Valkyrie Crowned Read online

  Valkyrie Crowned

  Valkyrie’s Legacy Book 4

  Allyson Lindt

  This book is a work of fiction.

  While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by Allyson Lindt

  All Rights Reserved

  ISBN: 9781949986679

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Acelette Press

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Valkyrie Crowned (Valkyrie's Legacy, #4)

  Chapter One | Kirby

  Chapter Two | Gwydion

  Chapter Three | Min

  Chapter Four | Starkad

  Chapter Five | Brit

  Chapter Six | Min

  Chapter Seven | Gwydion

  Chapter Eight | Starkad

  Chapter Nine | Brit

  Chapter Ten | Starkad

  Chapter Eleven | Kirby

  Chapter Twelve | Min

  Chapter Thirteen | Starkad

  Chapter Fourteen | Brit

  Chapter Fifteen | Kirby

  Chapter Sixteen | Starkad

  Chapter Seventeen | Kirby

  Chapter Eighteen | Min

  Chapter Nineteen | Gwydion

  Chapter Twenty | Min

  Chapter Twenty-One | Starkad

  Chapter Twenty-Two | Kirby

  Chapter Twenty-Three | Kirby

  Chapter Twenty-Four | Kirby

  Chapter Twenty-Five | Min

  Chapter Twenty-Six | Starkad

  Chapter Twenty-Seven | Brit

  Chapter Twenty-Eight | Gwydion

  Chapter Twenty-Nine | Kirby

  Chapter Thirty | Kirby

  Chapter Thirty-One | Gwydion

  Chapter Thirty-Two | Min

  Chapter Thirty-Three | Kirby

  Chapter Thirty-Four | Gwydion

  Chapter Thirty-Five | Kirby

  Chapter Thirty-Six | Kirby

  Chapter Thirty-Seven | Starkad

  Chapter Thirty-Eight | Kirby

  Chapter Thirty-Nine | Brit

  Chapter Forty | Kirby

  Chapter Forty-One | Min

  Chapter Forty-Two | Kirby

  Chapter Forty-Three | Gwydion

  Chapter Forty-Four | Kirby

  Chapter Forty-Five | Brit

  Chapter Forty-Six | Kirby

  Chapter Forty-Seven | Starkad

  Chapter Forty-Eight | Gwydion

  Chapter Forty-Nine | Brit

  Chapter Fifty | Kirby

  Chapter Fifty-One | Kirby

  Chapter Fifty-Two | Kirby

  Epilogue One | Kirby – Three Months Later

  Epilogue Two | Dahlia

  About the Author

  For my eternal dragon

  Chapter One

  Kirby

  The hotel shifted under Kirby, the tremors escalating to a rolling shake. Dust spilled into the air, clogging her lungs and clouding her vision.

  She met Brit’s gaze. Just a few minutes ago they’d been talking. Reconciling. Brit, apologizing for the past, and Kirby, finally accepting that she meant it. A side effect of having masqueraded as Brit and lived inside her head for weeks.

  Now fear replaced adoration on Brit’s face.

  It had only been a few days since Kirby was on the TOM campus and felt a similar quake. However, this was worse than when Loki killed half of Kirby’s former classmates and unleashed a new-old god, determined to destroy the world to find his imprisoned sister.

  If that quake destroyed most of the buildings on The Order of Mistletoe campus, this one would bring the hotel down around them without effort.

  Kirby couldn’t let that happen. There were so many lives here, and none of them had anything to do with the furious god making the ground tremble. She couldn’t let them die for someone else’s sins.

  “Don’t do it.” Brit approached her when the shaking paused.

  Kirby was already reaching deep inside, to grasp the ethereal shield she could summon as a Valkyrie, and protect as many people as possible. “I can’t do nothing. Do you still feel him in the air?”

  Brit could sense certain magics, especially those with malice and ill intent. “Yes.” She clenched her jaw. “But you pushed too hard last time. If you pass out, you can’t save anyone, including yourself.”

  The ground shook again, with no build-up this time. The building rattled violently beneath them, like they were stuck in a paint mixer.

  She and Brit had survived lethal gunshots and worse. A building falling on them wouldn’t mean death. But Kirby couldn’t say the same about the mortals here.

  Kirby focused on the power that flowed through her. In her mind, it was water sparked with lightning. She pulled the desire to protect and spun it outward, like unfurling a building-sized cape.

  Darkness licked at the edges of her vision. Her shield didn’t feel as steady as last time, and she needed it to be stronger.

  She tugged every strand of power she could find and spun them into a massive web, letting it flow out more and more with each heartbeat.

  “Kirby.” Brit sounded like she was screaming through water.

  Kirby would stop when she knew everyone was safe. She just needed a little mo—

  Chapter Two

  Gwydion

  Gwydion had lived through enough natural disasters that they didn’t usually faze him. This quake was different, though.

  It wasn’t just the stuttered surges of violent shaking he didn’t like, though it threatened to tear this tiny house apart. There was a foulness to the magic causing this tremor. A tainted poison that polluted the earth Gwydion had an affinity with.

  It hurt to push past the darkness and stabilize the wooden beams holding this place up. Trees had memories—even re-purposed ones—and these spoke of the heartache, the looming madness, and the suppressed lust that had lived within their walls for the last few years.

  A visceral reminder of Kirby’s journey to awakening in this life. Of the time she spent training as an assassin, because Starkad insisted it would be best if she learned to protect herself. Of the time after he pulled her from the same place, because the experience nearly destroyed her. And of the time Starkad and Kirby lived in this home, him denying her answers, affection, and anything but the most basic kindness and care.

  Anger would have to wait, but Gwydion could fix Starkad with a furious glare. Which was as unhelpful as everything else they were doing.

  Starkad vanished. Poof—he was gone in a blink.

  The shaking stopped, and the toxicity in the ground vanished.

  Gwydion stumbled at the shift in stability. “Starkad,” he forced enough power into his shout, for it to carry through the entire house. It was tempting to believe Gwydion had wished him into temporary oblivion, but the reality was likely far more nefarious.

  This had happened on the TOM campus. When the shaking stopped, everyone was gone, except Kirby, Gwydion, Min, Brit, and Starkad. There was no telling at the time if Loki had taken the other students, or if it was Gluskab—the assumed source of all the quakes—or a third god.

  Gluskab was supposed to be a god of good and life and order, but when his sister, a goddess of chaos, was sealed away by the gods, the lack of balance drove him mad. He’d asked Hel for help sleeping as well, until he
could release his sister, and they could rain destruction on the world together.

  Gwydion searched the house for Starkad. Not that it took long.

  Gwydion was alone here.

  He dialed Kirby’s phone. When he didn’t get an answer, he moved to Min. Brit. Nothing. Starkad. A ringing sounded from the device sitting on the table near the front door.

  Gwydion’s concern spiked. He kept cycling through their phone numbers as he turned on the news.

  The local channels were starting to talk about the quakes.

  The tension twisting every inch of Gwydion insisted this was worse than it appeared, and it already looked pretty bad.

  An alarm blared through the house. The high-pitched noise was a sharp pulse at the top of hearing range, piercing and shrieking and drawing on every battle magic he knew.

  Chapter Three

  Min

  Min left his hotel room. He moved closer toward the exit each time there was enough of a lull in the quakes for him to do so.

  Death permeated the air. Most of it foul and belonging to Gluskab, but the loss of life grew with each new tremor. Not just within the building, but also through the entire city. Far too much death to be a result solely of this disaster.

  As he descended the stairs, he found a woman in her late teens huddled in the corner between floors.

  She clutched something to her chest, and tears streamed down her face.

  “You need to go.” He kept his voice kind and reached for her.

  She shook her head and jerked away. “He’s not moving. He’s my best friend, and he just stopped—” She sobbed.

  “Who?” Min gently pulled her arms open.

  She cradled a toy collie. Tendrils of death circled the small dog’s body, lingering uselessly now that they’d sucked away the creature’s life.

  Rage, potent and terrifyingly unfamiliar coursed through Min. He was a god of life, and that meant accepting that the circle had to close and all lives ended. However, this one hadn’t ended on its own. It had been stolen. Viciously ripped away.

  “He’s okay. Just scared.” Min spoke through the violent shaking around them. He held out his arms. “May I?”

  She hesitated.

  “I won’t hurt him. You have my word.” Min leaked a hint of soothing into his tone.

  She opened her arms wider.

  The building around them creaked, dust falling. Min covered his head with his arms, and used his body to shield the young woman and her companion.

  A large hunk of concrete struck his back, and he clenched his jaw to hold back a roar. The injury healed as quickly as it formed. Several more slabs struck him, one knocking his phone from his pocket and another crushing it.

  When the quake paused, he straightened again, careful to not let any of the darker, death-tinged debris fall on her. He held out his arms again.

  She handed him the collie.

  Min cradled the dog in one arm and stroked his fingers along the creature’s ear. “You need to wake up, little one.” The words were for her comfort. “Please.” And a little for his own. “You have friends here, who need you still.” As he spoke, he let his power drift along the tendrils of death, obliterating them, and breathing life back into the tiny body.

  The dog’s leg’s kicked, his eyes opened, and he yelped a greeting.

  “Benedict.” Fresh tears tracked through the dirt on the woman’s cheeks.

  Min handed her the collie. “See? He’ll be fine. We need to go.”

  She nodded. Cradling the dog to her chest, she stood.

  Min escorted her to the ground floor, made sure she was safe, then raced back inside to evacuate anyone else he could find. His primary concern was Kirby. And Brit. But they would be doing this as well—helping people. Ensuring as few lives were lost as possible.

  As one of the quakes stopped, the rancid scent of death in the air evaporated. It didn’t take the sadness of casualty with it. Min mourned all those gone. He couldn’t bring thousands back to life. The puppy was a miracle as it was, still with a breath of life, and Min exhausted a lot of energy turning that into more.

  He stood at the back of the crowds milling in confusion and grief on the streets. He couldn’t see Kirby or Brit. They might not stick out to most of these people, but he was always drawn to Kirby’s presence.

  Min should stand out to Kirby and Brit, as well. He towered over most people here.

  Another presence tickled his senses, though. Another god. One of war. Fallen civilizations. But so many fit that definition.

  Min turned, desperate to locate the source.

  Chapter Four

  Starkad

  Starkad’s surroundings vanished in a blinding flash that sent pain rocketing through his skull.

  As the brightness faded, trees swam into view instead of living room furniture. It was night here, rather than afternoon. What the fuck?

  He patted his pockets, but his phone, wallet—everything—sat back on the table by his front door. He’d become so domesticated.

  The position of the moon in the sky and the brightness of the stars said he was nowhere near home. Not that they had trees this tall, vibrant, and ancient in many places in The States. He turned his head toward the sky again and sniffed the air.

  Correction—this was home. Norway. Where he and Kirby had been created. Where he’d lived for centuries. The comfort that sank into his limbs was disrupted by the nagging thought, But I shouldn’t be here.

  More critical was the need to get back to Kirby. Make sure she was all right. That quake had been Gluskab. No question. And if he’d come to Chicago, it was either for Min or Gwydion, or for the god who had made his home in underground Chicago.

  A low growl reached his ears, and his wolf surged forward. He’d made a similar noise more times than he could count.

  He spun to see another wolf, this one the size of a large SUV, squaring off with him, teeth bared and body tense.

  Chapter Five

  Brit

  Brit should be focusing her concern on the fact that she was in an actual fucking prison cell. Her hotel room had vanished, and concrete walls replaced the luxury.

  However, she was too worried about Kirby to give much attention to anything that wasn’t an immediate threat.

  Kirby had been teleported—blinked... whatever—with Brit, but she was unconscious on the floor. Her skin was pale, and her chest barely moved with each shallow breath.

  Brit knew intermediate first aid and triage. Useful skills in the field, but Kirby didn’t exhibit any injuries. There was nothing to treat.

  It took about thirty seconds to explore the small box they were locked in. Three by three meters. Steel door with a tiny window. There was nothing in here besides her and Kirby. No bed, toilet, bucket... This wasn’t meant to be a long-term cell.

  If some random god intended to execute either Brit or Kirby, they were in for a surprise.

  The thought didn’t erase the fear mounting inside Brit.

  She settled on the floor again, pulled Kirby’s head into her lap, and trailed her fingers through Kirby’s hair. “Please wake up,” Brit murmured. I don’t want to do this alone.

  The air in the room shifted, and a faint hum reached Brit’s ears. She laid Kirby down as gently and quickly as she could, and stood, every sense on full alert.

  Something magical—a thick, heavy power—flowed over her. There was the god.

  “Brit Hauge, remain standing and put your hands behind your head.” The voice seemed to come from nowhere.

  The last name was foreign to her. TOM stripped students of their last names when they adopted them as children, to sever ties with their past and their identity.

  Brit complied with the order, putting herself between the door and Kirby. This was likely the safest way to see what happened next.

  Two soldiers with guns stepped into the room. It didn’t matter how many more were in the hallway. The doorway provided a funnel, and as long as one of them had extra magazines, she only
needed one gun to take down a company of men.

  The soldiers were dressed in full body armor, including masks. That still left half a dozen spots she could hit to wound or kill.

  Both had their weapons pointed more at the ground than at her head.

  Fucking armatures. She twitched her foot.

  They raised the weapons, fired, and hit her in the knees.

  She couldn’t bite back the scream of agony, as bones shattered and she collapsed to the ground.

  Chapter Six

  Min

  Min focused on the energy of the new arrival and relaxed. The woman who stepped into view wore a smile, torn jeans, and an Anarchy in the UK T-shirt. She could be sixteen or thirty.

  But her age was measured in centuries or millennia. He returned Freya’s—Aya’s—smile. She wasn’t the face he’d been hoping for but was always a welcome sight.

  “Min.” She gave him a quick hug.

  He kissed her on both cheeks before releasing her. “Aya. I hate to be rude, but I assume you’re no more here to catch up than I am.”

  Aya shook her head. “I’ve been looking for you and your companions. My brother and I both have. We can only find you and Gwydion.”

  “Kirby and Brit were here, in the hotel, when the quakes started.” Concern surged through Min. “I can’t locate them now. You don’t sense them at all?”

  Once upon a time, Kirby had been a loyal believer in Freya. Had prayed to her. A god could typically pluck their followers out of a crowd, regardless of said god’s other gifts.

  Aya shook her head. “I believe there’s a good chance The Followers of Urd have her.”

  “That’s good.” Min’s relief was short-lived at Aya’s frown. “That’s not good?”

  Her frown deepened. “It’s not good.”

  Chapter Seven

  Gwydion

  If Gwydion knew anything about Starkad, the high-pitched alarm was a proximity warning for the house or something equally as paranoid. Not that Starkad’s paranoia wasn’t justified, but Gwydion wouldn’t have thought to install such a thing.