Valkyrie's Sacrifice: Paranormal Romance (Academy of the Immortals Book 3)

by Angel Lawson

  I don’t know who does what. I don’t know who removed my dress and then my panties. I do feel the brush of Rupert’s long hair as it tickles my skin. I feel the strength in Armin’s hands as he kneads my muscles. I blush against the smile, the laugh of Marshal's mouth as he whispers dirty things in my ears, arousing my mind as fast as my loins. I sense edginess from Luke, new to this—to us—taking it all in, while making sure I’m comfortable. I already know the feel of his kisses, the softness of his touch. He’s younger, less experienced, but very, very eager.

  The four of them tease and taunt, pinch and pull. Fingers dip between my legs, sliding between the folds. I cry out when I’m entered, a mouth circles my breast, a tongue pushes into my mouth, a thumb rubs tiny circles, over and over and over until the ripple of pleasure, the current of electricity crackles down my skin, across my nerves and through my body until I quiver and writhe on the table, chasing for more.

  Transcendent.

  That’s the word I’m searching for.

  Gods, this is transcendent. Otherworldly, and as another moan floats from my mouth, exhaling all the euphoric tension in my body.

  Even having my needs met, something is missing.

  Agis.

  I sense the God of Death more than anything else. Hovering around the peripheral. Pacing like an animal, growing more and more hungry by the minute.

  “I need you,” I whisper, lifting on my elbows. “Please.”

  There’s no doubt who I’m asking for—who I want. The others…we’ve sealed our bond. But Agis, I need him inside of me. I open my eyes and see him at the end of the table, pants loosened, cock pushing against the fine fabric of his pants. The ministrations of the others haven’t stopped, no, they just grow more heated, making me wetter, hungrier, hornier.

  For once, he doesn’t make me wait.

  He tears off his shirt, then pushes down his pants, his cock springs free and it’s the first time I’ve seen him, all of him, without the cloak of a glamour. He isn’t hiding himself anymore. Not from me, not from the others, not from himself.

  He grabs my hips and drags me down the table, sending glasses shattering to the floor. His mouth crashes to mine, hands cradling my face. His tongue licks, his teeth nip. I run my hands down his chest, feeling the hard muscle, and push my core against him.

  I think he’ll take me there, that he’ll claim me on the edge of the table, but he pulls me all the way off and spins me around. I gasp as I’m bent forward, hands splayed on the table. I hear a growl rumble in his chest, as his cock glides between my legs. My eyes are open, the four others watching closely. Their clothes are rumpled, cheeks flushed, foreheads coated in sweat. Agis wants them to watch as he takes me, and gods, I want them to, too.

  He teases me for a moment longer, my legs weak from the prior orgasm. A dark, expansive shadow eclipses the light in the room. I glance back and see the wide arc of his black wings, consuming the space. My winged lover is here, and I am desperate for him to possess me. He runs a heavy hand down my back and lifts my hips, then enters me swiftly.

  The motion causes me to swallow my breath, but once I adjust to him, I exhale and relax, falling further forward. I make eye contact with the others; their jaws tight, their cocks pressing at the front of their pants, their eyes glazed. Marshal is the one who falls to his seat first, lazily reaching for himself. Agis' fingers tighten at my hips, pulling me flush against his body. My eyes flick to Rupert, who has also dipped his hand below his waist band. Armin leans back in his seat watching me closely, gaze falling to my exposed breasts. His jaw tenses and when I lick my bottom lip, he caves, running his hand down his length.

  The only one that doesn’t reach for himself is Luke, who’s standing on the opposite side of the table. As Agis builds a rhythm, entering and retreating, slow and then faster, the Nephilim’s hands lay flat on the table and his wings expand from his back. They’re pristine, white against the dark of the room, bathing all of us in pure light. I don’t know what it means, but it’s warm and powerful and it feels good, just like Agis feels good burying himself in me, just like how knowing the sight of me with Agis makes the Immortals want me more. We’re one. We’re unified. We’re—

  “Oh G-g-g-gods,” I stutter, the word lodged in my throat. I want to scream, cry, and shout, but nothing intelligible comes out. My orgasm rips through me, shuddering and complete, followed closely by the feral roar of Agis behind me. I don’t dare close my eyes, I want to see the others as they come, their tense jaws and scrunched noses. Their teeth buried in their bottom lips and their pants that come to a sudden halt. It doesn’t happen in unison—more like dominoes. My fall starts the wave, and in the end we’re nothing more than a group of sweaty immortals made stronger by the intimacy of the moment.

  Later, much later, I give each of the men a kiss, encouraging them to sleep before the trial. I know I need some time to collect my thoughts—my wits, really. One by one the Immortals vanish into their rooms, eyes glazed from pleasure, until it’s just me and Luke. Outside my door, I grab his hand, threading his fingers with mine.

  “What was that?” I ask, not sure how to put it into words. He tilts his head in question. “When you spread your wings and that light? The warmth. What was it?”

  He scratches his forehead then pushes his pale hair out of his eyes. “I’m not sure,” he replies. “All of this is new to me, and I certainly don’t know how to control it but,” he swallows, “like the others, I was consumed with desire. Pure lust, but underneath that I just had the most overwhelming urge to protect you—to protect all of us.”

  The warmth I felt from his wings flickers in my heart.

  “From your father?”

  His eyes darken. “Yes.”

  “Are you worried about tomorrow?”

  “I am. He’s…complicated. Powerful. Determined.”

  “Sounds a little like you.”

  He gives me a tight smile. “It sounds a little like all of us.”

  “Well,” I say, running a hand up his arm and cupping the back of his neck, “I’m not scared. I believe that your father is formidable, but we’ve done everything we can to beat him. We survived the circles, we found one another, we’re bonded.”

  “If anyone can beat my father and save the world, Valkyrie, it’s you.” He leans down and gives me a soft kiss. “Good night, Hildi.”

  “Good night, Luke.”

  We hold one another’s eyes for a beat longer before we part. I enter my room alone and lean against the door. Tomorrow will be the end of this. We’ll defeat Lucifer and go home. I know that for certain. That’s not what nags at my chest.

  What I don’t know for sure, is what happens when we leave this place, when we’re no longer fighting in this fight, when we go back to Morgan and the Guardians?

  That scares me more than facing the King of Hell.

  37

  Hildi

  How hard I slept is a testimony of how worn out I was after days of travel and fighting, after that “dinner” with the immortals. I wake, surprisingly refreshed, and notice the outfit hanging on the back of my door. My old dirty and destroyed clothes are gone, as well as the dress I’d worn last night. Well, worn for a little while. I stare at the new outfit for a long moment, processing what’s really going on. It’s a uniform—a basic top and bottom. I shrug it on, and a strange feeling builds in the pit of my stomach. It’s only accentuated when I hear the knock at the door.

  I step out and see a well-armed guard, then seven more as they stand outside my allies' rooms. They’re each dressed the same way; like criminals.

  We have no weapons, no fighting gear, nothing but the summons Lucifer sent to us at the beginning of this journey. If I’ve learned anything from the circles of hell, there’s no way around it—there’s just through it.

  Today we go to court.

  We’re marched from our housing, lined up like school children. I’m in the lead, as I should be. I am the leader of this group. It’s why I came. To keep them focus
ed. Only the gods knew how much of a challenge that would be. As we walk down the marble stairs toward the street, a warm, sticky heat rolls up from the ground. The scent of sulfur coats my nostrils and I think about how much we’d been through to get to this point. From childish, teenage games at the Academy, the lessons and secrets, the bullying and harassment at Victorine’s hands. I’d had to tame and corral each and every Immortal. Fight through their personal demons so that they could fight one more battle as a unified front. After this they’re free to live their lives in peace. If we get out of here alive, that is.

  The street is lined with residents of the City of Dis. If they were once human, it’s no longer possible to tell. Their faces are twisted, their jaws wide. Many have pointed teeth and serpent tongues and clawed, sharp nails.

  We walk past them toward an imposing building. It’s dark like everything else—an ebony castle. Ornate iron gates swing open as we approach, and we climb a different set of steps, seemingly never ending. The muscles in my thighs start to quiver, exhausted from the climb. I push on, one more step, one more step, one more—

  We reach the top.

  I glance back and see my allies, each struggling with the stairs. Elizabeth and Darius are right behind me. The fairy's cheeks are flushed as she takes it one laborious step at a time. Darius keeps a steady pace, his dark eyes absorbing everything carefully. I have to assume that if he hasn’t shifted, then he can’t. That our abilities are contained in this place.

  Behind him, Agis’ face is drawn tight, his eyes narrowed and focused on me. Rupert seems lost in his mind, calculating, surveying, strategizing. Armin takes in everything; every door, every person, every opportunity. And Marshal? Marshal looks like he hasn’t a care in this gods-forsaken place. Whatever he’s really thinking, whatever he really fears, he’s tucked it deep inside.

  At the back is Luke. His wings tucked away. His jaw tight. He doesn’t look at me. He doesn’t look at anyone. Facing his father…well, it will be worse for him than any of us.

  Once we’re all at the top, the guards continue down a long hall with ceilings two stories high. Paintings line the wall, each one darker and more twisted than the last. They depict the King of Hell ruling the Lowerworld. It’s chilling and disturbing. It’s also a reminder about why we’re here and what’s at stake.

  At the end of the hall are two massive statues that flank another iron door. The face on one statue—I’ve seen before. In the temple, well, and in his son’s features. It’s Lucifer. The opposite is a horrifying goat-faced demon. Horns protrude from his head and his feet are cloven. Etched into the bottom are the numbers 666. It’s then that I glance between the two, realizing they are one and the same. Lucifer’s human face as well as his demon one.

  My breath catches, and I tear my eyes from the hooved creature. If we have to face the demon one…I’m not sure I’ll have the strength.

  That, and all other thoughts vanish as we enter the courtroom. It was warm outside, but as I enter the room it becomes insufferable. Brimstone wafts from massive firepits surrounding the room, but the center focus of the court is a lavish throne.

  No.

  Not the throne.

  The man sitting in the throne.

  He’s in his human form and for a moment I gasp, shocked at how much Luke looks like him. It’s uncanny and makes my stomach twist uncomfortably.

  “Holy shit,” Elizabeth mutters behind me. At what exactly, I’m not sure. It could be anything; the throne, the fires, the King of Hell preening down at us with a fucking crown on his head. “Look in the cage.”

  Cage?

  My eyes drop to the metal cage, built with spikes pointing inward and out. Curled into a ball inside is a figure, skin covered in oozing puncture wounds. He lifts his face and I see him, truly see him, in the flickering light.

  It’s Roland.

  Without minding my place, I blurt, “I thought he worked for you. Why is he a prisoner?”

  Lucifer laughs, bold and rumbling. It shakes the walls of the court.

  “Welcome, Valkyrie, I’ve heard so much about you.”

  I lift my chin as my allies are lined up next to me. Elizabeth remains on one side. Marshal on the other. We’re flanked by Immortals.

  “Do you know what this court is about?” he asks me.

  “I assume it’s where you condemn the souls sent to you from across the realms.”

  His eyebrow lifts. “Not entirely un-true, but this specific court is for trying Heretics. The non-believers. Roland didn’t believe in me, he believed in himself and himself alone. That’s a grave violation, and he’s being punished accordingly.”

  “Then why are we here?” Agis asks.

  “Because everyone that travels through the circles must pass through this court. Prove their allegiance to me.”

  Rupert clears his throat. I look down the line and see his red hair shining in the firelight, a deep frown on his face. “We may not worship you, but I think everyone standing before you believes in you and your power. Is that enough to clear our case?”

  Seems too easy to be true. The grin on Lucifer’s face confirms this.

  “You are believers in my power, but you believe in something more than me, more than the other gods that rule the realms.” His black eyes pin on me. “You all worship at the feet of the Valkyrie.” His statement shocks me, but not one of my allies protests. Lucifer continues, “Unfortunately for Roland, he didn’t believe in you either. But it doesn’t matter. To stop me you had to come to me whole. Five Immortals plus the Valkyrie. You’re one short.”

  Confirmation. That’s what he just gave me, that the key to all of this was the balance of the Guardians. Five, plus one. I jerk my eyes to his. “We have those numbers. We re-created the balance. Miya,” I swallow the pain that follows his name. “We replaced him.”

  Every eye shifts to Luke, who stands nearest to Roland’s cage. He’d come through for us so many times. He led us through the circles, gave us guidance, and ultimately filled the gaping hole left in our group. But right now, I don’t see that person. I don’t see the man that brought us together, that I made love to, that I bonded with.

  I see the face of a boy afraid of his father.

  “Luke,” his father calls, pride shining in his eyes, “you have exceeded all of my expectations. You infiltrated a group of highly trained warriors, pushed past their defenses and gained their trust.” Lucifer nods to one of the guards to hand him a sheathed blade. He holds it out, the engraved metal glinting. The already sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach knots tighter and bile pushes up my throat. I know that sword. Marshal stiffens next to me. He knows, too. “A gift, for your loyalty.”

  Luke steps forward and reaches for the sword. Before he touches it, I grind out, “Don’t. Don’t do this Luke. Don’t you dare take Miya’s sword.”

  Lucifer laughs and nods to his son. “Kill him.”

  None of us know who “him” is and the Immortals shift defensively. I know that if they could use their abilities, Agis would have flown out of here, and Armin would have used his telekinesis to shatter this place. From the tight set of Marshal’s jaw, I know it’s killing him that he can’t talk us out of here. We’re stuck, stunned, no one able to move as Luke moves fluidly, the katana unsheathed with one hand and wielded by the other. I close my eyes as the blade swings and flinch when I hear the unmistakable thud of a head hitting the stone floor over the pounding of my heart.

  I force my eyes open, fear heightened in every nerve, and see Roland’s head inches from my feet.

  “Don’t worry,” Lucifer says, “you’re next and when you fall, the final barriers into your realm will fall, and my domination will prevail. I’ll do it with my son by my side, our power unparalleled.”

  “Luke,” I say, “No. Please.”

  He has to feel something, right? His blue eyes seem darker by the moment. He grips the blade while blood drips from the edge. The man I knew, that I loved—he’s lost—if I ever had him.

  Lu
cifer stands, his body framed by the elaborate throne. “The first thing we’ll do is find the Guardians, who dared ignore their summons to the Academy. There’s no escaping this fight. I’ll rip that baby from the Morrigan’s belly and massacre each and every one of those foul shifters. They can join you in limbo for eternity. Once you’re gone, Hell will consume your earth and I will be King to more than just this realm, but to all of them.”

  Despite my pride and anger, I cast a plea toward Luke. He refuses to meet my eyes. His hands are now coated in Roland’s blood, his jaw lifted and sure. He looks regal, right at home by his father’s side.

  Lucifer waves his hand and his son walks forward, holding Miya’s katana as if it was his own.

  “You fell for it,” I say through clenched teeth, “you did exactly what your father wanted. He’s sacrificed you, and you don’t even see it. You’re his pawn. His toy. Do you really think he’ll give you power? Or is he just too scared to fight me and the Immortals himself.” Something flickers in his eyes; anger? Hate? Fear? I push on. “You may get one of us—maybe two—but before we’re all dead you will be, too. You heard him, he said you ‘exceeded’ his expectations. He didn’t think you could do it. I doubt he does now, either.”

  “Silence!” Luke roars, his face contorting into something feral and demonic. For the first time, I see the devil in him and a chill runs down my spine.

  “Kill the bitch,” Lucifer mutters, but I see the fear in his eyes. He knows I’m right. Luke will not survive once he goes up against Agis and Armin. He will not survive me. “Kill her first.”

  Luke clenches his fists, rage pulsing off his body. The walls tremble, shaking from an invisible force. Lucifer tilts his head, unsure as the rest of us about what’s about to happen. The katana swings through the air, light flashing off the blade that hits my eye, blinding me. I brace myself for the cut, the pain, the numbness of death. It doesn’t come, instead I feel the glow of warmth—not the heat of Hell. Marshal flinches next to me, his hand reaching out for mine. Elizabet cries and buries her head. The blast is all powerful, all consuming, and it fills my belly with the warm spread of contentment. I felt it the night before. I feel it now as everyone is frozen in place. Everyone, except Luke, who swings the blade, splattering Roland’s blood across the floor, and stabs it through his father’s heart.