Romans & histoires Valhalla Saga

**DRAKONHELM** From the vantage point of the low rise, George could see the Jagged Pass, a narrow road between two shoulders of rock. Wagons crawled along it like beetles, tiny against the cliffs, their canvas tops pale in the winter light. “The pass is our spine,” Varos Dane was saying. “Without it, Drakonhelm would bend to every wind.” He sat his horse with the ease of a long habit, his dark cloak drawn close against the chill.

"But whether you like it or not, we're stuck here together. So maybe..." Boom!! A deafening sound exploded from the sky. Everyone's heads snapped upward. Words appeared in the air, burning bright against the darkening sky: "WELCOME TO VEDRAH" Beside the words, a grinning skeleton head floated, its hollow eyes staring down at them. Natzy's breath caught in her throat. The air around her felt thick, and suffocating. Then the voice returned. The same booming voice from the bus. "You have all been chosen. Welcome to your judgment."

Jarek tenses up "You didn't think we would see through you alpha? We have been on this earth for 300 years we know a possessive Alpha mate a mile away. Lets go to our chambers and have a talk. I'm Valka and this is my mate Malthor by the way." She says and turns to Valory " Please see that Lee bring her to our chambers and when Falkore returns make sure he joins us." Valory nods her head and shift into human form, walking into the castle.

Red, fresh. I stare at them. Kings always lose everything. My breathing slows. Not from calm. From recognition. Italy. Sixteen dead men. Home. Now this. None of it was random. None of it is about money. This is not business, it’s something personal. Belladonna is not attacking my empire, he’s dismantling my life. One piece at a time. The office phone rings, neither of us moves. It rings again, Viktor answers from outside. A second later, he bursts through the door, his face pale.

I’m not sure the impression Sage is trying to give out but no matter what shit he throws my way, I wasn’t going to bow to his egocentric undeserving self. He may be the pack’s Alpha but to me, he’s not but a pain in the ass which I have to tolerate for the meantime, at least till I figure my way out. “Thank you,” I say paying off the Uber driver before stepping out. He dropped me off a few walks to Sage’s territory where humans aren’t to be allowed. Werewolves lurk around humans, and our identities have to remain a secret to avoid endangering the lives of the humans as well as the wolves.

I couldn’t tell if he was reading my outermost thoughts, my emotions, or trying to appeal to my sense of responsibility, but I recited nursery rhymes over and over to create a barrier in my mind. “Cathwulf,” he said with a tight smile. “You’re not like the other residents of the Punishment Pits. Why would you ally with a supernatural criminal destined to destroy the world?” “You’re bluffing,” I said. Hades brought his glass to his lips and took a long sip of his drink. “Queen Hel once testified that Fenrisúlfr and his father brought about Ragnarök. Don’t corrupt your soul out of a futile sense of wolf loyalty.”

Humanoid figures and bestial ones alike pour from its doors, dive off balconies, and swim from tunnels that open into the lake. “Where are we?” I ask. Selene smiles softly. “Valhalla.” “Ho-ly shit,” I whisper, spinning to take it all in again. No wonder it looks like something out of legend—some of the first legends were probably based on this. Thor puffs up a bit, and I remember this place is his home. Where his father rules, and where Thor and his brothers help run things. No wonder he looks proud. Selene beams up at him, love pouring from her eyes. It’s the same light I see between mated pairs. I’m happy for her. She deserves that kind of bond too.

Saga was driving my car; I was curious—I’d never asked Saga in detail about Kaelith. “Saga, do you remember my business partner, Mr Kael Morveth?” Saga, who was driving, simply glanced at me through the wing mirror. “Yes, I remember, Miss.” “He has red hair like yours and beautiful hazel eyes, doesn’t he?” I asked again. Saga didn’t answer straight away; he seemed to be thinking. His silence made me suspect he knew something. “Saga?” The man startled slightly, then glanced back briefly. “No, Miss, he has black hair,” he replied, before refocusing on the driving.