The Valkyrie’s Shadow (Sigrid and The Valkyries) by Tiana Warner

Author:Tiana Warner [Warner, Tiana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: valkyries, norse gods, norse mythology, magic, flying horses, princess, royalty, lost princess, sapphic, f/f, queer, LGBTQ, lesbian, romance, mythical creatures, horses, vikings, warrior women, Canadian author, Young Adult, teen, coming of age, fantasy, war, YA, YA fantasy, YA mythology, teen fantasy, queer romance, lesbian romance, w/w, chaos, Loki, Sleipnir, nine worlds, Teen & Young Adult Fantasy Action & Adventure, Teen & Young Adult Gay & Lesbian Fiction, Teen & Young Adult Friendship Fiction, Teen & Young Adult Girls & Women Fiction, Teen & Young Adult LGBT eBooks, Teen & Young Adult Romance eBooks, The Valkyrie’s Daughter, Tiana Warner, Entangled Teen, Single Title Fiction, YA Fantasy, Young Adult Fantasy, Teen Fantasy novel, Young Adult Fantasy Series, Young Adult YA Epic Fantasy, F/F Young Adult Book, Sapphic Romance, Teen Sapphic Novel, Sapphic novel, Lesbian Romance, Teen Romance, Valkyries, Norse mythology, mythology, winged mares, Norse gods, Vanaheim, Helheim, Odin, Thor, Hel, lgbtq, teen romance, horse riders, warrior girls, slow burn romance, reluctant allies, enemies to lovers, adventure, quests, young adult romance, young adult adventure, night elves, light elves, The Valkyrie’s Shadow by Tiana Warner, The Valkyrie’s Shadow
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2023-07-24T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Four

A Familiar Sensation

Standing outside of Sleipnir’s stall, it was hard to tell if Sigrid’s frantic heartbeat was from her own nervousness or the stallion’s strange power already reaching for her.

I can do this. I’ve controlled him before, and I can do it again.

As she unlatched the door with steady hands, he watched her closely, head high, nostrils flaring. The stable hands had thoroughly groomed him until he glistened like silver. A new black saddle accented his black mane and tail, along with a freshly polished steel breastplate and fur-lined boots around his eight legs.

He tossed his head impatiently.

Is he waiting for me to untie him so he can explode out of the barn?

Sigrid took a deep breath and let it out, putting on her helmet. Her mind was clear, her hands steady. Now if I could just stay this way.

Sleipnir behaved as she removed the muzzle and smoothed the hair on his face. His abnormal heat seeped through her gloves, making her pulse quicken to match his. He pawed a front hoof as she put on the crystal-studded bridle. She would have laughed it off if it were Hestur, but the stallion’s bottled-up energy wound her nerves tighter.

Leading him from the barn and into the courtyard went smoothly. She tossed the reins over his head, her heart pounding faster and faster.

“Good boy,” she said, grateful he was cooperating.

So far, so good. Nothing left to do but get on.

With the golden barn doors at her back and an empty stretch of courtyard in front of her, she led him alongside the carved stump used to help riders mount up and put her foot in the stirrup.

Her heart pounded faster and faster, making her breaths come quickly.

Do it. If he acts up, I can jump off.

Holding her breath, she swung her leg over his back.

The moment her legs closed over his ribs, a familiar awareness surged through her. Sleipnir tensed, his ears turned back to listen, ready to do whatever she asked.

The last time this sensation overtook her, she’d been leading the valkyries over a landscape of red, lava-flecked sand. That adrenaline had been like nothing she’d experienced, coming out in a roar as they burst through the gates of Hel on what could have been a one-way journey. Now, the ghost of it trickled back.

Sleipnir tossed his head and pawed the cobblestones. She breathed into his anticipation, the sensation dousing her like a hot bath.

This stallion was created by the gods and trained to win any fight. He’d known lifetimes of victory under Odin and had spent the time since then wandering the nine worlds, waiting for his heir. All of that power and purpose pulsed through him, rising into Sigrid’s legs, abdomen, and chest. There, it swelled in time with his pulse.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

Pressure built inside her, crimson, warm, like blood flowed in and had nowhere to go.

Sigrid vibrated, as ready as the war horse beneath her—ready for charging, fighting, leading.

Her senses sharpened, the chirping barn swallows behind her

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