by S. T. Bende
“Asgard, like home. Get inside, Ahlström. You and I need to talk.” I gestured toward the house.
Jason fell into step beside his sister and muttered, “You ever been there?”
“They said I wasn’t allowed,” Mia hissed back.
She wasn’t. Neither of them were. But with the worlds at war, I couldn’t think of anywhere else they’d be safe.
And I wasn’t risking either of the Ahlströms’ lives again. Not when so much depended on both of them.
**
“Jesus Christ, Freya. You saved my life out there.” Jason stood in front of the window, shaking his head.
“It was nothing.” I crossed to the fireplace. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“It was not nothing. Hell, is that what you guys do? Fight monsters like the blue chick, and nearly get yourselves killed?” He ran one hand through his hair.
“Some days,” I admitted. “Other days we do…less exciting things.”
Jason’s awed expression hadn’t changed since we’d walked into the cabin. Mia was upstairs packing an evacuation bag, while Elsa had blurred to her cabin and retrieved one of her own. Now she was upstairs, prepping the man cave for our next task. I had only minutes before we’d need to extract the ketane, call for Heimdall, and Bifrost to the security of the valkyrie compound. But before I could relinquish the darkness Hel had forced into me, I had to release at least a portion of the darkness I’d forced upon myself. It had taken me a while to figure it out, a fact that caused no small amount of mortification, but I’d finally realized there was no mortal match waiting for Jason in Arcata. The reason my brain lit up like a marquee whenever he was around was because he was my match—nobody else’s. The subsidiary Norns couldn’t trace the signal because it wasn’t theirs to service. And keeping so much of myself from the soul who, it turned out, was meant to complement me, was creating a whole new layer of haze around my heart. I’d have to stay on my guard—keep perma-walls erected to avoid putting Jason in a situation that could cost him his life. I would always have to be mindful of the contract that prohibited me from giving my heart away. But I would offer Jason as much of myself as my deal with the Norns allowed…and pray that things worked themselves out from there. It was the only way to keep Jason alive and allow enough love into my heart for Elsa to extract the ketane. I just needed to god up—to lay my cards on the table, and let Jason decide what he wanted to do with them. Then I could go upstairs, let Elsa evict Hel’s poison, and return to Asgard with as much of myself intact as I could physically and spiritually manage. Whatever happened after that would be up to the Norns. And to the warriors and valkyries in whose able hands our future now rested.
Odin help us all.
I walked over to the window, took Jason’s hands in mine, and finally opened up—about how allowing myself to fall in love had nearly cost the worlds everything. About the guilt that I still carried with me, and the fear it might never go away. About the loneliness inherent in identifying perfekt matches, while knowing I might never be granted the privilege of uniting with mine. About my worries of failing the elite team of warriors who depended on my decisions to keep them alive. I told Jason about my unconventional upbringing inside the valkyrie compound—a structure built by Verdandi, Urd, and Skuld with the purpose of not only protecting me, but fortifying me so that one day I’d be strong enough to protect my realm…both as a bringer of light, and a harbinger of death.
And I told Jason about the depth of my love for my family of choice—Tyr, Elsa, Forse, Brynn, Henrik, and now Mia. About how I’d do anything to protect them…including walking away from a shot at my own happily ever after if, Odin forbid, it came down to that.
When I was finished, Jason pulled me into his arms, pressed his palms to my back, and held me in his steady gaze. “Don’t walk away,” he said fiercely. “There has to be a way for us to be together.”
“We can be together,” I reminded him. “I just can’t…”
“You can’t give me your heart. I remember.” Jason lowered his forehead so it rested against my brow. “We’ll just have to share mine.”
As he spoke, Jason slid one hand up my back. He cradled my head and drew it to his, sweeping his nose lightly against mine. A surge of heat shot due south, and my eyelids fluttered closed. Jason’s lips brushed against my cheek, trailing a line to my earlobe. I couldn’t quiet my moan when he nipped at the tender flesh. His lips were absolutely divine. They moved lower, peppering a trail of feather-light kisses along my neck until my nails began to claw at his back. His mouth moved slowly upward, sucking gently at the skin below my jaw. When I started to believe I might actually combust, he pressed his hips against mine and withdrew his lips.
No! Why?
I opened my lids to find him studying me, staring into my eyes as if asking my permission to proceed.
He didn’t have to ask me twice.
My tongue traced my bottom lip, and I pushed my hips harder against his.
With a groan, Jason crushed his lips against mine in a kiss unlike any I’d ever known. It was forceful yet sweet, passionate yet pure, completely in the moment and absolutely…perfekt. It was Jason, expressing his feelings in a way words never could—claiming as much of me as he knew I’d allow, while letting me know there was so very much more he withheld. All I had to do was say the word…
Good gods, I wanted to say the word. This kiss was saturated in such overwhelming intensity, it took everything I had to remember to hold the barrier around my heart; to not completely give myself over to this human and escape into a fog of blissful surrender. But reality nudged at the back of my consciousness, its weight heavy against the lightness of my joy.
Stupid Ragnarok.
I let the kiss go on…and on…and on. Even as my blood heated up, my heart sent continual waves of iced water dancing through my veins, keeping both my hormones and my emotions in check. The organ simply wouldn’t allow me to fully submit to the present moment, an anomaly I could finally attribute to Hel’s unwanted gift. Jason’s arms tightened around me, sending a fresh wave of tingles flooding below my navel. Good gods. His tongue danced along my bottom lip. My blood surged again, and I shifted against him, reveling in the contact.
Ragnarok is coming.
Skit.
I moved to pull away, but Jason groaned and tugged me closer. My knees weakened as his hands moved down, palming my butt and pressing to him.
Get upstairs and get that ketane removed. Now.
With tremendous effort I finally pulled away, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
“That was”—pant—“I mean”—pant, pant—“just wow.”
Jason ran his nose lightly along my jaw, the low rumble of his “mmm-hmm” evoking a wave of delicious shivers.
“I know you have to go,” he murmured. “But I’ll be waiting when you’re done.”
If the end of the worlds hadn’t literally been upon us, I would have demanded Jason take me to his room right then. But things being what they were, I just reached up and pulled his head back to mine for another toe-curling kiss. There would be plenty of time for demanding after we’d saved the worlds. If we managed to come out of Ragnarok alive, things might even be different enough that we could have a real future—one in which rights to my heart reverted fully to me, and I could give all of myself to whomever I chose.
I could barely allow myself the hope.
With a sigh, I turned my attention to Jason, running my fingertips along the planes of his chest. “Stay inside the house, no matter what happens. This won’t take long.”
“Take all the time you need, love.” Jason kissed the tip of my nose. “I’m not going anywhere.”
With tremendous difficulty, I extracted myself from his arms. I made my way toward the stairs, shooting one last look over my shoulder at the mortal I’d only just met, yet could easily imagine building a future alongside. Jason stood in front of the window, his broad shoulders straining against his grey T-shirt, and an easy smile tugging at the lips that h
ad, moments ago, nearly driven me to madness.
I’m not going anywhere.
He had no idea how desperately I hoped his words were true.
**
Tyr would have been horrified had he known his man cave was aglow with pink. I had no clue where Mia and Elsa had procured that many rocks on such short notice, but when I entered the room, thin sheets of pink crystal lined the windows, dangled from the lights, and even covered an entire wall. Massive, cracked rocks with pink, shark tooth-like innards stood in each corner of the room. A creation that looked to be half chandelier, half wind chime, hung from the ceiling.
“Jeez, Else. You don’t mess around.” I lowered myself into the leather chair Mia pointed to, and tried not to gape at the sheer volume of pinkness. “Was this just lying around somewhere?”
“Valkyrie delivery. Came in while you were downstairs. Mia learned ketane’s averse to rose quartz, so…” Elsa didn’t look up from grinding some glowing concoction—pink, of course—in a thick mortar atop the lab table. “Are you and Jason all squared away?”
“All squared away?” I raised an eyebrow. “It’s not a business transaction.”
“You know what I mean.” Elsa sprinkled a sparkling powder into the bowl before walking it over to me.
“Ja. Things are good, considering…” My shoulders rose to my ears. “Well, considering he’s a mortal and I’m, well, me.” A goddess under contract. Possibly forever.
Elsa knelt before me. Her eyes scanned mine, her stare so intense I squirmed. “You look clearer. Good—you’re resolved to release the past. We’ll make this a quickie, not only because you’re you and, frankly, you won’t make it through the prolonged version—”
“Hey!” I protested.
“It’s true. But also, because we are super short on time. Close your eyes.”
I did as I was told, allowing Elsa’s calming presence to fill my space.
“I want you to picture a massive river—one that’s a thousand miles deep, and a thousand miles wide. Position Rhylark on one side, and yourself on the other.”
“But I don’t want to forget—”
“Do it,” Elsa pressed. “We’re not forgetting him. We’re forgetting the negative associations you’ve attached to him. Can you trust me?”
My nod was so slight, I wasn’t sure she’d register it. But Elsa continued painting her mental picture until Rhylark and I stood on opposite shores of an endless, surging river.
“Excellent. Now create a sphere that contains all of the memories surrounding you and Rhylark that cause you pain—don’t look into them, don’t analyze them, just place them into the sphere and float that sphere over the center of the river.”
It took everything I had not to recall the pain, the hurt, the absolute heartache such a sphere would contain. But I did as Elsa asked, shoving my memories into a crystalline ball and sending it over the surging tide.
“Now drop it,” Elsa said.
She couldn’t be serious. “What?”
“Drop the ball. Let the river carry it away, to be recycled into the earth like the fertilizer it is. Those memories don’t serve you in present time, Freya. They tether you to the past, and prevent you from moving into your future. That is not what the Norns want for you. It’s not what Rhylark wants for you. And it’s not what you want for yourself. If it was, you wouldn’t have agreed to do this.”
My fingernails dug into my palms as I took a deep breath, permitted myself one moment of hesitation, then dropped the ball. The river surged, pulling it under and sweeping it downstream so quickly that I didn’t have the chance to mourn its loss. It was just…gone. In its place was an empty space, waiting to be filled.
But with what?
“Now, I want you to take another ball. Fill this one with all of the memories surrounding you and Rhylark that brought you joy. Don’t look at these either, or analyze them—just place them into the ball, and float that sphere over the river.”
Oh gods. Was she going to make me release this one too? I loaded up the ball, sent it into the space above the river…and I waited.
“Now, I want you to picture a beam of light shooting from one side of this ball directly to Rhylark, a thousand miles away, on the other side of the river. And I want you to picture a second beam shooting from the ball back to you, on your side of the river. Allow these memories, this happiness, to fill you both—to be the only thing you carry forward with you on your journey. That which nourishes your soul and serves your highest good—that is what you may take forward with you. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
My cheeks dampened as tears ebbed from my eyes. With a sigh of gratitude, I allowed the light to fill my heart, to fill my entire body, and then, to expand to touch all of the space encompassing my side of the riverbank. A thousand miles away, a brilliant light showed me that Rhylark, wherever he was, was doing the same. The knowledge that somewhere, somehow, we were both harvesting all that was good from our time together with the intention of evolving into our fullest, lightest selves filled me with a peace I hadn’t known for a long time—if ever.
“And now, my beautiful love goddess…” Elsa’s voice cracked. “Gift all of Rhylark’s energy back to him. Call all of your energy back to you. Release the ball into the river, for you have taken from it all that can serve you in the present time. And know that from this moment on, you are in perfekt command of your energy, as it relates to this portion of your past.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. I released Rhylark’s energy, called back my own, and let the sphere drop into the raging tide. I felt no sadness as it was swept away, only gratitude for all it had given me. Every part of me was full, and light, and whole.
Every part but one.
“What about my heart?” I asked. “The ketane…”
“We can release it now,” Elsa said gently. “Mia, do you have the containment vessel?”
My eyes fluttered open. Mia. I’d forgotten she was there.
“The vessel is here.” Mia held out her hand. A small, round box rested atop her palm.
“Good. Extend it in your right hand, and use your left to hold our space at a golden–pink resonance. Intend that clarity and love fill Freya’s aura. Freya, drink this. All of this.” Elsa handed me the bowl, which was now full of glowing, pink liquid. “When it’s gone, I’ll begin the extraction.”
I raised the fizzing drink to my lips and swallowed, trying not to giggle as the bubbles danced across my tongue. “It tickles.”
“Faster, please,” Elsa urged.
I downed the rest of the drink, licking the last of its sweetness from my bottom lip. When I’d finished, Elsa took the bowl from my hands and placed it on the ground. She stepped back, held her hands in front of her, closed her eyes…and hummed.
The humming was new. Elsa’s ministrations were usually silent.
Elsa flicked her fingers at me and continued her humming. I closed my eyes and nestled my head into the leather back of my chair. A second, slightly higher pitch chimed in from my right, and I was hit with a wave of calm as Mia and Elsa worked in tandem. When they’d learned to do this, I did not know. But I found myself encased in a cocoon of complete and utter peace.
Finally.
“Keep your eyes closed, Freya,” Elsa advised. A few seconds later, her slender fingers rapped lightly on my chest. A force surged inside my ribcage—the dark weight that had held my heart seemed to recoil.
“I don’t think it likes you,” I offered.
Elsa hummed again, and a jolt of effervescent energy shot from her palm into my heart. Heat filled me from the inside, and the ketane whipped back and forth with such force, the backs of my ribs grew tender.
“Ouch!”
“Sorry. It should take only a moment longer. Mia? Open the box and bring it closer.”
Mia’s shoulder brushed against my forearm as a small click rang through the room. The containment vessel was in place. If the tornado in my torso was any indication, the ketane knew.
And it wasn’t happy.
“Hold the armrests, Freya. This might be uncomfortable. I’ll extract on three. Two. One.”
A vicious curse ripped from my throat. Leather wedged into my nails as I dug my fingertips into the chair. Blazing agony tore through my chest, blistering my insides and filling me with the desperate desire to crawl out of my own skin. “My gods, it hurts!”
“Don’t move!” Elsa’s normally sanguine tone had a decisive edge. The part of my brain not consumed with my imminent demise prayed the ketane wasn’t hurting Elsa, too. “Mia, close the box when the tail extracts. You’ll see its barbed surface and—”
“Holy skit!” I screamed as tiny blades pummeled my heart, then ripped through my ribcage. I opened my eyes just in time to see the mace-like end of what appeared to be a snake fly into the little box in Mia’s hand.
“Now!” Elsa cried.
“Got it!” Mia shut the box with a loud snap. It rattled violently, nearly toppling to the floor before my friend slammed her other hand on top of it. “There’s a containment mode. I just have to find the switch…” She slid her thumb over the lid of the box, and it stopped shaking.
My hands, however, trembled with the force of an angry frost giant. I shot Elsa a look. “That was more than uncomfortable.”
“I know. I felt it with you. That thing was horrid.” Elsa shuddered. “Its energy was so dark…as dark as Hel’s own.”
“She said it was a new substance. Do you think it was a piece of her?” Mia locked the box in the wall safe, and turned to us with wide eyes. “Good Lord, Freya. Did you have Hel’s soul imbued in your heart all these months?”
“Gods, I hope not.” I shuddered at the image of a piece of Hel’s soul somehow contained within mine. But instead of amplifying, curling into itself, and thickening to weigh down my chest and cloud my head like my fears had done for months on end, this piece of anxiety flickered and died. My head remained mercifully clear, and my heart…
The black hole of darkness was gone. And in its place was the warm, pink pulse of complete and total, unconditional, brilliantly glowing…love.