Page 138 of The Last Valkyrie

His off-hand sword stabbed into my chest—

As I shoved the dagger into his forehead.

We stayed there for a moment, pain and shock and a strange sense of sorrow and regret filtering through me. Gresh’kellen’s eyes were wide, blinking, even as my dagger jabbed four inches into his skull.

I glanced down to see his sword had likewise sunk the same length into my chest.

Difference was, his missed my heart by a mere inch.

Mine didn’t miss.

Gresh’kellen toppled back wordlessly. Already stripes of sunlight were spreading across his face from the magic of my dagger, joining his purple veins to protrude his skin.

The dark elf’s eyes stayed open, staring up at the moon, sightless.

I stumbled back, breathing heavily. Coughed, spitting up blood, and wiped an errant strand of red drool from my chin with my forearm.

The pain inside me was so fierce it numbed everything.

I looked down and noticed Gresh’kellen’s sword was still sticking out of my chest, yet no hand remained on the hilt. Blood seeped down my back, joining with a few other cuts to create a network of red rivers. And that wasn’t accounting for the half-dozen nicks and shallow cuts along my legs and arms—some deeper than others.

Dizziness made me falter.

I took a step away, still staring down at his body, as if I expected my nemesis to rise from death in the moment, commanded by the same magic that controlled the draug.

Yet Gresh’kellen remained unmoving.

“That’s that, then,” I croaked aloud.

And then fell backward as oblivion consumed me.

Chapter 44

Ravinica

MY RAGE DULLED TO Athin thread of disquiet and remorse once Dahlia left me in her magical cage. I knew she must have been quite the runeshaper to hold me inside here for so long. She had been gone for half an hour now, yet the enchantment remained.

My remorse stemmed from regret. I was a fool for coming here, detaching myself from my mates. Day had dragged into night, and my men were likely worried sick about me. They probably felt betrayed that I had left without so much as a note, spurred on by my fever dream.

“Suppose the dark lord has played both of us for fools.”

I had so many assumptions about Dahlia, still wondering where she had gone and what she was planning with the Runesphere.

Part of me felt this was vindictive, getting back at me for the death of Astrid. Even if I hadn’t directly caused Astrid’s death, I had been Magnus’ impetus for it.

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