by Nora Ash
She whipped around so fast I thought she might fall, but she managed to keep her balance this time. “Don’t you dare question my love for my mates, nor my devotion! You, of all people! Do you love your brothers? You say if I die, they will too—yet the one thing you can do to prevent this, you won’t?
“You claim this is all some grand, sacrificial gesture to make sure your brothers survive Ragnarök, yet you refuse to bond with me so you can experience exactly what your plan will do to them. You’re a coward, Grim—a pathetic coward, hiding behind martyrdom. You want your powers back? Then you will learn what true pain is. What it means to sacrifice.”
Her words hung in the air between us, violent and raw. I stared at her, fury pounding in my temples, and took in her flared nostrils and the hate in her eyes, the way her fingertips dug into Mimir’s cheeks, making the prophet wince though he—for once—stayed silent.
“You know nothing of sacrifice,” I hissed. “You spoiled, impudent little girl.”
I would have continued. Would have unleashed all my hatred and bile on the woman whose mere existence had brought about my destruction. But before I could let the words spill out of my burning throat, movement behind Annabel caught my attention—and my heart stilled.
What had looked like just another rock formation half-hidden behind trees and undergrowth rolled to one side and then rose, taking the shape of a great, lumbering mountain troll brandishing the snapped-off bottom half of a young fir tree as a club.
His beady eyes zeroed in on Annabel’s small figure and a cruel grin spread on his ugly face.
Then he came for her.
Eleven
Annabel
“Annabel! Run!”
The change in Grim’s demeanor was so sudden and complete, it took me a second to process his command. One moment he’d looked like he wanted nothing more than to tear my head from my shoulders. The next, pure terror washed over his features—a look so alien on his pale face it made my heart skip a beat.
On instinct, I looked over my shoulder just as a thud rung through air and made the hillside shake.
A great, gray monster rose behind me, similar in appearance to the troll that’d nearly killed Grim in the creek: a huge, gray body, thickly muscled limbs, and a round face with small, black eyes and protruding fangs. Though where the other troll had been furry, this one’s skin was bare and roughly textured, giving the impression it was made from rock.
It was also much, much bigger. And it was lumbering down the hill.
Toward me.
My stomach dropped, terror kicking through my veins. Clutching Mimir to my chest, I leapt forward, forcing my exhausted muscles to sprint. The second I passed him, Grim turned around and followed me.
“Faster, Annabel,” he snarled behind me. “Faster!”
But I couldn’t run any faster. Maybe if I hadn’t been so drained, I would have been able to outrun it, but ten steps in and my muscles were already screaming, my vision blurring.
I didn’t see the root in my path. One minute I was forcing myself forward, teeth gritted against the fatigue. The next, my face smacked against soil, and I slid a few feet on my stomach before coming to a halt. Mimir went flying out of my grasp, bumping a few times as he rolled down the path.
“Shit!” Grim skidded to a stop by my side, cool hands grabbing hold under my armpits—but before he could haul me to my feet, a great shadow fell over my prone body.
“Stars be damned!” Grim snarled, releasing me. For a dazed moment, I thought he was going to leave me behind, but then the metallic slide of his daggers being yanked out of their sheaths sang through the air.
I managed to roll around just in time to see the dark-haired alpha take up stance between me and the troll, weapons at the ready.
He was strong; powerful beyond any mortal, even without his magic. Yet seeing him before that huge monster made my gut clench with uninvited terror.
Alpha god or no, he was still one man with two slivers of metal against a beast who looked like it had been carved from the mountains themselves. And if he died, all I loved would die with him.
The troll paused, as if it couldn’t quite comprehend that anyone would be dumb enough to get in the way of its intended prey. Then it roared, the trees around us shaking with the force of it, and raised its enormous club.
Grim dodged out of the way and leapt up, digging both daggers into the side of the beast and using them for leverage to pull himself up.
The troll roared again and swung its cudgel-free hand, smacking into Grim and ripping the daggers from its flesh. He crashed to the ground, rolling twice before he sprang back to his feet, but the troll was already moving toward me again.
“No, no, no!” I kicked against the ground, digging my heels into the soil to push away, but it was too little and too late. Thick fingers the size of tree branches closed around my torso and hauled me into the air.
I shrieked and clawed at its hand, but to my frail human fingers, its skin might as well have been truly hewn from rock. My nails broke against its rough hide, my feet impacting with nothing but air as I kicked.
The troll lifted me up, up, up until I was face to face with its boulder-like head.
It’s going to eat me!
The thought came unbidden, the pure terror of it making me scream the first thing that came to me.
“Grim! Grim!”
The troll pulled me closer to its face, its breath hitting me fully in the face. The stench of rotting meat made me gag.
Not like this. Please, not like this!
A snarl ripped through the air, followed by the troll’s angry growl. It dropped its club and swiveled around, grabbing for something over its shoulder.
Grim appeared on its other shoulder, teeth bared and eyes flaming with pure rage. I’d seen Bjarni succumb to battle lust before, had felt his berserker rage throb in our bond as he’d fought Nidhug. He was a warrior through and through, a true Viking god. I’d never imagined his icy younger brother possessed the same fire, but as Grim clung to the monster’s neck with his knees and raised his daggers to strike, I finally saw it: the wild, primal power within him that was born not of mist and shadow, but blood and flesh and bone.
Quicker than the troll could readjust, Grim raised both daggers and dug them deep into the Troll’s neck.
Gray blood sprayed out. The beast bellowed, furious now, and swung around again—this time releasing its grip on me to grab for Grim with both hands.
I flew through the air and crashed into the ground, my head smacking hard against the surface.
“Annabel!”
Blackness swallowed me whole.
My throbbing head was the first sensation that greeted me once my consciousness slowly returned.
“Eugh,” I protested, squinting to protect my sore head from any sudden bursts of light. But the air above me was dark, only a faint flicker of light playing along the stony ceiling.
I was in a cave.
Muddy thoughts of the troll snapped back into my tender brain, and I gasped in a breath. Had it captured me? Was Grim—
As if summoned by the mere thought of his name, the dark-haired Lokisson appeared above me. He stared down at me, brows locked in a frown. “Can you see me?”
“Yeah, of course I can see you,” I croaked. “What happened?”
He pressed his cool fingertips against my temples on both sides. The light pressure on the right side smarted, and I cringed. “Any nausea?”
“No,” I said. “The troll? Are we safe?”
Grim exhaled a slow breath and leaned back on his heels, seemingly content that I wasn’t extra-dying. “Yes. For now.”
“Is he still looking for us?” I whispered, the thought of being attacked by that monstrosity again sending shivers up my back.
“No. He is dead.” Grim didn’t take his eyes off mine. “But there are others like him in these parts. And worse. You could have died today.”
I had an inkling where he was going, but I wasn’t biting
. “So could you.”
Grim bared his teeth at me, but there was more irritation than anger in his eyes. “Are you truly that stubborn? You want revenge so bad you’re willing to kill your mates? It’s not a matter of if, Annabel—it’s when, if you don’t return my use of my powers.”
My chest clenched like it always did when I thought of what I was gambling, but I forced my expression to remain calm. Without Grim, everything would be lost, regardless of mine and my mates’ deaths. That was the reason for my bargain. In that awful moment of clarity when I’d seen my means of escape smashed to pieces on that beach and heard him tell me I was his soulmate—and that it meant nothing to him—that was when I’d realized that my only chance of saving the nine worlds and my mates was to chain Grim to my heart with a matebond.
I’d hated mine when they were first forced on me. Hated how tightly they bound me, how completely enslaved I was to them. It hadn’t mattered. With each bite on my neck, I’d given myself completely to the alphas who’d claimed me.
But it worked both ways. As bound to them as I was, they were equally so to me—dedicated to protect me till their last breaths. Which is why, despite the aching bonds behind my ribs screaming at me to take Grim’s offer and protect myself and the men I loved, I only raised an eyebrow at him.
“And you? Are you too much of a coward to see for yourself what kind of pain you’re inflicting?”
His nostrils flared, mismatched eyes darkening. For the longest moment, we stared at each other in silence, each waiting for the other to break.
Finally he drew in a deep sigh and rose to his feet. “Fine. You win. I will claim you.”
I blinked, not entirely sure I’d heard right. “You… You will?”
“If that is truly what it takes for you to remove this band, it is pointless to continue this argument.” Considering how much of a fight he’d put up, he seemed… nearly indifferent now. He moved out of my field of vision and I sat up to follow him, leery of a trap.
A campfire burned in the middle of the cave. On the ground around us several animal hides were strewn, logs and rocks organized in piles.
He’d taken me to the troll’s cave, I realized.
“Just like that?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.
“Just like that,” he repeated, poking idly at the fire with a long stick.
“No tricks?”
He gave me a contemptuous look.
“All right, then. I’m glad. I guess I’ll… let you know when my heat comes around.” I hadn’t really thought through what it’d be like—being claimed by Grim. The physicality of it.
Determinedly, I pushed those thoughts down until they were nothing but a murmur. I knew from experience that I would care way less about embarrassment and awkwardness once the urges to mate awoke in me. I’d worry about having to get naked and intimate with the cold god then.
“Where’s Mimir?” I asked, partly to change the subject and partly because the memory of him bumping down the hill after my first fall came back to me, along with a wave of worry.
“Likely where you left him,” Grim said without so much as looking up from the fire this time.
I gasped, outraged. “You left him? What if some other troll finds him?!”
“We should be so lucky,” he mumbled.
Angrily I pushed up into a seated position, pausing for a moment as my head spun and throbbed. “I know you’ve gone all dark side, but leaving a defenseless man to be trampled or eaten by monsters is low, even for you.”
Grim snorted. “Defenseless? He lured me to sleep and had a Nightmare attack me. He’s far more powerful than he likes to pretend, plum. You shouldn’t let your soft heart forget that.”
I glared at him. “He’s a head. You’re really so vindictive you’d let a divine prophet die just because he had to use trickery to escape you? Do I have to remind you that you’re the bad guy?”
Grim finally looked at me over his shoulder, resting his knuckles against his knees. A dark sheet of his hair fell over his face, concealing his lighter eye. “I know you think so.”
I shook my head and forced myself to my feet. The world spun once, then stilled. “Grim, you’re literally doing everything you can to bring about the end of nine worlds. It doesn’t get much more bad guy than that.”
“And yet you insist I claim you,” he murmured softly, not taking his gaze off me. “An evil, vengeful god. The villain of your story. What does that make you, Annabel?”
“Desperate,” I said, my voice as quiet as his. Without waiting for a reply, I turned toward the yawning mouth of the cave and headed for it.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Grim’s voice cracked like a whip, the softness gone.
“To find Mimir.” I looked at him over my shoulder. “Chill out. I’m not attempting a grand escape. Even if I could make it more than half a mile before collapsing, it would be pretty counterproductive to leave you behind, now that you’ve agreed to my bargain.”
“You’re not leaving this cave until my powers are restored,” he said, getting to his feet. “There are far too many trolls in this area, and I won’t be able to take down another. Not for a few days.”
Only then did I notice that he was holding his left arm close to his body and carrying most of his weight on his right leg. He hadn’t come out of that battle unscathed.
“I’m not leaving Mimir out there,” I said. “Besides, who knows if one of that troll’s friends won’t stop by for a visit? I don’t think this place is any safer than out there.”
“Mountain trolls aren’t social creatures—they usually don’t cross into each other’s territories if they can avoid it. This cave is the only place we won’t risk another attack. And you are staying, Annabel.” He took a step toward me, intent in every line of his face.
“Then you should have brought Mimir when you took me here,” I said. “I’m not trying to be difficult—I’d rather avoid another monster encounter too—but I can’t leave him in the mud in the middle of troll territory.”
Grim stared at me for another long second before he pulled his nostrils up in a sneer. “Fine. I’ll get him. But I swear, if you are not here when I return, I am cutting off his tongue, gouging out his eyes, and slicing off his ears. Do you understand?”
I swallowed thickly before nodding. “Got it.”
He shot me another dark glare, pulled out his daggers, and then stalked out of the cave.
I stared after him for a long couple of seconds. For someone who seemed to take offense to being called a bad guy, he sure had a way of saying the most villainous things.
* * *
It didn’t take long before Grim returned, this time with his daggers sheathed and Mimir’s mud-dripping head dangling from one hand. He was carrying him by a fistful of hair, and from the angry sounds coming from the prophet, he was none too pleased about it.
“…spect for your elders!” Mimir barked. I didn’t catch the first part, but I didn’t need to.
“Grim! That’s not okay!” I said, rushing over to grab the prophet from him.
Grim released his grip without protest and headed toward the fire.
“Are you okay?” I asked Mimir, making sure I cupped his head by the jaw as I lifted him up to inspect him for damage. Thankfully, apart from the mud and a few bruises, he seemed unharmed.
“Your mother should have drowned you before you could crawl,” the prophet snarled in Grim’s direction. Anger still flashed in his eyes when he turned his focus to me, but his tone turned somewhat milder. “I am, no thanks to that brute. I have a good mind to teach him what it’s liked to be hauled around by the scalp.”
“That would require hands,” Grim shot back.
“Ignore him,” I interjected when Mimir’s eyes widened with outrage and he opened his mouth, undoubtedly to retaliate. “He’s just in a bad mood because he finally realized I’m not taking off his ring before he claims me.”
Mimir’s mouth slackened, his gaze flicking to me, to Grim, an
d then to me again. “He… agreed?” His voice was quiet now, almost a whisper.
I nodded. “Apparently we’re camping out here until… my heat. He says it’s safer.”
“It is. But…” Mimir frowned. “If I were you, I’d be wary, plum. He must know a matebond will increase his urges to protect you exponentially. I’d bet a good horn of mead he’s got something sinister planned.”
“I’m sure he does. But it’s the only chance I have at changing his mind. And we need him—you know we do,” I whispered, glancing over my shoulder to make sure we hadn’t caught Grim’s attention. But the darkhaired alpha showed exactly zero interest in either of us.
“We do,” Mimir agreed. “But we need you as well. You are the key, Annabel. If you are lost, there will be no more Asgard, no more Midgard—no more of anything. Don’t put your faith in his better nature. He may not have one.”
After a while, the offensive stench of mountain troll numbed my sense of smell. It made staying in the cave much more tolerable, but after four days, I was about to lose my mind.
At least I thought it had been four days—Grim refused to let me so much as look outside, and without hunger or thirst, it was difficult to gauge the passage of time. All I knew was that we had been there forever, twiddling our thumbs while Ragnarök proceeded as planned in the living realms.
I was beginning to suspect that this was why Grim had accepted my bargain. If I was stuck in a cave instead of searching for ways to escape Hel, he didn’t need his magic to protect me, nor did he need to expend any energy in stopping me. He just had to wait until it was too late for me to do anything anyway.
I didn’t know how long I’d have to wait for my heat to make an entrance. Supposedly it was a monthly thing for omegas, but I wasn’t sure there had been a month between my two previous heats, nor exactly how long since my last one. And clearly my hormones were all kinds of fucked up anyway, given my singular period since I’d been pulled into this mythological clusterfuck. It could be weeks before my heat. Months, if I was really lucky.