Betraying Destiny

by Nora Ash

  Mimir seemed to be doing his best to distract me from my darkening thoughts. He told me stories of his many adventures before he lost his body, most of them about his and Odin’s travels.

  “Are you still good friends with the god-king?” I asked after he finished a tale of an old woman they came across while disguised as peddlers. She had bought a pretty comb from them, haggling with the two gods until they sold her the trinket well below its value just to get rid of her. But she had wished them “Odin’s blessings” as they parted, and in return, Odin had indeed blessed her—with youth.

  And later on that evening, he’d blessed her again, this time with a child, much to the dismay of his queen.

  “He sounds kind of... vain and unfaithful, for a supposedly wise god. But I could be biased—I’ve not been a fan since he tried to have my mates killed.”

  Mimir chuffed through his nose. “Gods and men are much alike, in that aspect. We all have flaws. Odin has all days vied for recognition and worship from mortals.”

  “And your own flaws?” I pried.

  Mimir gave me a half-smile. “Too numerous to count, plum, pride perhaps chiefly among them. No, Odin and I are no longer friends like we were.”

  “Is that why you lived in that well before you were taken here? Did Odin banish you there?” He seemed the type to banish people to wells.

  “I chose the well of my own free will. Its waters bring wisdom. I did not, however, choose to leave.”

  I resisted the urge to suggest he might have decided to live by the well, rather than in it, but who was I to deny a bodiless god his quirks? “And the creature that took your place? Was it drawn by the water too?” I shuddered at the memory of the thing that had nearly killed Magni.

  Mimir gave me a long look. “I suspect it was placed in my well after I was taken.”

  “You think someone deliberately set a trap for us? But who could have known we’d be going there? Verdandi wouldn’t tell anyone—I think. I mean, I don’t know her, but—”

  “Verdandi would never betray you,” Mimir interrupted. “Think, child. Who would gain from your death?”

  “Loki,” I said. “If he could have stopped me, then—”

  “Loki was hiding in Midgard then,” Grim broke in. I jolted at the sound of his voice—he’d ignored me ever since fetching Mimir, and I’d more or less gotten used to him being a silent shadow.

  “He is right,” Mimir said softly. “The trickster god had no access to my well.”

  I frowned. But who else would have gone to the lengths of planting some vicious monster in hopes it killed me? If Loki was behind the coming of Ragnarök, if he wanted me out of the way bad enough to have had Grim lure me to Hel—

  I jerked upright, my spine straightening. If Loki had wanted me dead, why hadn’t he left me to die along with Modi and Bjarni when we’d faced Nidhug? He could have run, saved his own skin, and gotten rid of us all in one fell sweep.

  “Loki isn’t behind this,” I murmured, more to myself than anyone else. “I was wrong.”

  They were staring at me, Grim with darkness in his eyes, Mimir with intent, but they were both silent—unable to tell me anything more, thanks to whatever spell had been put on them to keep them quiet.

  How long had Grim been working for them? Before we arrived at Valhalla? Or had he been turned after?

  I spent the next couple of hours in silence, working over what little information I had of who might be behind it all. It’d been a sort of comfort, really, when I was sure it was Loki. Not knowing was infinitely scarier, even if some small part of me was relieved we wouldn’t have to kill Bjarni and Saga’s father.

  But would we have to kill Modi and Magni’s? I remembered my concerns—concerns Bjarni had shared—when Magni’s pleas for help to get us back from Seattle had gone ignored. And I remembered the power of the entity that had faced Saga and me during our trials to enter Asgard.

  Wasn’t Thor supposed to be the mightiest god of them all?

  As far as evidence went, it was weak. I’d accused Loki too hastily, ignoring how easy it would have been for him to end my life without having his son kidnap me to Hel. Sure, before I knew he couldn’t have been behind the well creature, I’d assumed he had some nefarious and magical reasons for not killing me the old-fashioned way, but I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I wasn’t going to do that again. Even if Thor had proven to be a prime jerk and an awful father, it didn’t necessarily mean that he was trying to bring about the end of everything that’d ever lived.

  But who, then?

  I rubbed irritably at my neck, the sweat on it making me itchy. I didn’t know nearly enough about the intricacies of the gods to hazard a guess, and yet somehow it was my job to figure out not only who was behind this whole catastrophe, but also stop them. Because why not? It wasn’t like Asgard was littered with literal gods who could maybe get off their collective asses and do something about it.

  The feathers decorating my armor brushed against my throat, aggravating it, and the leather clung to my chest, overheating my body.

  Growling, I pulled at the feathery piece, intent on freeing myself from its constrictive confines, when realization struck and my fingers stilled.

  I was sweating.

  Slowly I lowered my hands, my mind switching from trying to puzzle out the betrayer’s identity to the here and now.

  My blood felt too warm in my veins, and when I focused inward, my pulse drew me down to the heavy press low in my abdomen.

  It was happening.

  I bit my lip, anxiety flaring as I glanced over my shoulder at Grim. He was staring blankly into the fire, an unmoving sentinel, just like he had for the past four days. Waiting.

  I should have felt relief; I’d been waiting for this. Once it was done, we could continue our search for a way out of Hel, and Grim…. Grim would learn that there was no choice but for us to fight against Ragnarök. Together.

  But… I rubbed a hand against my chest, the leather still too tight on my skin, eying him again. This was… so very different than it had been with my four other mates. Saga, Magni, and Bjarni had all been keen to bed me, eager to put their marks on my neck. Even Modi, who’d been reluctant at first, was all heat and primal urges underneath.

  Grim? Grim was ice and shadow and hate.

  My supposed soulmate, who had killed me without hesitance.

  Enough wallowing, Annabel. No amount of trepidation was going to change what had to happen now.

  Trying to will my hands to stop shaking, I began to undo the straps tying my armor in place. First the plumed chest piece, then the wrist guards. My boots. I kneeled and undid my belt and leather trousers, sliding them and my panties off my thighs, until I was naked.

  Still warmth licked along my veins, the momentary relief of being bare drowning as my temperature climbed. There was only one thing that would bring me true relief.

  I walked on bare feet across the cave floor toward the fire. And Grim.

  Only when I stopped by his side did he glance up at me.

  “What—?” His smokey voice quieted as he took me in, eyes sweeping up the length of my body, pausing for a long second at the apex of my thighs. When he met my gaze again, dark determination shone in his.

  Without another word, he rose to his feet and turned fully toward me.

  He stood so close, his natural coldness leeching through the distance between us, pulling on me with the whispered promise of relief. His scent, though still dimmed by Hel, seemed stronger now. Delicious. Alpha.

  Uninvited images of licking his throat popped into my head, and I swayed toward him, my body momentarily taking over.

  His cool, strong hands closed around my forearms, stopping me. The shock of his chilled skin against mine pulled me out of it enough to draw my focus from his throat to his eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” I blurted. “I… I’m not sure how to do this.”

  It was true. The other times, I had been so deep in my heat my instincts had taken over, makin
g me say and do things I wouldn’t have if I’d still been in control of my mind.

  Now? It was still early, and I still had the ability to feel shame. My body hummed with interest at Grim’s presence, heat pulsing more heavily in my womb, but it wasn’t strong enough to force me to my knees and beg for him to mount me.

  I should have waited until it was.

  “I’m sorry,” I repeated, pulling away from his grip. I turned around before I could see the look on his face and retreated to my corner. Without looking back, I dropped down on the dried skin I’d used as a bed these past few nights, wrapped my arms around my knees, and pressed my face into them to wait for the sweet oblivion of my full heat.

  Hours. It would be hours of increasing torture before it crested, if the past two times were anything to go by. I gritted my teeth and clasped my knees harder, trying to push down a sudden wave of despair. If my mates had been here, they would’ve seen me through this without shame or misery. They would’ve surrounded me with love and laughter, inflicted upon me guilt-free pleasure until every cell in my body was sated and my mind at peace.

  Peace.

  It had been mine for the briefest of moments, that night in the arms of the four men who loved me, before I’d been ripped from them again. I longed to be back there on the soft furs in that room in Valhalla, longed for it so much my heart ached.

  A cold touch on my shoulder made me draw in a sharp breath, my sadness scattering. I hadn’t heard Grim approach.

  He wrapped his strong fingers around my braid, then tugged, pulling my head back. He knelt down behind me, his body dwarfing mine as he bent his head to murmur into my ear, “Have you changed your mind, omega? Are you no longer interested in fucking me?”

  I swallowed thickly, unsure how to respond. Was he toying with me? Mocking me? My blood pulsed, heating my thoughts until they were too hazy to grasp.

  Grim leaned in closer, and I shivered as the chill of his body enveloped me from behind, making every hair stand on end and my nipples tighten. Still keeping his fist locked in my hair, he ran his nose up the side of my neck, a rough noise escaping his lips that woke my clit with a shudder.

  “You smell almost like you did that night at our farm on the cusp of your first heat. So needy. Your scent nearly drove my brothers to force you up against the kitchen counter.”

  “I remember,” I croaked. “You stopped them. Was it… Was it for their sake? Or mine?”

  He only snarled in response and slipped his free arm around my midriff.

  Even through his leather armor, it was such an intimate embrace from the alpha who had barely stomached my presence up until now. I drew in a shuddering breath, my mind reeling, but my body reacted on pure instinct, leaning into the man whose scent and touch promised blessed relief.

  “Were you scared your first time underneath the Thorsson bastard?” he asked, his quiet voice surprising me as much as the question itself.

  I looked at him over my shoulder, tried to decipher his intentions, but his face revealed no emotion.

  “Yes,” I said. “I was. But the heat was… more insistent. I didn’t register much else apart from the need.”

  He chuffed a breath through his nose, but it wasn’t quite a laugh. “And now? Are you still afraid?”

  “Yes,” I admitted softly, because it was the truth. “But not of the sex—of what comes after.”

  “What comes after is your doing,” he reminded me, a thread of anger in his voice. “Remember that.”

  He yanked my head back harder, making me arch my back and drop to my knees with a grunt of pain, before gliding his hand down my stomach and between my thighs.

  I keened without meaning to, my knees spreading wide of their own accord. His fingers skimmed my still-hooded clit and I cried out again, a zing of pleasure tightening my spine. His skin was like ice against my molten flesh, heightening the sensation as he delicately traced the small fold hiding that bundle of nerves.

  “Grim… touch me there,” I gasped, all thoughts other than need fleeing my mind, all traces of embarrassment lost to the undertow of lust.

  He breathed against my neck, the air on my skin as cool as his fingertips pulling back on my hood, exposing my clit.

  “Yes,” I hissed, pressing my back into him more fully. “Please, yes.”

  “So eager,” he murmured. “One tiny little touch, and you’ve forgotten your shame of having to surrender to your enemy. I wonder—if I let you stew until your heat fully consumed your mind, would you force yourself upon me?”

  Probably.

  I whimpered. “Don’t. Please, don’t.”

  If I’d been fully with it, I wouldn’t have begged him—wouldn’t have shown him how desperate I was to avoid the agony of being without his touch. The second the words were out of my mouth, I cringed, expecting him to use them against me—to make me suffer for what I’d forced him to agree to do.

  He breathed against my neck again, the shakiest note to it, and then brushed his fingertip up through my folds to ghost his touch over my bared clit.

  I quivered, my breath exploding out of my chest at the blinding sensation of his featherlight caress. It was like fire, like ice—too strong, too much for me to contain. He brushed it again, and again, and I cried out and reached back, blindly digging my nails into his thighs bracketing my hips, needing to feel him under my palms to anchor me through the torrent of impressions.

  How? The question echoed in my mind as I writhed in the alpha’s grasp, my climax fast approaching despite Grim giving my clitoris little more than featherlight attention.

  “How are you doing this?” I gasped. “Oh, fuck, I’m… I’m—!”

  I keened and came, the rising tension in my abdomen snapping as ecstasy danced along my spine.

  Grim held me in place, fingers resting lightly against my pulsing bud of nerves until my orgasm ebbed. I groaned softly, and he released his hold on my hair and moved his hand from my pussy, letting me sag forward to support my weight on my knees. Despite still feeling light with the echoes of pleasure, my body was already heating up again, more insistently this time. Urgent.

  Through hooded lids, I turned my head to look at Grim over my shoulder.

  He was watching me intently, his expression still inscrutable—but his gaze was not. His eyes were dark with a hunger I recognized all too well, and relief flickered in my gut. Relief—and desire. He wanted me. Despite his anger, his plans, his hatred… he wanted me.

  Slowly I bent forward until my cheek pressed against the dirty hide, arched my back, and spread my knees, submitting.

  Grim snarled, the sound running through me like high voltage. I gasped as my body clenched in response.

  “Alpha,” I cooed. “Please.”

  “Alpha,” he growled, the note of mockery not fully swallowed by the rumbling timbre of his own desire. He moved closer, and once again the chill of his body brushed against my skin before he touched me. “Is that the game you wish to play, Annabel? A submissive little omega aching for her alpha? You don’t need to pretend with me. I see your iron. Your fire.”

  “It’s not a game,” I said, grimacing as my abdomen clenched again, forcing slick to trickle down my thighs. “I need you. Please.”

  Silence followed. And then—cold, heavy pressure on the back of my neck as he rose up on his knees behind me, one hand keeping my head to the skins while the other…

  “Yes! Please!” I whimpered as he traced my already sodden lower lips, teasing me open without ever truly touching me where I needed him most. And still, just the lightest brush of his skin against mine had every nerve in my body alight with sensation, as if I was somehow attuned to him. As if the icy magnetism of his presence had sucked me under, and every cell in my body now yearned to meld with his, until I was finally… complete.

  “I need you,” I croaked. “Inside me, Grim. Please.”

  Air rushed from his lungs, his grip on my neck tightening and his featherlight fingers against my pussy flattening. I groaned incoher
ently at the firmer touch and rocked against his palm, icy fire licking up my spine.

  It felt so good. I moaned again, pressing down hard to grind my clit on his fingers, but just as the first whispers of orgasm were within reach, he removed both hands from my aching body.

  I hissed in protest. “No, please—”

  The rustling of his belt buckle made me swallow, my plea dying on a gasp—a gasp that turned sharp when he grabbed my ass and spread me open.

  The first brush of his cockhead was so cold against my molten flesh, it should have been soothing.

  It was anything but.

  Fire raced up my spine, my heat covering me in sweat even as I shivered at his touch. Inside, inside! He belonged in me, belonged with me—

  Grim hissed when I bucked and tried to spear myself on him, his grip on my ass turning painful as he held me in place.

  “Please, please—!” I begged, mindless for anything but the urgency pounding in my blood.

  I needn’t have.

  Grim snarled, the sound rough and oh-so alpha. And then he took me.

  Cool, unrelenting pressure caught in the mouth of my pussy for a brief second, but my slick, eager flesh opened for him, stretching to the point of delicious pain.

  Grim made a choking sound I barely registered over the rushing in my ears and forced the head of his cock fully inside.

  Yes!

  I cried out, nails digging into the hide beneath me as my entire body lit up from within, the sensation rooted in that burning, aching, throbbing part of me wrapped around him. I didn’t get to revel in it, because Grim only paused for a moment. Sliding his hands up to my hips and grasping me hard enough to bruise, he pushed the full length of his cock inside me in one slow, smooth slide, forcing me wide all the way to my cervix.

  “Nngh!” His cry mixed with my own as we both stilled. Everything was heat and ice, and I was so perfectly full, so entirely complete. My body thrummed with energy, a mixture of light and darkness swirling before my eyes, blinding me to the world. There was only him, inside of me. Where he belonged.

  Grim slumped over me, his armor digging into my skin. His breath came in harsh, sharp gasps against my ear, the scent of alpha enveloping my senses.