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Weaving Fate (The Omega Prophecy Book 2)

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by Nora Ash




  Weaving Fate

  The Omega Prophecy II

  Nora Ash

  Copyright © 2020 by Nora Ash

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Any and all likeness to trademarks, corporations or persons, dead or alive, is purely coincidental.

  Summary

  Five possessive gods and the end of mankind. That's my fate.

  Ragnarök is here. The end of the world is eating away at Asgard as well as the human world until there is nothing left but ice and darkness.

  I’m supposed to stop it—it’s my literal fate, thanks to a meddling Norn and an MIA prophet. Me, and the five alpha gods destined to claim me as theirs.

  Only now, three of my would-be mates are captured, held in Valhalla until I and their brothers present Loki in chains to stand trial for treason. He’s the God of Mischief, the Betrayer who sold out gods and humans alike for his own, twisted goals… And if we want a chance to save our loved ones, we will have to out-trick the trickster.

  But magic or no, I am just a human. And I am an omega. My two companions are my only hope of defeating Loki, but their rivalry threatens to tear us apart.

  They are both fated to claim me. Neither wants to share me with the other.

  To get Annabel’s full story, make sure you read Ragnarök Rising before delving into Weaving Fate.

  Contents

  Summary

  Chapter 1

  Annabel

  Chapter 2

  Annabel

  Chapter 3

  Magni

  Chapter 4

  Bjarni

  Chapter 5

  Modi

  Chapter 6

  Annabel

  Chapter 7

  Bjarni

  Chapter 8

  Annabel

  Chapter 9

  Annabel

  Chapter 10

  Modi

  Chapter 11

  Annabel

  Chapter 12

  Modi

  Chapter 13

  Annabel

  Chapter 14

  Bjarni

  Chapter 15

  Modi

  Chapter 16

  Annabel

  Chapter 17

  Bjarni

  Chapter 18

  Annabel

  Chapter 19

  Modi

  Chapter 20

  Bjarni

  Chapter 21

  Annabel

  Chapter 22

  Modi

  Chapter 23

  Annabel

  Chapter 24

  Annabel

  Chapter 25

  Modi

  Chapter 26

  Annabel

  Chapter 27

  Annabel

  Chapter 28

  Modi

  Chapter 29

  Bjarni

  Chapter 30

  Annabel

  Chapter 31

  Modi

  Chapter 32

  Annabel

  Chapter 33

  Modi

  Chapter 34

  Annabel

  Chapter 35

  Grim

  Chapter 36

  Annabel

  Chapter 37

  Annabel

  Chapter 38

  Annabel

  Chapter 39

  Annabel

  Betraying Destiny

  Get the final book in The Omega Prophecy trilogy

  Also by Nora Ash

  One

  Annabel

  “What do they mean, pay with the same blood? Are they going to kill them? They can’t do that!”

  Trud cut my panicked tirade short, grabbing me gently by my shoulders and halting my pacing in the upturned kitchen.

  “We’re not going to let anyone hurt Magni,” she said.

  “That’s great, but what about Saga and his brothers?” I bit, shooting Modi a glare. I realized it wasn’t the siblings’ fault that their mother betrayed my mates, but right then, I needed an outlet. “Your brother’s made it plenty clear he’s more than happy to see them dead!”

  Modi turned toward me, his blue eyes flashing, but when he opened his mouth—undoubtedly to retaliate—Trud shook her head at him before refocusing on me.

  “Loki’s sons are scum, it’s true, but you’re mated to one of them. If he dies, you die. And if you die, so does our brother.”

  She seemed to be speaking as much to me as she was Modi, judging from his dark look in her direction.

  “I’ll find Dad," she continued. "The Valkyries will be taking them to Valhalla to stand trial in front of Odin. Without Thor’s presence, I fear it will be too easy for the other gods to turn against our half-blooded brother and the traitor’s spawn.”

  “I’m sure Dad would be the first to roast those three trolls next to Sæhrímnir,” Modi muttered.

  “Perhaps, but not at Magni's expense,” Trud said, giving him a hard stare. “I’m going to go look for Dad. I’ll meet you at Valhalla. I don’t have to tell you to take care of your brother’s omega while I’m gone, do I?”

  Modi pursed his lips, and I got the distinct impression she’d insulted his honor somehow. “No, sister. You don’t have to remind me to fulfill my obligations to my blood; I know my duties to my brother’s mate. She will be under my care and protection. Now go.”

  Ah, there it was. For a moment, I’d forgotten I was a commodity in alphas’ eyes, not a sentient being with my own agency.

  I shot him an annoyed look, but decided against making a fuss—this time. There were more important things at stake than my need to assert myself, and I did need someone to guide me to Valhalla. Somehow I doubted a human would be left to wander on her own in the realm of the gods.

  Trud gave me what was probably meant to be a reassuring smile. Then she walked out the door, leaving me with her brother.

  The redheaded god shook his head, and I was pretty sure I heard him mutter, “Fucking Magni,” under his breath. Then he looked at me and heaved a deep sigh.

  “All right then, omega. Let us prepare for Valhalla.”

  “My name’s Annabel,” I said. “How do we prepare for Valhalla? Is there a ritual, or—”

  “Of course there’s not a ritual—I’m the son of Thor. I come and go in all of Asgard as I please,” he said, giving me a look as if he suspected I was slow. “Do they teach you nothing in Midgard? But one does not waltz into the house of Odin without a shirt, hmm?”

  He indicated his very broad, very naked torso, and I flushed despite myself. Thor’s legitimate son was a bit of a dick, but he was also extremely well-built.

  “Well… get dressed, then,” I said, looking away to avoid giving the impression I might have been ogling him. “I have two mates to save, and I’m not about to wait around while you try on pretty shirts.”

  Modi barked a laugh, slapping me on the back hard enough to make me stumble a step before I caught myself.

  “I see my brother likes them feisty. All right, little omega. Wait here—I’ll try not to take all day.”

  Modi did, in fact, not take very long to get dressed. He came down after maybe five minutes, wearing a linen tunic and animal hide leggings with his sword hanging off a plain leather belt. Yet despite the simple outfit, he still emanated a near-regal presence with his arrow-straight posture and smooth strides.

  He exuded all the confidence of a god—which kind of made sense, I supposed. He was a god. But so was Magni.


  My thoughts turned to my redheaded mate’s anger at Sif’s reaction to our presence, and the old wounds I’d felt in our bond from his life in this house. Magni was formidable, a god among alphas in his own right—but he didn’t carry himself the same way his brother did.

  They may have looked alike, may have carried the same divine blood in their veins, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that even gods were affected by how much love they’d known.

  I thought about what Bjarni had said on our trip to Udgaard—how Magni’d betrayed his mother’s kin to gain access to Asgard, only to be seen as a second-class citizen due to his Jotunn lineage. Had he ever known love?

  “We won’t let anything happen to your mate,” Modi rumbled, the way he glanced at my face making me aware my emotions were showing in my features. “Either of them,” he reluctantly added.

  “I don’t understand why they were taken in the first place,” I said, grateful for the distraction. “Even if Loki betrayed Asgard, why take it out on his sons?”

  Modi snorted, placing a hand on my spine as he led me out the door of Trudheim. The once-busy yard seemed devoid of life now.

  “Has Magni truly allowed that scum to twist your mind, omega? They’re not innocents, whatever they may have tried to portray to make you agree to this insane arrangement.”

  “Wasn’t a whole lot of agreement from my side,” I muttered. “What do you mean, they’re not innocent?”

  Modi sighed, free hand twitching on the pommel of his sword as if the mere mention of the Lokissons made him itch for battle. “I mean that they’ve taken up swords against the gods more than once. They align with the Jotunn whores who birthed them, not the Aesir. I myself have met them in battle. They’d see Asgard burned to the ground, if they had their way.”

  “Seems to me they’d rather hide out in the human world and wait for Ragnarök to do its thing than fight gods—or Jotunns,” I said, reminded of how they’d tried to squirrel me away on their farm in Iceland.

  “Perhaps—it’s not a shock that Loki’s spawn would turn cowards in the end,” Modi said. “But cowardice does not absolve them of the crimes of their past.”

  “I mean…” The rush of offense his words stirred in me surprised me. The Lokissons were definitely still on my shit-list for how they’d gone about kidnapping me, but… “Is what you’re doing so much better?”

  “Beg your pardon?” Modi turned to face me, both russet eyebrows meeting his hairline.

  “You’re, what, planning to go off and fight that prick Surtr and his army? What good’s that going to do? As far as I understand from all the prophecies floating around these days, the gods are destined to die. You’re literally just going off to fight for no reason when you could be trying to save not only your own family, but the humans too. I don’t think what the Lokisson brothers are doing is any less noble.”

  Heat colored Modi’s cheeks in bright red splotches, his eyes narrowing as he glared down at me. Grabbing my shoulder, he pulled me to a hard stop.

  “You dare question my honor because I refuse to lower myself to this… this arrangement between you, my brother, and the three trolls? You, who spread your legs for the betrayer’s son? You know nothing of honor, omega, and you will not speak again on matters you don’t understand.”

  Great. It seemed Magni didn’t get his haughty views on an omega’s place from strangers. I twisted my shoulder out of Modi's grip and gave him what I hoped was a withering stare.

  “I don’t care about your honor, Thorsson; I care about my parents surviving. My entire species. You’re a freaking god, and you’d rather fight an unwinnable battle than even consider that Magni might be right. He took me to Verdandi, and she showed me the consequences of ignoring Mimir’s prophecy.

  “Do you think I wanted any part of this? That Saga or Magni wanted to share a mate with each other? We’re doing what we have to to save the world. You don’t want to be a part of that? Fine. We don’t need you. But you don’t get to play high and mighty when you don’t have the balls to do what your brother or the trolls are trying to do.”

  I wasn’t entirely sure where my anger came from. It wasn’t like any of the four men who’d brought me here had set out with noble intentions—they’d all wanted to claim me for selfish reasons. But after everything—after Verdandi’s warnings, after the trials to pass through to Asgard, and rescuing Magni in Freya’s hall—I knew both Saga and Magni would help me save the world from destruction, and that Grim and Bjarni would follow where their brother led.

  That this stranger, this golden son who’d been favored over my mate, looked down on his own brother for finally trying to do what was right? I was having exactly none of it.

  “Now if it doesn’t impede your precious honor," I sneered, "I’d like to try to get my mates back from whatever boorish Valkyrie thought she could grab them from me.”

  I spun to face the golden city towering on the mountain straight ahead on the path before Modi could even respond. I managed to stomp several yards down the path before gravel crunched behind me and the red-headed god fell in by my side.

  “You’re a nasty little thing.” Despite his crass words, Modi’s temper seemed to have settled in the wake of my own. In fact, he sounded mildly amused. “Loudmouthed, abrasive… a discredit to omegas. My brother must truly have been desperate when he claimed you.”

  “Well, you’re an overbearing dick. As far as gods go, you’re pretty much a letdown too,” I growled, annoyance and a surprising sensation of hurt fizzing in my veins.

  It wasn’t that I wanted to be a so-called good omega. As far as I was concerned, what men considered good omegas were women who’d been oppressed and cultivated their whole lives to be demure and always bend to an alpha's will, disregarding her own wants and needs. It wasn't a life I wanted any part of.

  But being told Magni must’ve been desperate to claim me? That hurt, even if I knew it to be true. Maybe even because I knew it was true.

  I pressed a hand to my chest where his and Saga’s bonds were humming agitatedly. This wasn’t what I’d thought love would be like, in the few moments I’d spared it a thought while I was busy with my studies. This deep, aching incompleteness whenever my mates weren’t with me was awful, like I’d somehow lost chunks of myself. There were gaping wounds left now, and only my mates could heal them.

  Getting reminded that the only two people in the world who could make me stop aching wouldn’t have picked me if they’d thought they had any other option? It straight-up sucked.

  I shot Modi another glare before I refocused on the golden city ahead. Reluctant or not, they were mine, and no arrogant god-son or uppity Valkyrie was going to keep me from returning them to my side where they belonged.

  Two

  Annabel

  The trek up the mountain was tough, but I found that my desperation to be reunited with Saga and Magni kept my strides fast and even as I climbed the winding path.

  Soon large halls and towers topped with gilded roofs sprung up beside us, getting more ornately decorated as we rose. Large reliefs depicting tales of battles adorned the rough-hewn walls, and despite my eagerness to find my mates, the historian in me couldn’t contain herself.

  When I came to one that was surrounded by runes, I paused to squint at the ancient writing. “Is this…?”

  “The story of Arngrim the Beserker?” Modi asked. “Yes. When he is not fighting or feasting in Valhalla, he resides here.”

  I was vaguely aware my mouth was hanging open. I’d read about a number of old Norse heroes during my studies, and the realization that they lived on here was baffling. But then again, in a world where gods were alive, why not long-dead heroes?

  I touched the part of the carving depicting a long-haired, smaller figure. “Eyfure? His wife?”

  “You know your stories,” Modi said. “Yes, the omega princess he won the right to claim after defeating two chieftains.”

  “Is she here too?”

  Modi chuckled. “An om
ega among the warriors of Valhalla? No. I suspect she’s in Hel.”

  I knew the old Vikings saw death differently than many religions did today and that Hel wasn’t synonymous with hell, but the thought that a pair-bonded couple would be forced apart in the afterlife seemed so cruel.

  I pressed a hand to my chest, wondering if the emptiness would vanish upon death, and turned away from the relief. It was not something I particularly wished to dwell on right now.

  “Most noble warriors go to Valhalla,” Modi said as we continued the climb. Judging from the gentleness in his tone, I suspected I hadn’t managed to hide my anguish on Arngrim's and Eyfure’s behalves. “It’s the greatest honor. Any wife would wish nothing more for her mate.”

  I stopped myself from asking him how he’d have any inkling what a mated omega would want. Asshat or not, I needed as much of his support as I could get in rescuing my mates from whatever fate the Valkyries had planned for them.

  Then something he’d said made me frown. “Most noble warriors go to Valhalla? I thought it was all?”

  “Some go to Folkvangr,” Modi explained. “Freya’s house. You must have seen them when you visited.”

  “There was no one when we were there. Just Freya and her cats,” I said, glancing at him.

  He frowned. “No, that can’t be right. Freya wouldn’t deploy them without consulting with the other gods. You must be mistaken—she must have taken you to some other place.”

 

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