Valkyrie
The Luna Dowager stood in the doorway, her eyes dark with barely concealed judgment, her presence as cold as the walls around us.
The silence stretched, thick and heavy, as her gaze bore into me like an unspoken reprimand.
“Luna… I—” I began, my voice faltering, but I couldn’t find the right words.
“Well, whatever you were trying to do, it seems the madness has passed,” she said flatly, her tone distant, clinical, and cold.
The words, instead of offering praise, felt more like a chastisement—an acknowledgment that I had simply been a tool, a means to an end.
A strange form of praise that hit me harder than any insult.
“Didn’t you care about what—” I started again, my heart pounding in my chest, desperate to understand her indifference.
She cut me off with a sharp flick of her wrist. “I didn’t see anything except treatment for my son.” Her voice was dismissive, as if I were no more than an errant servant.
She turned toward the door, her every movement deliberate and composed. “Now, you’re dismissed. Don’t you dare speak of this to anyone. Understood?”
The command echoed in the room like a death sentence.
I stood there, rooted to the spot, as her words washed over me like a cold wave.
Betrayed.
Used.
Is this what she thought of me?
That I was nothing more than a pawn in her game?
A tool to be discarded once my purpose had been served?
A sickly mixture of anger and disbelief choked me from within.
I swallowed hard, trying to steady myself.
The bitterness that churned in my throat threatened to spill over, but I held it down.
“Understood,” I whispered.
The door slammed shut behind her with finality, leaving me alone in the room with nothing but the heavy weight of what had just transpired.
The soft sound of Ragnor's breathing, steady yet shallow, was the only thing grounding me to reality. But even that was a cruel reminder of what I had just lost.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had just crossed a line—one I could never uncross.
My heart ached for him, for the man I had fought to bring back, only to be discarded so carelessly.
It was as though nothing between us had ever truly mattered.
"So, this is our fate, huh?"
The words slipped from my lips before I could stop them. I turned back to Ragnor, still lying vulnerable on the bed, his body relaxed for the first time in what felt like forever.
The enforcers had already begun to move away from him, their duty done, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being watched. Eyes were on me, cold and calculating, from the shadows.
I stepped closer to him, my heart in my throat, reaching out to brush the damp strands of hair from his forehead.
As my fingers lingered on his skin, the faintest tremor ran through him, and my heart raced.
His eyes fluttered open slowly, just a sliver at first, then wider as he registered my presence.
The storm within him had subsided, leaving behind only the shadows of what he had become. But there was something… off. Something I couldn’t quite grasp.
“Valkyrie…” His voice was hoarse, cracked, and I thought I saw the flicker of a memory pass through his eyes—a fleeting connection to the man I had known, the man I thought I had saved.
But then, his gaze sharpened, his expression twisting with unfamiliarity, and his hand shot out, gripping my wrist with surprising strength.
“You have to leave,” he rasped, his voice low and desperate.
I froze.
The rawness in his words sent a chill down my spine. “Ragnor, what—”
“No!” His grip tightened, his fingers biting into my skin. “You don’t understand. You can’t stay here. Not with me.”
His eyes, once stormy gray, had once again started to bleed into the feral crimson that haunted him.
There was no denying it—he was slipping again, the darkness clawing at him from the inside. His breath came in ragged gasps, as though the effort to speak was costing him more than he could bear.
“Ragnor, please.” My voice cracked, the plea escaping before I could stop it. “I’m not leaving you. Not now.”
He shook his head violently, his entire body trembling. “You don’t know what they’ll do to you. You can’t be part of this. I won’t let them—”
“What are you talking about? Who’s ‘they’?”
But then, before I could demand answers, the door swung open again. This time, it wasn’t the Luna Dowager. It was Duncan. His features were tight, frustration and something darker shadowing his gaze as he stepped into the room.
“Valkyrie.” He didn’t wait for a response. His voice was firm, demanding. “It’s time to leave.”
I hesitated, the weight of the moment settling like a stone in my gut. What choice did I have? Could I really walk away now?
But then, I realized—I'm no one. Voiceless. A mere tool for this pack to use, an instrument of their will. And yet... I would gladly be used if it meant being close to Ragnor, to the man I had loved for years, though none but my heart knew it.
I stood up slowly, my hands trembling.
“Okay.” The word felt hollow in my mouth, like it didn’t belong. But it was the only thing I could say.
With a heavy heart, I followed Duncan out of the room, casting one last, lingering glance at Ragnor. The man I had fought so hard for, now slipping away in the hands of something far more dangerous than either of us had ever anticipated.
Leaving him like this—weak, vulnerable, with no one to watch over him—it didn’t sit well with me. Worry crept in, curling like a poison at the back of my mind.
What if the madness came back?
What if this wasn’t over?
But I didn’t know.
I didn’t have the answers, and I could feel the ground slipping out from beneath me.