by Kendall Grey
Gunnar Magnusson’s lips sink into mine, soft as rose petals across a wisp of satin, and the spinning in my head ceases as fast as it started. There is order in his kiss. Stability. Protectiveness. All the things that were there when he was Sigyn, and more. I feel him burrowing into my bones like welcome sunshine on a cold day. He is everything I could ever want and all I’ll ever need.
I’m vaguely aware of the ocean rising up to lick our feet, but I no longer care. I’m dying exactly the way I was meant to. With him.
A lucky breeze sweeps us toward the rocks, and we land together in a tangle of limbs and parachute strings. I lose my footing, and he falls on top of me. We laugh into each other’s faces. Our lips bump. He kisses me again to the sounds of gently lapping water and rushing breaths.
In this moment, I am his. He is mine. We’re no longer Gunnar Magnusson and Astrid Jones, or Sigyn and Loki, we’re just … us. Whatever “us” means. Two entities without gender or history or hang-ups merged into one complete being.
Never in my hundreds of years have I felt such an intense pull to another person. Not even Angrboda.
“I can’t believe you did it.” I grin, pushing his wild hair out of our faces.
He stares down at me like I’m a box full of treasures and kisses me again. And again. And again.
I lose myself in his eyes, his heart, his soul.
When our lips part, he sits up and pulls me with him. We look around at the world with its ocean waves and twinkling stars and soft breezes and just … breathe.
I’m alive. We’re alive. I lean into the crook of his neck and inhale him.
After a long moment, he lifts an arm to inspect his watch. “It’s three minutes past midnight. You’re still here.”
My heart explodes with joy. “And so are you.”
“Right where I need to be,” he murmurs into my hair.
“Right where I need you to be,” I agree.
“What do you think?” he asks.
“About?”
“About defying fate.”
“It’ll catch up and bite me in the arse eventually.”
“What if fate is a lie the gods tell to keep their worshippers in line?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Why not? You just threw out your middle finger at Skuld. We both did. Don’t eschew the existence of free will in the face of destiny. You control your life, not some old hag peddling bones and false prophesies. We build our own futures, not the Norns or anyone else. We have the power to change our paths.”
I caress the scruff on his cheek. “I was wrong about you.”
“How so?”
“I thought you were weak,” I say, “but you just proved yourself the strongest man I know. I’m sorry for doubting you.”
He blushes and gives me a squeeze. “So, what will our next adventure be, Loki Laufeyjarson?”
“A trip to the set of Asgard Awakening if Freddie and Darryl Donovan have any say in the matter.”
“I’ve never been on TV before,” Gunnar Magnusson says, getting up.
“Me neither.” I accept his offered hand and stand too. We’re both soaked to the bone, and I’m certain the bruises I sustained when we hit the rocks will leave me spotted like a leopard tomorrow morning. But I’m alive.
I’m alive!
I help Gunnar Magnusson gather the parachute. We ball it and shove it into the backpack as best as we can.
Palms clasped, we navigate the rocks under the cover of invisibility and head toward land.
“I have to return the gear to the guy I rented it from,” Gunnar Magnusson says as we climb. “He’s supposed to be waiting at the Welcome Center. Darryl should be there too. It’ll only take a few minutes.”
I let out a gust of breath when our feet return to solid ground. I’m so happy to be alive, I could piss myself. “You mind if I stay here for a few minutes?” I ask. “I want to take in the beauty of San Francisco from this viewpoint.”
He smiles. “Sure. I’ll send Darryl down to keep you company if I see him.”
I wave him away, stretch, and inhale the salty air.
“Surprised?” a voice says behind me.
Skuld.
I turn around slowly, suddenly worried that the time on Gunnar Magnusson’s watch was off by a few minutes. “Yes,” I admit.
She ambles over, oblivious to the wind tangling her long black locks. “I didn’t say which Tuesday.”
I crack a smile. “Of course. Leave the day dangling over my head so I can worry every week whether this will be my last. Classic you. And a great way to keep me on a short leash.”
“Leash sounds so … restrictive,” she says. “I prefer to think of it in terms of leeway.”
“Even a gilded cage is still a cage.”
“You intrigue me, Loki. You make me want to bend ancient rules. I find you … refreshing.”
“I’m not glad I could amuse you,” Sannleikur forces me to say.
Skuld laughs and meets my gaze. “Enjoy your life, Loki, son of Laufey. Live every day like it’s Tuesday.” Her form shimmers and fades like smoke from a blown-out candle.
“Loki,” Darryl Donovan calls. “You made it.”
I smile and swivel my head to find him walking toward me. As I rush to greet him, the sky behind him ignites with sharp red and orange slashes. A guttural roar of thunder follows a second later, prickling my skin with goosebumps. My smile crashes.
“Glad to see you in one piece,” Darryl Donovan says, apparently oblivious to the electricity in the air.
Another threatening zigzag slices open the night, this one closer, its echoing thunder answering instantly. The wind picks up, spinning, sloshing, thrashing. Darryl Donovan lifts his head, looking around. “What the hell?”
On the third crack, an explosion of brightness rends a hole in the sky, throwing lightning bolts like shooting stars, blinding me. I lift an arm to shield my eyes. Then I hear it.
Behind me, horse hooves—too many to be one horse—clop over the pavement.
Too many for most horses, Laguz corrects.
The blood drains from my face.
Sleipnir. My eight-legged son. And where he goes, Odin goes.
Darryl Donovan and I exchange worried looks.
“Run!” I scream at him. But it’s too late.
We both turn in slow motion. Every hair on my body bristles at the current electrifying the air. Darryl Donovan’s amber eyes widen. My stomach lurches.
Sleipnir gallops toward us, eight hooves sparking as they pound the ground, wild mane whipping in the frenzied wind. Wearing his original visage, a smug Odin straddles his back, Mjolnir crackling with static in his right hand and the rune he stole from me that I stole from him glowing in the right. Muninn perches on the old man’s shoulder. His victorious grin tells me everything I need to know.
Odin lifts the charged, blue-lit rune and brandishes the hammer, holding it straight out, perpendicular to the ground, in offering. He narrows his luminous blue eye on Darryl Donovan and smiles. “It’s been a while. I’ve missed you, son.”
Holy. Thunderfuck.
Acknowledgments
Sometimes, when you least expect it, magical people sneak into your life, wave their wands, and change everything. Author David Michael is one such a magician. He’s the Freddie to my Loki. Or maybe he’s the Loki to my Freddie. Whoever he is, he gets shit done. David has pushed the Asgard Awakening series on everyone he’s ever met in his entire life. The man pimps Loki like a fiend, and I adore him for it.
David asked me to participate in the Live Literately Literacy Summit (visit liveliterately.org for info) last year. I gladly accepted his invitation and had a blast signing books and meeting new readers in Salt Lake City. After the event, David invited everyone to a funny, sexy, jaw-dropping drag show. Y’all, that show changed my life. The energy, the camaraderie, the passion—it blew me away. It also gave me ideas. David and his drag queen friends are the reason Loki’s buddies became drag queens. I can’t tha
nk them enough.
Emma Rider at Moonstruck Cover Design & Photography, your glorious Asgard Awakening book covers and series branding make me do the happy dance. Thank you for your talent, patience, and vision.
Though I whipped up a lot of the drag queen monikers in DRAGGED myself, several names in this book were inspired by other people. High fives and hugs to Alex Bladowski for inventing Morgan LeSlay and Freida Knutts; Smokie DeeGee for Shay-Shay LeTigre (effing perfect for Thor!); and Shannon Lumetta for Lula Fromage. Cheers to all of you for sharing your wit and allowing me to use these clever names.
My alpha and beta readers fixed so many things in DRAGGED. The differences between the first draft and the final one are like night and day. Huge thanks to Heather Ambrose, Tina Bailey, Diane McElrath, Marsha McNeese, David Michael, Jessica Olson, Christina Spicer, Rachel Walter, and Joette Woods. You made this book a million times better. I’m kissing your feet from afar. You guys are the best!
Props to Nancy Doublin, Jaime Elaine, and Missy Piatt VanDerMallie for their help with the promotional side of things and for continued moral support. Always appreciated!
My family’s love and support are the air I breathe. As always, thanks to my husband Greg (aka Resident Geek), my Demonlings Rain and River, and especially my transgender son Rowan, who inspired Loki and the whole Asgard Awakening series. I love you all.
Finally, thank YOU, dear reader, for coming along on Loki’s adventure. You’re the reason I write. Stay tuned for FOOLED, the fourth and final installment of Asgard Awakening, coming soon.
About the Author
A whale warrior, indie freedom fighter, and vodka martini aficionado, Kendall Grey is calm like an F-bomb*. She writes about fierce women and the men who love them. Her aliases include Kendall Day (FALLING FOR MR. SLATER) and Seven Slade (COMING OUT).
Kendall lives off a dirt road near Atlanta, Georgia, with three mischievous Demonlings, a dashing geek in cyber armor, a long-haired miniature Dachshund that thinks she's a cat, and an Aussie shepherd mix whose ice-blue eyes will steal your heart and hold it for ransom.
*Detonation manual not included.
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Also by Kendall Grey
Asgard Awakening Series
Runed (Also available in audiobook from Audible and Apple Books)
Gilded (Also available in audiobook from Audible and Apple Books)
Dragged
Fooled (coming soon!)
Just Breathe Series
Inhale
Exhale
Just Breathe
’Ohana Series
Hot-Blooded
Cold-Blooded
Half-Blooded (coming soon)
Hard Rock Harlots Series
Strings (Also available in audiobook from Audible and Apple Books)
Beats (Also available in audiobook from Audible and Apple Books)
Nocturnes
Rock
Bang
Standalones
Alpha Prez and the First Lady’s Secret Weapon
Ghosts
For signed copies of Kendall’s books, please visit the Howling Mad Press bookstore
From Howling Mad Press
Falling for Mr. Slater by Kendall Day
Coming Out by Seven Slade