Ragnarök Rising

by Nora Ash

  That thick, pungent odor of bread solidified in my nostrils. I choked. And then another, far worse scent took its place.

  It was the scent of rot, of flesh decaying and fluids left to ferment. I raised my free hand to my face, shrouding it against the stench, but that didn’t stop my eyes from falling on the tiny corpses decomposing mere feet away, sticks still in hand.

  Saga wasn’t looking at them. He was only looking at the man before him, ashen, gaze hollow and a million miles away.

  “They were your responsibility,” the man said, pointing at Saga’s dead brothers. “You are my eldest. What good are you, if you cannot even protect them in my absence?”

  Despite how indistinct his features had seemed mere moments ago, I now caught a stark and hypersaturated sneer developing like a Polaroid across his face.

  “You were always a disappointment. It should have been you.”

  “This never happened,” I said, even as the walls of the cottage fell away, crumbling to ash right before my eyes. “Saga, don’t listen to him. Your brothers are alive. This isn’t real. This is all just—”

  “A trial,” he rumbled, watching the smoke rise in the distance. “I know. But it’s one I don’t know how to best.” Shaking his head, he looked back to Bjarni and Grim’s bug-bloated bodies. “I never have.”

  I shook my head at him. “But if this never happened, then… then it isn’t about this. Is it? It’s something else. Something I’m not seeing.”

  “It’s something that hasn’t yet come to pass,” Saga answered, worrying my fingers with his. “But something I’ve always feared might.” Tearing his gaze away from the carnage at last, he added, “It’s always been my duty to protect them. To keep my brothers safe. Ever since I can remember, it’s been my job to stand in the way of anything that might harm them. One of my greatest fears is failing at that.” Tightly, he swallowed. “I’ve already failed my father in so many other ways.”

  I opened my mouth to object, but then I could taste it—again, that pungent scent filled the air, this time coating my tongue with a rancid film.

  “Just… wait,” I said, trying to get Saga to focus on me—only me. “Let’s think about this together. What happened back there? When you were holding that doll?”

  Saga winced at the memory, trying to draw away from me and pull me closer all at the same time. “I thought I’d lost you. That who I am… or who I was raised to be… would drive you away from me like so many others. And that ultimately, I would be responsible for your ruin.”

  “And what drew you out of it?” I asked him, squeezing his hand again the moment his gaze began to stray. “What was it that made you overcome that fear? What made you keep going?”

  “You,” he said plainly, reaching down to tuck a wayward strand behind my ear. “The moment I saw you, the moment I heard your voice... it was like you stitched my heart back together. Like you put the fire back in my soul. You struck a spark in me. You gave hope a place to burn again. Annabel… it was you.”

  My heart sang, my bond humming so loudly it threatened to drown out even the darkness that surrounded us. Fate. Fate had forced us together, but in Saga’s eyes and in his words, I finally saw a glimmer of what could be. If we let it.

  “You didn’t fail your father,” I told him, forcing my mind back to the present, “or your brothers. And you didn’t fail me. Nothing of what you’ve seen or heard here has happened. All of it is a lie meant to make you weak. Something is preying on you, hoping that by the time it’s done with you you’ll be too broken to fight it. It knows it doesn’t have a fair shot otherwise.

  “Ragnarök has come. It’s true. But you found me, didn’t you? And in a way… you saved me.” I jutted my chin at Bjarni’s and Grim’s remains. “And you’ll save them, just like you have before. But what’s more… you haven’t just saved us. You’re going to save my parents. You’re going to keep everyone safe. And I’ll be at your side every step of the way.”

  Saga blinked at me then, head cocked. When we’d retrieved Magni, I’d promised I’d be their mate, so long as I had the opportunity to save my family from the end of the world as well. But what I was offering him now was different, and he must have realized that, because confusion soon replaced the grief writ on his face.

  “You… want to do this with me?” he asked, taking my other hand in his. “Why?”

  “Because I’ve seen your heart now,” I said, looking around at the smoldering ashes of his childhood home. “I’ve seen the things you fear the most. And I know that one of them is losing me, and the other is losing the rest of those you love. We’re not really that different when it comes to family. I didn’t see it before now, but we’re both selfless. Faithful to a fault—until we bleed. I can feel your heart bleeding right now, in fact, and…”

  Cautiously, I laid my hand upon his chest.

  “And it’s bleeding inside the chest of a man I could love.”

  Saga cinched my wrist in his grasp suddenly, pulling me tighter to his body as he leaned down to claim my mouth so rough, yet so sweetly. His warm, callused fingers bracketed the curve of my jaw, sweeping me up into him as if he could devour me, hold me inside him to protect me from the rest of this nightmare we’d embarked upon together.

  And we had walked in here together. I’d chosen to come after him. I’d needed to. For the first time, he and I were on the same side.

  And it felt good. Better than I’d thought it possibly could. As did his arms around me, guarding me, clutching at me, shielding me from the howling wind that had picked up around us and swept the world clean of anything good or living.

  Thunder snarled overhead, and I opened my eyes to take in the barren wasteland stretching out around us on all sides. The craggy ground shifted far too easily beneath my feet. I had to hold onto Saga to keep from falling into it and becoming lost between the cracks tearing it asunder.

  “How much worse is this going to get?” I asked him. The uncertainty on his face surprised me.

  “I’m not sure,” he said, holding me to him as he turned his face up to the blackened sky. “I have no idea what this is.”

  It felt different here. Where before there’d been an almost claustrophobic sense of moving through something—crawling through the belly of some ancient and terrible beast—now there was far too much space. If I let go of Saga, I was sure I’d fall up into the sky. Gravity was alien here; uprooted trees drifted by at a lazy pace, some split and smoldering from where lightning had bit them in two.

  The mist was still here, rolling and curling around our feet, smelling now of noxious smoke. As it flowed toward the edge of the cliff we were teetering upon, it flowed up, congealing into a parody of a humanoid figure—something altogether wrong.

  “You’re too late,” it said, a cacophony of whispers and shrieks trailing behind the thunder. “Ragnarök will tear the universe apart. Your family will die. Your omega will die. You have attempted to meddle in what was meant to be… and you have failed.”

  “Remember,” I told him, “none of this has come to pass. You don’t have to set yourself up for disaster by—”

  My inspirational speech rose into a cry as a part of the land jutted upward in a stiff and savage arc, slamming right into Saga’s face. He just barely managed to push me out of the way before he was sent reeling to the other end of the cliff, nearly toppling over the edge and into the swirling oblivion below.

  “Shit!” I yelped, scrambling for him. “What is this?”

  “Not a trial,” he growled, lifting his face. Twin ruby waterfalls cascaded from his nose, staining his mouth and teeth. “This is not… like the rest. It doesn’t feel the same.”

  As we rose to our feet, he smeared his shimmering blood across his skin like war paint, eyes ablaze. “This thing… whatever it is… I think it’s actually trying to kill me.”

  I hoped my smile was encouraging. “It doesn’t know you very well.”

  Saga smirked, but any begrudging mirth was cut short when the crea
ture that had formed out of the mist reared back, expelling a sonic breath that swept us both off the edge of the world.

  The suddenness of it, the utter shock, robbed me of my ability to scream. Soon enough, it was the wind shear doing the same, pulling the breath from my lungs as I hurtled helplessly toward the ground.

  It was so far down. I’d never fallen from anything so high before. The tallest thing I’d ever climbed onto was the tree in my old backyard, a tree I’d likely never see again for one reason or another, and—

  “Annabel!”

  Below—was it below? It was hard to tell with everything spinning end over end—a floating patch of land had broken Saga’s fall. I wasn’t on the same trajectory and couldn’t right myself to align with it, but as I plunged past he reached out and grabbed me, rolling to carry our bodies to the center so the island wouldn’t tip.

  I wheezed, ribs smarting. Starbursts of pain exploded in front of my eyes. “What the hell is that thing?”

  “I don’t know,” Saga admitted, holding himself over me to shield me from a rain of debris. “But whatever it is, we’ve got to get away from it. Now.”

  I looked up at him, still gulping air like it was in short supply. “You’re not going to kill it?”

  Saga barked a rough laugh. “Annabel, did you see it? That thing, whatever it is… it’s not a creature in a well. That’s on par with the gods.”

  High above, the beast had clawed its way to the edge of the cliff, gazing at us with only the vaguest suggestion of eyes. From its back, two magnificent, immense wings unfurled, their edges dancing in the wind like torn scraps of paper.

  “It’s going to come for us again,” Saga said, looking back down at me. “We need to be elsewhere when it does.”

  When he didn’t offer up a plan, I pushed up on my elbows. “Well, what do you want me to do about it?”

  He wiped his nose again. It was still gushing. “You have to find your magic, or we’ll die.”

  Now it was my turn to laugh. “And how the hell am I supposed to do that?”

  “You’re not,” he said, using his bloodied hand to grasp mine. “We are going to do it. Together. Like you said.”

  Saga’s blood trickled into the lines in my palm, sticking there at first, then gradually seeping into my pores. I drew in a startled breath and began to pull away from him, but he held me fast, looking into my eyes.

  “Together,” he said again. “Trust me, Annabel. Please. And trust yourself too.”

  This was all so new to me. Could I really do that? Did I have it in me to not only put my faith in Saga… but in myself?

  There wasn’t time to overthink it. If I was even going to make the attempt, it would have to be now. The creature was gaining lift, taking to the skies in a slow circle, preparing to swoop.

  “Together,” I murmured, closing my eyes and fitting my fingers between his.

  I thought it would be slow. I thought I would have time to find my footing—to adjust to what would happen next.

  But I didn’t. Instead, every pathway that had been closed within me—pathways I hadn’t even known existed—opened all at once.

  And out flooded a surge of power so immense my whole body lit up with it.

  Something inside me simply burst, a ripple that coursed from my core. All along the edge of the tiny island Saga and I were buoyed on, a familiar set of glyphs fizzled to life, forming a circle of light that earned us a terrible roar from the creature so hellbent on our annihilation.

  “You can do this!” Saga yelled over the din of wind and shrieking. “You can get us home!”

  Saga was right. I could. I was certain of it.

  Hand in his, commanding the magic that would spirit us away to safety, I was more certain than I’d been of anything in my whole life.

  24

  Annabel

  The portal swirled around us in a multihued kaleidoscope, until a sharp flash of light tore the dream world away, revealing the grassy patch of land where we’d left Grim, Bjarni, and Magni. I landed on top of Saga, the impact with his hard chest forcing a grunt from my throat.

  “You okay?” Saga asked, strong arms closing protectively around my body. Despite the roughness of his voice, there was no mistaking the tender note in it.

  “Yeah, I’m….” I stared down at him, the frantic beating of my heart slowly quieting as I took in the unaccustomed softness in his flint-gray eyes. His brothers’ voices quieted to a murmur as I finally saw him. My mate. Like I’d seen him in the dream-trial. His deepest fears laid bare, his heart finally open and vulnerable for me. He hadn’t claimed me to subjugate me, hadn’t forced my surrender because he didn’t care about my wants and needs. He’d done it because he was scared of losing his brothers, and he’d tried to dominate me because it was the only way he thought he could keep me from being taken from him.

  In his heart, my Saga was scared of nothing more than the thought of failing those he loved and losing them as a consequence.

  And one thing I was sure of after this trial? It was that Saga loved me.

  It didn’t make sense, we hadn’t known each other for long—and the instincts that ruled us both had forced a sense of need and belonging so strong it’d been impossible to see how there could ever be anything else. But there was.

  Maybe it was the prophecy, maybe Fate had granted us the gift of love in exchange for the complicated weave we found ourselves tangled in. It didn’t matter.

  “I’m so sorry,” Saga whispered, bringing my thoughts back to the present. “I should never have tried to deny your strength. I’ve seen you now, Annabel. I’ve seen your power, and I will never make that mistake again.” He brought his hand to my face, cupping my cheek gently. “My mate.”

  The swell of emotion in our bond made me fight back the sting of tears. I breathed deeply and I rested my forehead against his, allowing the devotion in our connection to swallow me whole. I’d seen him now—and he saw me. Saw the strength in me I’d always hoped was there.

  “My alpha,” I whispered, and he responded by tightening his grip on me.

  “If you two can keep your hands off each other for a second, do you mind explaining what the fuck happened in there?” Bjarni’s voice cut through. “Is it safe? Because unless you’ve finally decided to ditch Thor’s bastard, we’re gonna need to get him through that portal soon.”

  Magni.

  We shared one last, lingering look, silently promising to discuss what’d happened between us further when next we could. Then I climbed off Saga’s chest and went to my other mate, who sat on the ground leaning against a rock. Pain drew his face into a frown, and when he caught my eye there was uncertainty in it. He’d felt the emotion in my bond to Saga.

  “We completed the trial,” Saga said, while I knelt by Magni’s side, testing his forehead with the back of my hand. He was burning hot, but closed his eyes with a soft hum of pleasure at my touch.

  “But there was… a complication. Something… or someone is trying to block our entry to Asgard. I don’t know if the portal is safe. I don’t know how much of that trial was a set-up to kill off whoever went through,” Saga continued.

  “Someone’s trying to keep us from Asgard?” Magni asked, forcing his eyes open again to look at Saga, as Grim walked over to the portal to inspect it.

  “You did say your bracelet isn’t working,” Saga said, rubbing his chin with one hand. “This… entity. He told us he wouldn’t let us get in the way. That we couldn’t stop Ragnarök.”

  “We need to discuss this later,” I said, because another pained grimace passed over Magni’s face. “Grim, the portal. Is it safe?”

  “The runes are gone,” the dark-haired Lokisson said. “It seems like any other portal now.”

  “We’ll have to risk it,” Saga said, a concerned frown pulling down his eyebrows as he looked at Magni. “We need to get Annabel to safety—and our ticket to free passage is about to keel over.”

  “He’s right,” I said. “Let’s go.”

&n
bsp; The portal, though no longer adorned with runes, still filled me with trepidation. But Magni needed help, and he needed it stat.

  My bond to him hummed out of tune, such a stark contrast to the lightness I felt where I was connected with Saga, filling me with instinctive urgency.

  “Come,” I said as I went to stand, supporting his big body with my own. I gritted my teeth as he rested heavily on me—the so-called trial Saga and I had endured had drained me more than I’d realized—and Magni was already so much bigger than me. “We need to get you to this Eir-person.”

  No matter what, I will not fail him. Because failing him… meant the end of everything. I felt it in my core, with a certainty that clutched my lungs and squeezed until it was hard to breathe.

  Magni had done many things to me that I had no say in. But he’d also saved me. And I would never forget the look on his face as he lay dying in the wilderness, having given the last of his strength to find me. Because when he claimed me, as haughty and sly as he’d been—he’d bound himself as tightly as he had me.

  For better or worse, he was a part of me now. And if I didn’t get him to Asgard, he would die. And everything would be lost.

  The Norn had spoken the truth about me and the half-gods destined to claim me. It wasn’t merely a reluctant omega’s yearning to be something more than a broodmare—or a desperate hope that my world could be saved. I’d felt it. When the magic blasted through me, I’d felt the raw strength inside of me well up. It was there—the power to save humans and gods alike. But right now, I didn’t have the time to dwell on it, because if my weakened mate died… I would, too.

  “Hope Eir is a good a healer as the rumors say,” Saga muttered as he slipped around Magni’s other side, wrapping the red-head’s arm over his shoulders so he could support his weight, shifting the wounded alpha from my frame to his own. “You look like you’re halfway to Hel already.”