“Let me consult with the Empress,” Aldrik said suddenly.
Vhalla turned, realizing he’d been staring at her the whole time. The majors departed on command. Jax didn’t so much as look at her, whispering hastily to Elecia.
“Vhalla . . .” Aldrik crossed the gap between them. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” She avoided his gaze.
“You fought well.”
She winced at the compliment.
“You are becoming a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield.” Aldrik tried leaning forward to catch her eyes. “So, what do you think we should do?”
“Whatever you and the majors think is best.” She sighed heavily. “I am very tired. I trust you.”
“I need your opinion.” He was being relentless.
“Why?”
“Well, you said you could feel him . . .” Vhalla looked up sharply at the Emperor, a scowl growing on her face as he spoke. It only made him speak faster, and the more he opened his mouth the further his foot went into it. “I know, I understand, that you may not want to. But for us—no, for everyone—for all of our subjects, if you can find out what his next move is, then we can prepare.”
The laughter escaped as a spasm of amusement. It quivered her breath, trembled her shoulders, until it erupted as a raspy noise between her lips. It silenced Aldrik and brought a paused, distant look she’d not seen in some time.
“I see.” She stepped away from him. “I see. You are your father’s son after all.”
“What?”
“So willing to use my magic to get what you want. ‘Hush, Vhalla. It’s not a Bond Vhalla.’ It’s easy, not having him in your ear.”
Aldrik stepped back as though she’d struck him.
“You don’t know what it’s like having him in your head!” she shouted and didn’t care who may hear. “You want me to listen to him? To all the words he tries so hard to whisper into my subconscious? To all the visions he shows me if I dare shut my eyes and try to sleep.”
“Vhalla—” Aldrik returned to life.
“How many times must I tell you not to touch me?!” She wrapped her arms around herself, her nails breaking as they dug into her armor. “Don’t do it, Aldrik. Don’t give him one more scrap of emotion to take from me and turn into something else. To use as fuel to break me down.”
Her knees hit the ground, and Vhalla looked up at him, pleading. She looked at him as though he were the Father incarnate. Ready to beg him to take her to the realms beyond.
“By the Mother and Father, Gods, make it stop!” She could feel him in her. He wanted her to give him control. Victor wanted nothing more than to ransack her mind and claim her body. He would turn her into one of his crystal abominations if she let him. “Aldrik, I know you wanted it of me, but-but I can’t.”
Aldrik said nothing. Kneeling on the damp ground before her, Aldrik held out his arms. And the Emperor waited.
Vhalla’s self-control finally cracked. He was a risk worth taking; he’d always been. Aldrik’s arms enveloped her, and Vhalla pushed her face into his chest so hard it almost broke her nose again. She didn’t even try to stop the tears, and he held her all the harder.
“I don’t know—his magic is in me, Aldrik; it could hurt you.” Sense wasn’t winning as Vhalla sought out his comfort, her head finding its way to his neck and shoulder.
“You could never hurt me,” Aldrik whispered.
Vhalla could not choke down a sob, praying that it was still true. His heartbeat pulsed within his neck, and Vhalla listened closely. She focused on it above all other noise in her head.
“I’m sorry,” Aldrik continued, his breath ruffling her hair. “I shouldn’t have let you endure this for so long. I didn’t think it was this bad. I thought it was stress and war, and I was a fool. Forgive me.” He pressed his lips to her temple. “I love you, Vhalla Yarl Solaris.”
Vhalla closed her eyes and let her new, full name echo throughout her mind. It reverberated all the way down into the depths of emotions she had tried to hide. Her love for him would always be there, burning just under the surface. Vhalla opened her mouth to tell him the same, to make her own apologies, to commit to working together and building a new dawn.
But a scream was the only sound to escape as a stabbing pain knocked the wind from her chest.
“Vhalla!” Aldrik’s voice was raised, frantic.
Vhalla, another voice seared at the edge of her consciousness. It sounded like a dagger being drawn across glass.
She gasped for air, a violent shudder coursing through her. It was as though someone had removed her lungs and replaced them with ice.
“Vhalla, what’s wrong? What is it?” Aldrik was hopelessly frantic.
“Al—”
Don’t say his name, Victor’s voice purred. Do it and you’ll only make this worse.
“Aldrik!” Vhalla choked out defiantly. “He-he—”
She couldn’t utter another word. All the air was gone. Vhalla balled in on herself, trying to become so small the world would forget she existed. The agony was as great as some of the worst pains that had been inflicted upon her in the past two years.
“Major Jax!” Aldrik shouted.
Movement barely registered in her blurring vision. Her breath was quick and shallow, and she fought for every gasp. The firelight was reduced to glowing orbs in her quickly tunneling vision. More shouting, arguing, running footsteps, it was all happening to someone else very far away.
How badly does it hurt? Victor raked against her mind.
She couldn’t even choke out a response.
All because you said his name. I did warn you. Do you know what this is, Vhalla? Do you know what’s happening to you?
She was dying.
“Vhal, Vhalla!” a different voice cried for her.
Her eyes fluttered closed.
There is no pain here.
No pain, she agreed weakly. Darkness welcomed her.
If he truly loved you, he would take you away. But do you see what he does to you?
Victor smashed his way into her consciousness with the grace of a sledgehammer. He was pilfering from her awareness, encroaching upon all that she was. His essence was like a snare, the more she fought it, the tighter it wound.
“Vhalla! Don’t - - - - -ave to fig- -t!” The voices were fading; she was reaching the bottom of that abyss she was sinking into.
The truth is, Victor continued. It was as though he stood right next to her. He loves his crown, his Empire, his legacy. He fights for his own glory, just like his father.
You’re wrong.
Why do you still fight me, wretch? Do you not think the late Solaris started with pure intentions? You knew the man he was. Aldrik will be the same; he’s tasting war, and he will hunger it forever. The sensation of Victor pressed upon her, and Vhalla struggled to maintain her sense of self. But what’s Vhalla’s role in his world? Why doesn’t she fight for the winning side? Fight with me . . . What’ll be your destiny?