Valkyrie's Conquest by Sharon Ashwood Page B

was deep enough to send a shiver through her bones, reminding her again of the thunder god.
    She gripped her sword a fraction tighter, fighting the pressure of his fingers. “I am Tyra of the Valkyrie, daughter of Odin Allfather.”
    She waited for his look of awe, for surely all had heard of Odin, almighty king of the northern gods of Asgard. But the dragon showed curiosity, nothing more. “I am Bron of the Flameborn dragon clan,” he replied.
    A dragon! Against her better judgment, Tyra took a second look. He was as tall and broad as any warrior, his hair dark and his features cleanly carved. He stood like the prow of a warship—proud, direct, and stern. Her whole body tingled as if lightning were about to strike.
    Dragons meant fire—one of the few things that could kill her kind. Tyra thrust against him, freeing herself as she stumbled back. The Allfather had granted her only the barest trace of emotions when he made her. She wasn’t sure if it was fear she felt, or something else.
    â€œI asked you to step away.” Thankfully, her voice sounded as cool and steady as her blade. “I have a job to do. Do not interfere.”
    â€œAnswer my questions first.”
    She drew back again, wanting an extra few feet to compose herself. Her wrist throbbed. “What questions?”
    â€œWhat do you want with this man’s soul?” He pointed to the figure at his feet.
    This time she let her tone grow arctic. “I mean to rescue him from death. You’re stopping me.”
    Bron gave a long, slow blink. His eyes were a startling shade of amber, like gems in firelight. “Are you telling me the truth?”
    â€œOf course. That is what Valkyries do. We gather the spirits of slain heroes and take them to our father’s feast hall. But if you interfere much longer, the soul will fly to the realms of the dead before I can take it.”
    The dragon seemed to weigh her words for a long moment, but finally stepped aside. “Then save him.”
    As if she needed his permission! But Tyra swallowed her retort and wasted no time. Catching her lip between her teeth, she bent over the fallen man and reached into the dying man’s chest to take hold of his soul. With a twinge of satisfaction she felt it, tingling and vibrant. For an instant she experienced flashes of the man’s life—the joy of laughing children, the exhilaration of his first ride on a motorcycle, the urgency of lovemaking for the first time.
    She glanced up. Bron was watching her with wide eyes, and heat burned her cheeks once more. To keep the Valkyries obedient, the Allfather had denied them a soul, along with all the useless, turbulent emotions that would distract them from their work. But now, while she was in direct contact with a human’s spirit, Tyra could feel everything. She had noticed Bron from the moment he’d arrived—more than any male she’d ever met—but now she experienced the full force of his presence. Her gaze wandered up and down his frame, wondering what hidden gifts his dragon nature had bestowed. A new type of ache, liquid and honeyed, began to pool in her belly, as sweet as it was disturbing.
So this is what it is to want a man!
    But there was one more memory left in the dying man’s soul. Tyra rocked back with the harsh surprise of a bullet tearing through flesh. Terror flooded her, souring her mouth. Pain lit her every nerve with the echo of his agony. Such loss and heartbreak! With a gasp, she gave one last pull, collecting the soul before its touch overwhelmed her.
    The soul came away easily, though it struggled to escape the moment her sword severed the shining tether that bound spirit to body. Tyra panted hard from the rush of conflicting, unfamiliar emotions.
    â€œWhat have you done?” Bron demanded. “I don’t see anything.”
    â€œJust wait and watch.” A jumble of shyness and confusion galloped through Tyra, leaving her skin