wren. Your sister.’

He gave a noncommittal shrug. Of course he missed Mal, but not in the way others might.

Mal was a force of nature, indomitable and untouchable, and Kage had long understood that her strength required no protection, no fretting.

He did not need his siblings constantly near to love them.

It was enough to know they lived, to know they thrived.

Their joy, their survival, was his peace.

‘Not her,’ the valkyrian said softly.

Kage stilled.

Not her .

And with those two words, the hollow within his chest cracked open. His breath faltered. He did not want to speak of her. Not of the sister whose laughter no longer echoed through castle halls. Not of the one whose absence still pressed heavy against his ribs, day and night.

Haven.

Her face, smiling and radiant, surged to the forefront of his mind and he staggered back a step, as if the memory alone had the power to knock the wind from him.

‘Would you like to see her one last time, Kage Blackburn?’

His black eyes widened, pupils flaring with the sharpness of a blade drawn too quickly. ‘How…?’

‘How is not the question,’ Freya replied smoothly, brushing the last of the crumbs from her lap as she stood. ‘The question is whether you wish to see her one final time.’

‘You cannot.’

‘I can.’ Her voice did not rise in arrogance, only certainty. ‘ But again, that is not the question.’

A thousand thoughts surged through Kage’s mind, each a warning bell sounding in tandem. Perhaps she was no valkyrian at all. Perhaps a witch playing at sentiment, baiting him with grief sharpened into longing. Haven’s name alone could carve through his composure like a serrated blade.

He couldn’t risk it.

He couldn’t…

‘Yes,’ he breathed. The word slipped from his lips before his logic could catch it, and with it came a tightening of every muscle, as though his body itself braced for regret.

‘Very well,’ Freya said, turning towards the trees. ‘Come along. I will take you to her.’

Kage watched her disappear between branches and shadow. Every part of him screamed against it, instincts thundering with alarm. He should not follow. He must not. This was madness. It reeked of it.

But the mere thought of seeing Haven, of hearing her voice, of whispering all the apologies he had swallowed down since the day they’d lost her, stripped him of all reason. What did it matter if it was a trap? What did it matter if the world collapsed the moment he stepped forward?

He missed her. Gods, he missed her.

He longed to tell her how sorry he was. How empty the world had become without her in it. How his lungs had grown tight from breathing in air that hadn’t touched her.

He needed her. Desperately. More than he’d ever dared admit aloud.

So he followed.

Bryn’s wolf kept close, its ears flicking with unease. Spirox circled overhead, cawing in warning, feathers ruffling in distress. But Kage hushed them both with a gentle word, a quiet gesture.

No warning could sway him.

He knew what he was walking into.

But if it ended with him dead, well, then at least Haven would no longer be alone. Kai and Mal would have each other. And Kage, at last, would be with his sister once more.

The thought softened something within him.