Page 20

Kieran

I feel their stares before they speak, the weight of centuries of Guardian politics pressing in as I follow them into the council chamber. The breakfast drama was inevitable. Callum has always been too eager to assert authority he doesn’t possess.

“You can’t be serious about the Duskbane heir,” Callum starts the moment the doors close. His voice carries that familiar blend of arrogance and fear that’s always made him dangerous. “He abandoned Absentia.”

“He was a child,” I say sharply, memories resurfacing with painful clarity. The mysterious disappearance of the royal family, a single heir spirited away in the chaos. My fingers press against the smooth stone table. “The only survivor of the royal line.”

“Exactly why he should have stayed,” Mira interjects, her silver hair catching the light as she paces between the ancient pillars. Her footsteps echo against the marble floor, each one precise and measured like her words. “Absentia needed its prince.”

“Absentia needed him alive,” Revna counters from her seat by the window. At least someone here has sense. The sunlight makes the scars on her hands almost luminous, badges of honor from battles these younger Guardians have only read about. “What good is a vanished prince to a fallen realm?”

Callum’s mouth twists, his disdain poorly concealed. “He seems quite… comfortable with our Valkyrie,” he says, the possessive term making something dark and ancient stir beneath my skin.

“She is not our anything,” I say, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. The temperature in the room plummets several degrees as my power ripples outward. “Choose your words with more care, Callum.”

He steps back instinctively, a flicker of genuine fear crossing his face before he masks it. But the damage is done, I’ve seen it, and we both know it. The other Guardians shift uncomfortably, sensing the edge of my control fraying.

I wrestle my emotions back into place, burying the things I don’t want to examine too closely. The things I’ve been struggling not to dwell on since I first saw them together.

The bond. The way their shadows reach for each other without conscious thought. The way she looks at him, at all of them, like they’re pieces of her soul she didn’t know she was missing.

My chest tightens with an ache that’s grown all too familiar. I mask it with practiced indifference.

“The records—” Callum begins again.

“—mention connections even the oldest seers didn’t fully understand,” I interrupt, keeping my voice steady despite the storm brewing beneath my skin. “Malrik Duskbane is exactly where he needs to be.”

“But why now?” Mira asks, pausing mid-step. She turns to face me, her expression tight. “Why return now, when the barriers are barely holding? ”

“The scrolls—” Callum starts again, but Revna snorts, the sound sharp as breaking glass.

“Enough with the scrolls and ancient texts. You weren’t there, Callum. None of you were.” Her eyes meet mine, ancient and unwavering. “Only Kieran and I remember what it was really like. What we lost.”

Revna moves to stand beside me, her presence as steady as it’s been for centuries. She was there when Solveig made her choice, when everything changed. She’s been there for every endless year of searching since.

“She was just a child,” I say quietly, the words scraping my throat. “Only six years old when Solveig sent her forward.”

“And now she returns with not one, but multiple bonds forming,” Mira observes, her tone carefully neutral though her eyes betray her wariness. “That’s… unprecedented.”

“She has a shadow prince, a chaos mage, and two berserkers bound to her soul,” Callum says, like he’s listing crimes. “How can we be sure she’s even still—”

“Choose your next words very carefully,” I cut in, my voice dropping dangerously low. The temperature in the room plummets. “That’s Solveig’s daughter you’re questioning.”

Revna straightens, her movement drawing all eyes.

“The bonds are not a weakness,” she says firmly.

“They’re part of this. Can’t you feel it?

The way everything is weaving itself together?

” She looks at me. “The lost prince returns just as she does. The berserkers awaken. None of this is coincidence.”

“I think,” Revna adds, her eyes glinting with that familiar determination that’s gotten us through worse, “it’s time we spoke with all of them. Together. ”

I exhale slowly. She’s right, of course she’s right. She usually is, though I rarely admit it aloud.

“Have them brought to the Hall of Echoes,” I say, ignoring the way my chest aches at the thought of facing this. “All of them.”

Mira and the other guardians move toward the door.

Their silver-threaded ceremonial garments shimmer with subtle runes, fabric whispering against the stone floor as they exit.

Revna and I hang back. I’ve known her long enough to recognize when she has something to say that the others shouldn’t hear.

“When were you going to tell me?” Revna asks quietly once they’re out of earshot. When I don’t answer immediately, she adds, “About your bond. To her.”

I exhale slowly. “I’ve always known.”

She studies me for a long moment, waiting. Her patience has always been her greatest weapon against my silence.

I drag a hand through my hair. “When I first met her, I felt it. The connection. But she was so young, and she didn’t understand. And then…” My throat tightens. “Then she was gone.”

“And now she’s back,” Revna says, voice steady.

I nod, jaw clenching. “And she’s forming bonds with them.”

Revna exhales sharply. “You thought it would just be you.”

I don’t answer. Because yes. That’s exactly what I thought.

“That’s not how it works,” Revna says, watching me carefully. “Not for Valkyries. Not for her.”

My fingers tighten into a fist at my side. “I know that now.”

And that’s the problem .

For centuries, I carried the certainty of our connection—the knowledge that we were meant to find each other again. It was supposed to be me and her. A reunion of souls. A return to what was stolen from us.

But now?

Now she looks at me and sees a stranger.

Now she’s bonding with others.

And I can feel it.

The connections growing one by one, tightening around her like threads of fate. Each bond reinforcing something different. The strength of the berserkers. The shadows of Malrik. The chaos of Finn.

And me.

Still here. Still bound. But no longer the only one.

Revna studies me in silence, her eyes as sharp as the truth she’s been waiting for me to admit. Finally, she says, “You’re afraid you’ll lose her.”

A bitter laugh escapes me. “I already have.”

She frowns. “She’s still yours, Kieran.”

I shake my head. “Not like I thought. Not like before.”

Revna sighs. “You thought she would come back, and the bond would be exactly as it was before. Just the two of you.”

I nod, throat tight.

“But that’s not how the bond works for Valkyries,” she reminds me gently. “It was never meant to be just one. Each connection strengthens different aspects of her power. It’s balance, not competition.”

Balance.

The word grates against something deep inside me .

“It’s not just about fate choosing companions,” Revna continues. “It’s about what she needs. And Kaia?” She meets my eyes squarely. “She’s not just a Valkyrie. She’s the last Valkyrie.”

I clench my jaw. I know.

I hate how right she is.

“The Hall of Echoes will make her see,” Revna says. “It was built for this. Where Valkyries once acknowledged their bonds, where fate aligned them with those meant to stand beside them. She won’t be able to deny it once she steps inside.”

I exhale slowly, nodding. “That’s why I chose it.”

And that’s why I hate it.

Because once she enters that chamber, it will all become real.

Her bonds.

The ones with them.

And the one with me.

The Hall looms ahead, its entrance framed by towering runes that glow faintly, thrumming with magic older than most of the sanctuary itself. The air shifts as we approach—heavy with memory, thick with power.

The Hall of Echoes is unlike any other place in the sanctuary. It doesn’t just hold history, it preserves it. Magic lingers here, etched into the stone, woven through the air. It’s where Valkyries once gathered to make important decisions. Where the royals gathered after, seeking wisdom.

And where bonds were acknowledged.

Revna exhales beside me. “It still feels the same.”

It does. Too much the same .

The chamber is vast, with arched ceilings that seem to stretch beyond reality, shimmering with threads of magic from realms long since lost. Shadows flicker along the walls, but they aren’t just shadows.

They’re memories.

Echoes of the past.

Faint figures drift in and out of sight, remnants of those who stood here before us. Valkyries. Their companions. Their warriors.

The energy here is alive, waiting.

Revna places a hand against one of the glowing runes. “Once she enters, she won’t be able to deny it.”

I nod, the weight of it settling in my chest.

The Hall will show her the truth.

And I’m not sure any of us are ready for what comes after.