Master of Miasma (The Valhalla Series) Read Online Free PDF

knew my dad?!”
    The nugget is so precious to my heart that tears bludgeon my eyes into submission again.
    I knew dad would have understood me. I'm nothing like my mother, nothing at all. She blamed me for all his transgressions and ran off with her boyfriend, abandoning me to be raised by old Mrs Carter who had too many cats. I grew up fast and moved out at seventeen. I send her flowers sometimes, but can't gather up the courage to go back for a visit.
    My drink is stolen and warm arms wrap around me, pulling me close, “It's okay, Em. You're home now.”
    It feels so good, so right, I lean in, surrendering weakness.

 
    Chapter 5
     
     
    This is why I've never managed to acclimate to society. I've never managed to fit in, slotting into the big machine that churns children into slaves to the system. I've forever been dissatisfied, yearning for more, in my heart knowing there has to be more. This surely couldn't be 'it'.
    Sobbing out of nowhere, my heart is breaking, my pain having a source, my mind finding closure in this information. Dad was one of them, and I'm a freak.
    He holds me inside sturdy strength and my nose clogs with my surprise tear attack while squashed against a black button. A comforting hand strokes my back and I move to draw air, to sniff, to wipe my tears, to wrestle my mouth out of torment.
    Relaxing his embrace he lets me pull away, fumbling in the bedside table cupboard and unearthing a box of tissues. I bet I know what they're in there for.
    He bursts out laughing and I'm immediately shamed.
    “ Emma, what am I going to do with you?”
    “ Tell me everything about my dad,” I hiccup to bury my thought faux pas.
    Why does my heart hurt so bad?
    He loses the smile, staring into me as if he can see right into my subconscious to examine the pain buried behind the walls.
    “ Emma, I know the world can be a lonely place. For you it's been exceptionally hard, but here no one wishes you harm. Honestly, I swear on my oath that you are with kindred folk. There's no shame in being different. So many are lost in this world, craving to be complete but not knowing where their dissatisfaction stems from, it's normal and we're trying to locate our lost brethren. When your compassion is bigger than a city the pollution wounds it, the crime violates it, and you withdraw, sucking your soul into the space of a tiny seed to preserve it for a season when you can water it without fear. This is your season now, Emma. I will water your soul and show you how magnificent you are when unrestrained by hardened humanity.”
    “ Don't make promises you can't fucking keep,” I mumble through the fourth tissue.
    “ Do I seem like the kind of man who speaks insincerely? I do not jest because you have my mark on your palm, you heard my voice within before you heard it without. I would not abandon you now or play frivolous games with your mind.” He picks up my hand, staring into the palm when he lays it on his lap, softly tracing around the inflamed area of the sigil, “We are more than strangers with a connection, we are destiny now sealed.”
    It shocks me stupid when he lifts my hand and kisses a soft promise onto my palm. Er... awkward... nice, very, but how am I supposed to react to that?
    Hang on.
    Instinct rears its brutal head, firing all cylinders to leap off the bed in one graceful movement without even stepping on my hem. My heart is having a seizure it's pounding with such adrenaline, “What do you mean your mark? You said it was the mark of your clan, of friendship! You lied!”
    My hand is tight over my heart, pressing, I'm quivering again, I just want to flee.
    The moment is crushed and I grip the bedpost for support, panic gonging through my head and slashing my ability to breathe in less than wheezed chokes.
    He hold up both hands in the gesture of pacification, “Calm down. It is the clan mark but each one is personified. That is my mark as much as it is Raven's.”
    Shoving fingers through his hair