by Nora Ash
“We have to find Mimir,” I said. Mostly because it was the only direction still left for us. If even the home of the gods wasn’t safe, then there was nowhere else for us to go to search for answers.
“Is he in Asgard?” Grim asked. “He and the Allfather supposedly have communion on occasion.”
“If he is, he will be in Valhalla,” Magni said. “But first, we must go to Trudheim. If there’s a traitor in Asgard, my family must be alerted. And Modi will want to meet Annabel as soon as possible.”
“Great. Another alpha,” I muttered, scrubbing my hand not covering my chest across my face. I remembered the five glowing threads Verdandi had woven around mine, and judging from what’d happened since I stepped foot in Jotunheim so far, Fate wasn’t going to let me get out of any of those bonds. But that didn’t mean I had to like the prospect of yet another man trying to bend me to his will.
“He will be an honorable mate,” Magni said, his tone defensive. “Unlike some of your other choices.”
I shot him a glare, some of my warm contentment from our sex fizzing into irritation. “If you remember, I didn’t exactly choose any of you. Some Norns on a power trip did. Let’s just get this over with, can we?”
The bloom of hurt through the bond I shared with the redheaded alpha surprised me, but he only shot me a dark look before he rolled off the bed, bending for his clothes we’d discarded. “As you wish.”
“Godlings, I need a moment alone with your mate,” Freya said, seemingly ignoring the suddenly frosty temperature in the hall.
Saga frowned. “Why?”
She chuckled, a pearling sound, and ruffled his mushy hair. An unexpected shot of anger rose in my gut at her touch, but it vanished again when she removed her hand from him. Saga shot me an amused smirk, and I flushed hotly, realizing he’d felt the bolt of jealousy in our bond. And liked it.
“To prepare her for her travels through the kingdom of the gods, alpha. She is mortal—there are things she will want to know. Things overprotective men won’t understand. Now, out of my hall, young ones. Shoo!”
I bit back my amusement at the goddess’ hand movements that followed the shooing, and even more so when all four big, burly alpha males obeyed her with nothing but a grumpy mutter.
“You’ve got to teach me how to do that,” I said when we were alone in the hall, stretching my sore body and testing the muscles in my abdomen.
“Perhaps one day I will,” she said, a smile dancing at the corner of her mouth. “But not before you learn a few things on your own.”
“Such as?” I asked, arching an eyebrow at her.
She only smiled gently at me. “If I simply told you, dear child, you wouldn’t learn it. You will need to understand much about what you are before you are ready to learn all the secrets of Asgard.”
“You mean my magic,” I said, biting my lip. “It still feels so… alien.”
“Your magic is a great weapon, Annabel, but it’s not all you must learn to wield. You are an omega, my blessed child, and yet you fight against your very nature. It is not a weakness to overcome—it is your strength, and you will need to learn to harness it to fulfill your destiny.”
I grimaced. “I don’t see what good there is about being an omega, or how it’ll help me stop Ragnarök. All discovering I’m an omega has done so far is—”
“Is bind two enemies in unity, and heal Thor’s son when few others could have saved his life,” she interrupted me. “Had you not been an omega, you would not wield the power over your mates that you do. And without them—all five of them, working together—the worlds will end. This prophecy is about you, Annabel, but it is also about them. You must learn that there is power in submission, little one, or we are all doomed.”
I frowned, trying to take in what she’d said. Everything in me rebelled at the thought that submitting to five domineering men was any form of power, but… after what had happened when Saga forced me to accept both he and Magni at the same time, it was hard to deny that my magic somehow responded to it.
“Don’t be sad, Annabel,” Freya said softly, brushing my hair from my face. “If you learn to accept your nature, you will find happiness. And, perhaps, love.”
“You have to say that—you’re the goddess of love,” I muttered.
She laughed. “I am. But I am also the patron of omegas. And I see how you and your blond mate look at each other. You already love him. Perhaps Magni as well—even if you haven’t yet acknowledged it, hmm?”
I didn’t answer, and she merely chuckled.
“You should get dressed, child. Your alphas grow restless, and you have a job to do.”
Trudheim turned out to be much different from Folkvangr. Where Freya’s house was a tranquil temple set in natural splendor and solitude, Magni’s dad’s house was… quirky.
It towered up multiple stories, and had a number of outbuildings surrounding it. Even from a distance we saw what Magni told me were servants scurrying to and fro. Those same servants, once we entered through the gates, stopped to greet Magni and throw long looks at the three Lokissons. I passed pretty much unnoticed between the four giant alphas.
Magni led us to the main house, which despite its towering nature didn’t look particularly like something you’d imagine the thundergod himself would live in. It was slightly uneven and had many cute windows. I honestly wouldn’t have been too surprised if a wizard on a broomstick burst out the door when Magni opened it, but only a cat scurried past our legs and into the courtyard.
“I’m home!” Magni bellowed into the kitchen, stepping through ahead of us. I followed him in the door and arched my brows at the old-fashioned but very large kitchen. It was warm and inviting, but also empty.
Thudding sounded from upstairs, followed by footsteps on the wooden stairs leading into the kitchen, and then a pretty, young, blond woman flung herself into Magni’s arms, burying her head in his chest. “Magni!”
White hot jealousy spiked like a lance up my spine. I wasn’t aware of the warning snarl that ripped from my throat or my bared teeth before the girl pulled her head from my mate and gave me a startled look.
“Trud, I want you to meet—”
“His mate,” I snapped, fighting back the urge to punch the blond girl in the nose.
Trud stared at me with her mouth open for a second. Then she broke into a huge smile and shoved away from Magni, only to gather me up in an embrace that cracked my back. “Magni’s mate! Is it true? Oh, how wonderful!”
“Annabel, this is Trud. My sister,” Magni continued, without so much as attempting to hide his wide and infuriatingly smug smile.
“Sister?” I croaked, attempting and failing to free myself from her bone-breakingly tight hug.
“Half-sister,” Grim said, the pointed note to his voice suggesting he was having a dig.
“Magni,” Trud said, finally releasing me though she kept a hand on my shoulder. “Three Jotunns appear to have followed you home.”
“It’s a long story,” Magni said, placing his hand on my lower back. “A very long story. Is Modi here? I need to speak with him. Urgently.”
“He’s out back—training,” Trud said, frowning. “What is it?”
“Come with me. We don’t have time for me to explain it twice,” the redhead sighed, clasping me closer to his body. Saga’s lip curled up at the overtly display of ownership—and really, I was kind of amazed he’d taken it quietly so far. He pushed Trud out of the way and wrapped his arm around my now free side, glaring at Magni.
“Magni. That Jotunn is pawing at your mate,” Trud said, arching an eyebrow at the three of us.
Magni sighed. “As I said: It’s a very long story. Now, come on.”
He walked us through the house, which didn’t ease up on the quirkiness with its wooden arches and cozy nooks and crannies, leading us to a backdoor and out into what I half expected to be a cozy cottage garden. Instead, what greeted us was a large patch of dirt with what appeared to be wooden training dummies and a large
, topless man with long red hair pulled back in a ponytail, much like Magni’s. He was currently attacking one of the dummies with a sword, his big body moving like a panther’s.
“Modi,” Trud called. “Magni’s home. And he’s got a surprise with him. Or four.”
Modi stopped a fluid attack on the dummy, twisting around toward us with a wide grin. “Broth…er.” His eyes narrowed as he took us in, lingering on the three Lokissons. “I see you brought me fresh meat to practice on. It has been a while since I had a good fight.”
Bjarni rolled his shoulders, a vicious grin spreading on his lips as he grabbed for his own weapon, but Saga’s hand on his stilled him.
“We’re not here to fight, son of Thor,” my blond mate said, almost managing to keep his voice neutral, void of the venom I knew simmered just below the surface. “We’re here for a… business proposition.”
“Really? I business proposition?” I hissed under my breath.
“I found the answer. I found her,” Magni said. “I know how to save us all from Ragnarök.”
Modi jerked his head from his staring-contest with Bjarni, eyebrows reaching his hairline. “Truly? You truly found a way?” He looked so much like Magni with his red hair and strong jaw, yet the differences between them spoke of the half-blooded relationship they apparently shared. Where Magni’s eyes were forest green, Modi’s were sky blue, his features every inch as handsome but not as sharply cut. He looked like a clean-cut superhero—exactly what you’d imagine a Norse god to look like except for the red hair and lack of beard.
“I did,” Magni said, gently pushing me a step forward. “Do you know of Mimir’s prophecy about the woman who can unify the sons of gods in the face of Ragnarök?”
Modi raised an eyebrow, looking me over for the first time. “Tell me you didn’t mate a human omega on one of Mimir’s crackpot prophecies, brother.”
“It’s not a crackpot prophecy, Modi. It’s real. She’s real. She’s got magic… strong magic,” Magni bristled. “She can save all of us.”
“But?” Modi said, his blue eyes flickering from me to Magni. “There’s a catch, isn’t there?”
“We have to share her. With them.” Magni tilted his head to the side, where Saga still had a hold of me.
Modi stared at Magni for two long seconds. Then he burst into a rumbling laughter. “If you think I will ever share a woman, let alone a mate, with the scum of Loki’s loins, you must have hit your head.”
“You may laugh, brother, but I know you,” Magni said through gritted teeth, and in our bond his frustration flared hotly. Frustration—and hurt. “You will do what you have to to save your family. And dad will be safe with my bond to her, but Trud and Sif? Will you let them die because you’re too proud to do what must be done?”
These two really understood how to make a girl feel special.
“I’m sorry, Magni. But you show up here with a human woman and three of Loki’s sons and spew off some wild plan to stop the inevitable. You must know how crazy this sounds.” He shook his head and aimed a finger at Saga. “The last time I saw you, Lokisson, I promised you an ass-kicking if you ever showed your face in Asgard again. And here you are, waltzing into my father’s home, asking for what? Mercy?”
A snarl rumbled through Saga’s chest, his muscles tensing as if to ready for battle, but it was Magni who answered.
“He isn’t asking, Modi. I am. Your brother. And not for mercy. I am offering you a chance at survival. We are offering it. Please—my blood. Take it.”
“Magni—” Modi sighed.
“Modi,” Trud interrupted, her voice sharp enough to gain the arguing brothers’ attention. “The very fact that he shows up in our father’s house dragging along those three should be enough to at least consider he could be right. Can we at least greet our new sister before you deny the very reason for her presence?”
Modi made a flapping gesture with one hand. “Sure. If you want to entertain this lunacy for a bit longer, by all means. Greet our brother’s mate—who’s also the mate of these three trolls, if I am to understand this plan correctly? Why not ask Mom to prepare a wedding feast while we’re at it? Invite all of Asgard to celebrate the scum of the betrayer!”
“Watch who you call troll, lightning boy,” Bjarni growled.
“Stop being so dramatic.” Trud sighed with an eye roll. She stepped in front on me, blocking my view of the agitated god and offered me a small smile. “Welcome to Trudheim, my sister. May I?” She held out her hands, palms up.
Hesitantly, I put my hands in hers. The gentle buzz I was slowly starting to recognize as the presence of magic enveloped my fingers.
“Don’t be startled, I’m just having a little peek,” Trud said, closing her eyes. She was silent for a moment, then gasped softly. “Oh, my.”
“What?” Modi asked, impatience coloring his voice. “Is she singlehandedly going to stop Ragnarök then?”
“That I can’t say.” Trud opened her eyes again, studying my face with her brilliant blue eyes. Curiosity sparkled in them. “But she has been touched by Fate, that much is certain. Be wise, brother mine. Don’t let hatred cloud your judgment.”
Modi huffed, throwing the sword he’d been using to practice on the ground. “Fine. They can stay until Father returns. He will know what to do.”
I didn’t miss how Grim rolled his mismatched eyes at that statement, nor Saga’s derisive snort, but thankfully no one said anything. The situation was already so tense, the air practically sparked against my scalp.
“Come, you must be hungry from your journey. Midgard is so far,” Trud said, gesturing toward the door we’d just exited. “Eat and rest while we wait for our parents to return. They will be excited to see my brother’s new mate—even if she does come with three Jotunns.”
“So long as Thor arrives first,” Magni muttered under his breath. When I arched an eyebrow in question, he ignored me, using his hand on my lower back to guide me back into the house.
One thing I couldn’t complain about in Thor’s house was the food. Trud had servants bring a vast array of breads, cheeses, fruits, and meats, and every single bite tasted like heaven. I hadn’t eaten anything but spit-roasted game for what felt like an eternity, and the novelty had quickly worn off.
I was halfway into a solid food coma by the time the kitchen door swung open.
I jerked upright, my heart slamming into overdrive at the thought of finally getting to see the god of thunder himself, but the person entering was most definitely not him.
It was a tall woman with hair that looked like pure, spun gold, and in her features I recognized much of Trud. Her mother, then. And Modi’s, but not Magni’s, if I’d understood their family relations correctly.
“Mom,” Trud said, getting up from the wooden table we’d eaten around. “We have company. Magni brought home a mate. And… friends.”
Sif looked up, her eyes widening slightly as she took in our little group. But surprise soon vanished in the face of anger.
“You bring Jotunn scum into my house?” she hissed, rounding on Magni.
Seemed Modi didn’t have it from strangers.
“It’s a long story, Sif, but it is with a purpose,” Magni said, and despite his calm voice I felt something flicker in our bond. Dread? Or was it… fear? “They are here because they can help me protect this family from Ragnarök.”
“Stop Ragnarök?” she asked, voice pitching high with incredulity. “Have you lost your mind, boy? I don’t care what harebrained scheme you’ve cooked up to win Thor’s favor this time. I want them out of my house—now!”
“Mother,” Modi intervened, glancing at his brother once before he gave her his full attention. “There is more to the story. Trud finds it wise to wait until Father is home to decide what to do with these… house guests.”
Sif didn’t move her glare from Magni. Her nostrils flared as she stared him down, and it dawned on me that this woman hated my mate.
Instincts to protect flared unexpectedly in
my gut, but instead of saying a word she turned around and walked out the door, slamming it after her.
“Well… that was awkward,” Saga said happily. “Still not the favorite son around here, huh?”
Magni gave him a dark look, but much to my astonishment, didn’t bite his head off. Instead, he kicked the chair he’d been sitting off back under the table and turned silently, heading for the backdoor.
I glanced around the room, hoping someone else would step in, but no one did. Sighing, I turned toward the back door and made a small hand motion toward it. “I’ll just….”
No one stopped me when I crossed the room, not even Saga.
I found Magni by the training dummies, Modi’s discarded sword in hand. He was chopping angrily at the dummy, more brute force than finesse in his swings.
“Hey,” I said, stopping by a nearby fence post. “Wanna talk about it?”
He gave the dummy two more whacks with the sword before he looked at me over his shoulder. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Your stepmom is kind of a bitch,” I said, frowning as he went back to butchering the defenseless block of wood and straw. “I get that it’s a lot to hear the whole destined-to-save-the-world-by-gangbang thing. Trust me on that one. But… there was something really personal about the way she snapped at you. Why does she hate you?”
Magni didn’t answer, except from rough grunts of exertion as he kept attacking the dummy.
I hesitated for a moment, but the flare of agony in my chest from where his bond was hooked made me step forward until I could wrap my arms around his torso from the back and rest my forehead against his spine. Finally he stilled, but instead of turning around, he simply stood. Sword hanging limply in his hand.
“I don’t know why I thought it’d be different this time,” he murmured. “You don’t know how long I’ve tried… I crossed to fucking Midgard to save her and her family, claimed a mate, and brought her back, and still, it’s the same stupid shit.”