Kresley Cole: Dreams of a Dark Warrior

Declan began tracing the backs of his fingers up and down her arm. “What did you and Nïx talk about today?”

“I again tried to get her to explain Lothaire’s ‘unbreakable ties’ comment. But she gave me nothing.” Regin hadn’t paid much attention to the vamp when he’d warned her of a connection between him and Declan. Now, she was jonesing to know the fine print.

And both she and Declan wondered what Lothaire’s open-ended vow would entail.

“I don’t feel tied to him,” he said. “If I did I might be able to find him—then I could kill him, just to ease your mind. …”

The vampire remained a specter in the background, bent on getting that ring, which meant he’d be hunting Commander Webb next. With Declan’s memories, the vampire could locate Webb’s home, could circumvent every security measure. Though Declan had said nothing, Regin had sensed conflict in him. She’d suggested he call the man and give him a heads-up, and then they’d be even for Webb saving his life.

The conversation had been rife with tension, but in the end Webb had said, “I told the Order that you died on the island. And I’ll stick to that, but only if you stand down against our mission.”

Declan had replied, “You told me I was either on your side or theirs. You were right. Harm any among my allies, and I’ll retaliate.”

With that, she’d known he’d shaken away the last of the brainwashing and had come back into the fold, her born-again Lorean.

Things weren’t perfect. But damn, they were getting close . …

“Did your sister have any update on who stole my bloody boat?”

“None. Nïx just kept calling it the Love Boat. Today she sang that it ‘promises something for everyone.’ Hey, we didn’t need it anyway.”

“But they took my boat,” he grumbled.

Regin gave a laugh. “You are such a … a berserker .” When she turned over on her front to rest her chin on her hands, his shaft pulsed beneath her. “Already?” she murmured with delight.

He grinned down at her, treating her to that breathtaking smile. Over the last month, he’d even begun laughing with her, her own personal captive audience to entertain.

“It’s your own fault for being irresistible. And I am a berserker through and through, possessive of everything that’s mine.” His hands trailed down to cup her ass. “Admit it, you’ve got to be relieved I’m no’ a vampire.”

She shook her head. “I would’ve taken you any way I could get you, boyo.”

“And if you’d given me leave to, lass, I’d have come back for you a thousand times.”

“Luckily”—she leaned up, brushing her lips against his—“the fifth time’s a charm. …”

Hark! Here closes this tale, the legend of Declan the Fierce and Reginleit the Radiant One, a pair of lovers bound and blessed by fate.

It ends, as many legends do, with a destined marriage—this one between a Valkyrie whose long wait was rewarded and a warrior whose yearning was at last fulfilled.

Theirs is a tale of joy and bounty. Be of ease and listen on. …

With a consuming love for his lady guiding him heart and soul and Wóden’s mark tattooed upon his chest, Declan became a friend to the Lore, a champion of the gods … and eventually a doting father.

Filled with hope and a secret certainty that she was Wóden’s favorite, Regin became one of the most powerful Valkyrie ever to live, a mistress of her own fate who laughed in the face of adversity … and eventually a mother who plagued her children with pranks.

Cherishing Regin endlessly, Declan never left her side again, her immortal match. Perhaps his hubris was forgiven, the Reaper’s dark scythe stilled forever.

All he knows is that his Valkyrie’s kiss is sweet, their children’s laughter a balm to his soul.

Whatever may be the case, to this day, Reginleit runs into his arms.

To this day, Declan clasps her close to his chest, gazing at the sky. In thanks. …