Dreams of a Dark Warrior

information for the taking …
    “I’m supposed to be facing him right now, but you have me locked up here!” She drew her lips back from her small fangs, reminding him of what she was. “Because of you, Chase, the world is teetering on the brink of apocalypse, immortals
and
mortals in jeopardy.”
    He’d speak with Webb about this, determine a plan of action—
    “So I might not have documented my work with handy trophy pics, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’ve put a
god
on ice two times before, and I’m keen to do it a third!”
    A red film covered his eyes, and he roared,
“Trophy?”
He buzzed Vincente to come get her—before he throttled her. “Get out of my sight.”

TWENTY

    L ate that night, once Declan finally slept, his body was restless, twisting in the sheets, his mind as-sailed by dreams. …
    “What manner of creature are you?” Treves asked the woman before him.
    He’d hoped they’d be enemies no more, and even now she was sidling closer to him.
    “You do not remember me?” In his tent, her face proved even more radiant, her eyes and hair shining like sun-struck amber.
    “I have not met you, had never seen you before this morning.” Except in dreams. Yet as soon as he’d heard her voice, he’d felt a stirring in his chest. “Are you a witch?”
One who’s bespelled me?
    “No. Not a witch.” She removed her swords and cloak, revealing her strange garments—an armored vest of stiffened leather over a fine linen blouse and a kirtle so short that her thighs were visible above her high boots. He swallowed. She had taut, smooth thighs made to cradle a man’s hips. Not that he would know from experience.
    “I am a Valkyrie, an immortal. One of Wóden’scherished daughters.” She said these words as if they should have some meaning to him. “Have you heard of us?”
    “Only myths carried from the lands of the North.” He recalled that the Valkyrie were a type of warrior goddess.
    This female expected him to believe she was one among them. And why shouldn’t he? What else could explain her glowing skin and small fangs, or the pink claws that tipped her delicate fingers?
    He removed one gauntlet to run the backs of his fingers over her high cheekbones, his lids growing heavy. Her skin was impossibly soft. With each touch he marveled that such a female was in his keeping.
My prize, and an earned one.
    His forfeiture of that castle would enrage his king, who had steadily been losing patience with him.
I might have a price on my head already.
No matter. As Treves gazed down at her, he knew she would be worth any consequence.
    And answering to another was a yoke that had never sat easily upon his shoulders anyway. He and his king would come to terms over this.
Or I’ll pluck that crown from his head.
    “You know that I am Treves. What is your name?”
    “They call me Regin the Radiant.”
    “A fitting name,
belle
.” When he tucked a wild braid behind her ear, his eyes widened. The tip was
pointed
. “A Valkyrie’s ear?” He was captivated by this creature, now taking her hand and smoothing the backs of her little claws over his face. “Why do you seem so familiar?” Andhow could he feel half in love with her already? As if he’d fall on his sword should they be parted?
    “We met, ages ago.” She seemed alternately sad and excited, brows drawn one instant, a breathless smile blooming the next. “But if I tell you, you will think me crazed.”
    “No more than I, to have dreamed of a woman I’d never seen.” Ever since he’d come to this castle, he’d been beset with dreams of her.
    “In a past life, you were a berserker, a warrior in Wóden’s guard. You served my father.” She paused, then added, “And you’d planned to wed me.”
    Wed her? He drew even closer. “I do not know who you believe I am, but I will gladly be this man.”
    Her eyes searched his expression as she said, “You were called Aidan the Fierce.”
    Clearly her affections had already been claimed by this Aidan. “Why do you think me him?” She had mistaken Treves for someone else.
I cannot surrender her.
    I
will
not.
    “Your eyes glowed like a berserker’s. And I
sense
it’s you. The fact that you’ve dreamed of me convinces me beyond doubt.” When he cast her a dubious look, she said, “You’ve been re-embodied, your soul housed in another form.”
    Could this be true? Could his soul have lived on from another time?
    From his earliest memories, nightmares of angels and