by Nora Ash
“Not ‘nothing,' ” Modi said. “My brother and I are prophesied to live as a new land reveals itself. Two humans will survive, and they will bring life into the world.”
I blinked, trying to take in everything the gods had just shared about their understanding of the end of the world.
“You… I’m sorry, you think… You think two humans can repopulate the Earth? Are you nuts?” I shook my head. “Look, creationism has been disproven. It’s impossible for humanity to survive with less than a few thousand individuals to replenish the stock, and where is this land supposed to come from? The poisoned seas?”
“Not all prophecies are worth the air it takes to speak them,” Bjarni rumbled. “The Jotunn witch who bore Magni gave Thor that particular one, along with news that he’d fathered her son. There's no denying your mate’s paternity, but not everyone believes her so-called prophecy.”
“By ‘everyone,' do you mean your own father?” Modi bit. “The one who sired Jörmungandr, Fenrir, and Hel, all three of whom will play their part in Ragnarök?”
He turned to me, anger splotching his cheeks. “There’s a reason Odin wanted to execute those three. Loki and his offspring have an ugly tendency to get everyone killed.”
I was pretty sure I was having an out-of-body experience, sitting between two gods arguing over how exactly the end of the world would come about while a scratchy speaker above us implored the panicked passengers to stay calm, and something about whale sightings.
“None of this matters,” I said softly, reaching a hand out to either side. Bjarni grabbed mine without thought, Modi more hesitantly. “We need to save Saga and Magni. What comes after that, we’ll worry about then.”
Fourteen
Bjarni
We took a train from Chicago to Seattle. Modi flat-out refused to get on another plane after we finally landed in O’Hare, and I wasn’t about to start arguing.
I’d not flown a lot during my time in Midgard, but what little experience I had was enough for me to know that I strongly preferred both my feet on the ground, even if it was covered in snow.
The urgency of getting to my father had anxiety clenching at my gut, but when I looked down at Annabel who’d nestled up by my side, I regretted not insisting we stop and rest before continuing our journey. It’d been too many hours since any of us had gotten any rest, and we were all feeling it.
“Can you not take up so much space?” the little omega growled next to me as she squirmed to get comfortable in her seat. “I still have a crick in my neck from that godawful flight, and I just want to breathe! You’re like a goddamn furnace.”
“You allow her too much leeway,” Modi said from his seat across from us. He stared disapprovingly at Annabel’s irritated scowl. “No omega I’ve met has dared give an alpha this much lip.”
“Maybe you’re just not used to omegas who aren’t afraid to tell you when they’re tired of your shit,” Annabel hissed.
I sighed, pulling her closer to me despite her squirming to put distance between us. “You, settle down and go to sleep. It’s fucking freezing out there—be happy you’ve got an alpha to keep you warm. And you.” I leveled Modi with a stare. “Try to not antagonize an omega running on zero sleep and an entire plane of existence’s separation from her mates, hmm? You’re supposed to be better than that, right, Thorsson?”
Modi had the good grace to look away, heat I chose to read as embarrassment coloring his cheeks.
Annabel, on the other hand, huffed out an insult about overbearing alphas, but a few moments later she stopped squirming and settled against me. It didn’t take long before her breathing turned slow and steady.
I leaned back in my seat with a sigh, wishing I too could catch some sleep. I looked across at Modi, noticing how his gaze rested on Annabel’s sleeping form. Irritation fizzled in my chest, but I smothered it. Even a prick like Modi would find it hard to completely ignore the primitive yearnings this little omega provoked.
“I’ll take first watch,” I said, drawing his attention. When he realized I’d seen him staring at Annabel, he flushed again and narrowed his eyes defensively. As if I didn’t know how impossible it was to keep your attention off her.
“You think I’ll sleep while you keep watch over me?"
I arched an eyebrow. “It’s a two-day ride. I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna need some shuteye or I won’t be worth a lick of salt. Pretty sure we can both agree it’d be dumb to kill each other before we’ve freed our brothers.”
His lips flattened in resigned annoyance. “I guess I’ll need my strength when we face Loki.”
“For what? He’s my father—he’ll help us.”
Modi stared at me incredulously. “You actually think we’re just gonna walk in there, tell Loki that Odin wants him brought back in chains, and he’ll voluntarily come along to get executed?”
“Of course not,” I huffed. “But he is the God of Mischief. He’ll come up with a plan, or some sort of illusion to avoid death. He’ll come with us—he’s not gonna let Saga and Grim die.”
Modi was silent for a long time, his eyes never leaving mine. Finally he said, “You really believe that. You think Loki, the betrayer who brought about the literal end of the world, cares enough about anyone to risk his own skin? Have you had a hard look around at the other creatures you share blood with? Did he care when Narfi was murdered? Why would he care about you three when he doesn’t for anything else he’s fathered? Or mothered, for that matter.”
I frowned. I’d never known my half-brother Narfi. Loki had only mentioned him once during a visit when we were young. He’d laughed as he'd told the story of how Odin sought to hurt him by having one of his children killed, yet the god-king still happily rode around on Sleipner, the eight-legged horse Loki had given birth to after some misadventure with a vengeful Jotunn.
But Narfi had died long before any of us were born. My father was never a warm man, but he’d ensured Grim, Saga, and I were well-cared-for as we grew up. He’d even visited us semi-regularly and gifted us Arni and Magga.
I glanced down at Annabel and breathed in deeply as my gaze dropped to her still-flat belly. One day she’d bear us children, and even now, I knew I’d lay down my own life for them without a moment’s hesitation.
“You know very little about my father’s motivations, Thorsson, but know this: He is not behind Ragnarök, whatever you’ve been told. He has gone out of his way to attempt to secure our survival, ensuring the omega fated to stop this madness was brought to us.
“What has your father done to see you through the end of the world? Nothing. His plans for you are to feed you to Sutr’s army and watch you die. Don’t worry about what my father will risk for his sons—worry about what will happen to your own family if we fail to stop Ragnarök.”
Modi’s stare turned hard, but he didn’t argue. After a little while, he twisted in his seat and turned his shoulder to me, his eyelids closing.
It took nearly an hour, but eventually, his breathing slowed as he allowed himself to drift asleep, his sworn enemy watching over him as he did.
The sky was dark when we arrived in Seattle, yet the local time was just after noon.
I glanced up as we stepped out of the station, shielding Annabel from the howling wind flinging more icy snow at the already blanketed city. Above us the clouds were thick and gray, and I breathed a small sigh of relief. Miserable as the blizzard was, at least the sun had yet to be swallowed, plunging Midgard into darkness.
Which meant we still had some time.
“I’ve never seen the city this quiet,” Annabel said as she stared at the abandoned streets thick with ever-amassing snow. “Looks like even the cafes and bars have closed down.”
“You know this place?” Modi asked. He was taking it in with both eyebrows locked in a frown, mouth set in a grim line.
“My parents live a couple of hours west. They took me here often when I was growing up,” she said, her voice quieting. One look at her face and I knew
what she was thinking.
“We don’t have time to visit them, Annabel. Our task is too important for detours,” I warned, pulling her in closer at the sadness in her brown eyes. “Maybe once this is all over.”
Her obvious heartache made me want to promise her the stars. Unlike my brothers, I got why she still had love for the family who’d deceived her into coming to us.
But this was Ragnarök. Even if we did manage to find a way to stop it, the odds weren’t in favor of her parents making it through.
“Maybe,” she agreed, looking away from me. She knew too.
“Do you know the way to Loki’s location?” Modi asked. Whether he was oblivious to Annabel’s pain or trying to distract her from it, I didn’t know.
“No,” she said, frowning. “It was a green door next to a butcher’s, but I didn’t recognize the street.”
“Then you’ll need to search for it,” he said, pulling off his right glove so he could reach for her nape.
She cringed as if she feared his touch, but didn’t move away. When his fingers closed around her slim neck, she dug her fingers into my arm for support.
“I thought you said her power was too low to do more magic yet,” I growled. “I’m sure I don’t have to remind you what happens if you hurt her.”
Modi leveled me with a stare. “You want to screw her in the street and get her juiced back up again? It might be hard for her to concentrate with hypothermia. Or maybe the piss-covered privy back inside is more to your taste? She is rested—she will have enough for a minor location search.”
I bared my teeth at him, half in anger that he’d suggest I’d do anything to harm her, half in annoyance that he had a point.
“It’s all right,” Annabel said softly, squeezing my arm to get my hackles down again. “I’ve got enough. I can do this, especially with Modi’s help.”
Especially with Modi’s help.
I let those bothersome words rumble around in my head while they did whatever it was they did together.
I’d never been bothered by my lack of magical inclination, even growing up with two brothers who were particularly skilled at it. I was strong, and an excellent fighter, and whenever I'd encountered a problem that required something other than brawn, Grim had been there to sort it out.
But right now, as I looked at Annabel and Modi standing so still, his fingers around her nape as if she were his, I understood that what they shared I could never be a part of.
It’d become obvious that Annabel was powerful—very, very powerful, despite her lack of experience with magic. Up until now, it’d only made me want to see her submit to me even more, like a good mate would for her alpha. But knowing that Modi, my enemy who didn’t care one whit about her, shared that sacred power with her? That he could guide her and teach her how to use it?
That fucking sucked.
I’d never worried how I might connect with the omega I’d been destined to mate. I’d never been concerned I might not live up to what she wanted in a mate. Not even after meeting her, not even after knowing I’d love her, had I worried.
As I watched them now, I realized there was very little her and I could share in the same way she shared this with Modi.
I was a simple man with simple desires. I enjoyed fighting, eating, and fucking. I missed tending to my sheep and sharing food and laughter with my brothers at night.
Annabel was anything but simple.
While I knew I’d love her, perhaps she wouldn’t love me. She’d have four other mates, after all, four alphas who would do their best to please her, who’d be able to share conversations about history and magic with her in ways I never could.
It was funny, if you had a dark sense of humor. A thousand years I’d waited for her, and never once had I considered what life would be like with a woman who might look at me and find me wanting. What she’d have liked in her mate, had she had a choice in the matter.
And yet now, after finally understanding that her sole purpose in life wasn’t to stay locked up in our farm, bearing us sons and giving us pleasure, one thing was certain: If Fate hadn’t wanted it so, she’d likely never have chosen me.
Annabel staggered, pulling me out of my souring mood. She gasped and opened her eyes just as I caught her by the elbow, ensuring she stayed upright.
“I found it,” she whispered, voice so raspy and weak my self-pity vanished in the blink of an eye, concern taking its place.
“You pushed too hard,” I growled, gathering her up in my arms as her knees buckled. Glaring at Modi, I added, “You pushed her too hard!”
“She is fine,” he said, dismissing my anger with a shake of his head. “She didn’t touch her life-force. Now let’s go.”
Annabel led us through the deserted city from the safety of my arms, guiding us down snow-covered streets for several miles until finally she told me to stop in front of a closed butcher shop.
“It’s in there,” she said, pointing at a peeling green door next to it.
Modi took a step toward it, raised his boot-clad foot, and kicked through the old wood. It splintered, leaving a large enough gap that he could reach through and open the door from the inside.
“After you,” he said, waving me toward the opening. “As you said—he’s your father.”
I huffed, half-contemplating calling him a coward, but he did have a point. Loki never shied away from setting up traps meant to stop anyone from sneaking up on him.
I only hesitated for a moment before I handed Annabel to him, the displeasure of seeing her in his arms outweighed by my need to ensure she didn’t get caught in any accidental crossfire.
The hallway was narrow, and the yellow paint on it peeled worse than the door. A musty smell permeated the air as I made my way through, bringing notes of decay and animal feces with it.
Was this really where my father had been hiding out?
“Loki?” I called into the quietude. “Father, it’s me—Bjarni. I’ve come to seek your aid.”
A familiar squawk greeted me faintly from behind a thin apartment door, and my heart leapt into my chest. Finally. We’d found him.
I grabbed the knob and twisted, and the door slid open without resistance.
It took my eyes a few moments to adjust to the low light in the small apartment. Heavy curtains covered the two windows in what turned out to be the main living room, but after a moment, I could see the space entirely.
On the left end was a small kitchenette with a door leading into what looked like a moldy little bathroom. By the window next to it was a twin-sized bed, and to my right stood a velvet wingback armchair in front of a dead fireplace.
On the mantelpiece Arni sat, the only proof of life amongst the shadows.
When our eyes connected, the raven flapped his wings and squawked again, a cry which morphed into a voice more borrowed than mastered. “Took you long enough.”
“Arni,” I greeted, reaching out an arm in invitation. “Where’s my father? And Magga?”
“Is that…?” Modi trailed off behind me. When I looked over my shoulder I saw Annabel supporting herself against his arm as he led her across the doorstep into the apartment.
“Is that one of Odin’s ravens?” Modi finished, eyes wide with surprise.
“One of our ravens,” I said, turning my attention back to Arni still perched on the mantelpiece. “They’ve been in our family for centuries. Come, winged friend. Tell me where my father is.”
He shook out his feathers, but didn’t obey the invitation. Odd. Both he and his sister loved to sit on me when they visited.
“Loki is gone. He left me with a message to you,” the raven said. “He was very angry that you allowed the girl to look for him. He didn’t wish to be found.”
“This is an emergency,” I said, frowning as Arni shifted. He looked disheveled, as if he hadn’t preened his feathers for a few days. “Odin has Saga and Grim locked up in Valhalla. Tell me where he is—we need to speak with him.”
“He will allow your co
mpany for a short visit, but only yours. Your companions cannot follow. If they do, he will not be pleased,” Arni said, his feathers rising once again before finally he took flight, landing on my shoulder with a small bump.
He was lighter than normal, I noted, my confusion turning to concern.
“Are you ill, old friend?” I asked, cooing softly at the bird as I reached into my pockets for some of the leftover scraps of what we’d bought on the train. “Here, have a bit of food.”
“What do you mean, we can’t follow?” Modi broke in. “What trickery does the traitor have up his sleeve that he will only see his son?”
“Loki doesn’t trust them,” Arni crowed between alien clicks and rolls of his tongue. “Don’t bring them, or you will surely regret it. Swear an oath that you will seek him out on your own, and I will tell you the location.”
“This is silly,” I protested, frowning when he turned his beak away from the offered food. “I can’t leave the omega behind. He of all people would understand that. He’s gone to great lengths to get her to us, after all. Tell me where he is.”
“An oath is the only way you will find him,” Arni insisted.
“Bjarni, it’s okay.” Annabel's voice was still so weak just the thought of leaving her behind had every primitive instinct in my gut roaring. “I… I need to rest anyway, and this is too important. Modi can protect me while you go speak with your father.”
Modi can protect me.
Her words did little to calm the already grated emotions throbbing in my blood, but she was right—Modi could protect her. And this was too important. If I didn’t speak with my father, everything was lost.
“I swear on my blood, I will seek Loki on my own,” I said. “How long will it take to reach him?”
Arni clenched his talons deeper into my shoulder. “Two days,” he said in another rasping, stolen voice—a mimicry of someone far more human. “I will lead you there.”
“Two days?” I nearly refused. I looked back over my shoulder at Annabel, fear clawing at my gut.