Betraying Destiny

by Nora Ash

  She went lax underneath me, her molten flesh turning pliant and soft. My name still spilled from her lips, pleading now, her palms sliding to my abs in a weak attempt at slowing my assault. It only drove me harder, and soon her protests were replaced by soft moans, her sheath tightening around me once more. She came on my knot, hissing and spitting, my name a curse as she fought and surrendered.

  When she asked me for thirds some twenty minutes later, I rolled her over to her stomach and allowed the instincts I’d hated for so long to swallow me whole.

  Thirteen

  Annabel

  My nipples were as raw as my clit when I finally awoke without the haze of heat fogging my mind some days later.

  Behind me, cool flesh pressed against my back, rising and falling with the rhythm of Grim’s steady breaths. He’d slung an arm over my midriff, cocooning me with his chilly body, and I hummed a small sound of appreciation.

  As far as heats went, having my mate regulate the awful, feverish temperature hike had been a godsend.

  Mate.

  I prodded gently at the new bond in my chest—the only one that wasn’t a dark, festering wound. Grim murmured in response, tightening his grip on me, and I eased off our connection with a smile.

  I’d not been prepared for how… good it’d feel.

  My other four mating bonds had come with pain and angst. I’d expected Grim, of all people, to give me a bond barbed with broken glass and darkness. I’d expected pain and misery, not… this.

  I pressed a hand to my ribs and closed my eyes, focusing on the soft glow of it. Peaceful.

  He’d fought it at first, but his surrender had been swift and complete. It still took my breath away to recall those moments when his magic had been within me and I’d felt whole in a way I hadn’t expected to.

  Soulmates, he’d called us. Was that why it felt like this? So… smooth. As if we were already carved from the same piece, so slotting together was friction-free.

  Well. In spirit, at least.

  I grimaced at the throbbing down below. Reluctant as he may have been, Grim had given in to his primal side as fully as any of my other mates. It still baffled me to know that the cold, withdrawn man, the dark god of mist and shadow, possessed a passion so fiery.

  And that he had a proclivity for breasts.

  “You’ve been awake for several minutes and no one’s copulating. Am I to take it your brain is back in charge?”

  Mimir’s dry voice made me jolt—and wince, thanks to my sore abdominal muscles—and whip around. The prophet’s head sat where I’d left him some time ago, on a skin on the floor. Staring right at me and Grim.

  “You watched?” I hissed, heat that had nothing to do with desire and everything to do with mortification rising all the way from my toes to my cheeks.

  He arched both bushy eyebrows. “Of course.”

  “What happened to having no such inclinations?” I snapped. I’d forgotten all about him. I’d forgotten all about everything, save Grim, but I really, really wished I’d at least had the wherewithal to turn Mimir’s head in the opposite direction before surrendering to my heat.

  “Ah. I find no personal pleasure in it, but I do admit the act is… fascinating to watch. Besides, it wasn’t like there were a lot of other entertainment options these past three days.”

  “I told you you should have left him outside in the mud,” Grim rumbled sleepily behind me. The cool arm around my midriff withdrew, followed by the comfortable pressure against my back as he sat up.

  A jolt of… not anxiety, but nervous energy perhaps, flickered through my gut. He was awake. And no longer deep in rut.

  Slowly I turned toward him, ignoring the pervert prophet.

  “Hi,” I said softly. I took in his sleepy expression, so unexpected on his ice-carved features. He still looked every inch the cold, dark god, but somehow… more human now. As if he was finally allowing me to see past the barriers.

  Grim only tilted his head in response, his eyes sweeping over me, taking in my swollen nipples and lips before dipping to the many bruises on my hips and ribs where he’d gripped me so, so tight.

  “My heat’s over,” I said, though I didn’t need to. The times I’d woken before him during my few fitful spurts of sleep these past days, I’d taken him inside of me before he was even awake.

  “Are you all right?” he rumbled, reaching one hand out to trace a particularly dark set of bruises along my ribs.

  The brush of his skin against mine made me shiver—not so much with desire now, but pure awareness. His nearness sparked something in me, made me lean toward his touch as if pulled by a magnetic force.

  “Yeah. A bit sore. Nothing unusual.” I bit my lip and looked up at him through my lashes, an odd sense of shyness setting in. The intimacy we’d shared had been so intense, but now, without the insanity of my heat, it felt… intimidating.

  I forced myself to recall the sensation of it, of melding into one with him, and steeled myself. It wasn’t just about us. I’d made the bargain with him because I needed this connection. Shying away from it now that I had it was folly.

  Before I could change my mind, I leaned forward and planted my lips against Grim’s.

  The alpha started at my sudden assault, but when he raised his hand, it wasn’t to push me away. He wove his strong fingers into my messy hair, cupping the back of my head as he parted his lips and kissed me back.

  His cool breath mingled with mine, shivers shooting down my spine as our bond hummed. Grim rumbled an appreciative note and snaked his other hand around my back to pull me in closer.

  So easy. This was… so easy. Like two streams of liquid metal pouring into the same mold, forming into one.

  I don’t know if I pulled or he pushed, but when Grim’s tongue flicked over mine, I was on my back on the sleeping skin, my mate settling his hips between my spread thighs. Warmth fluttered in my core, the absence of my heat doing nothing to quell my desire for him. Judging from the cool, hard column of flesh pressing against my navel, it did nothing to quell his either.

  “Much as I hate to interrupt two lovebirds, I do feel it prudent to remind you that we have places to be—and an ever-narrowing window of time to get there,” Mimir said, shattering the cocoon of quiet wonder wrapped around me and my mate.

  I froze, my fingers tightening on Grim’s black locks enough to make him grimace. I’d forgotten we weren’t alone. Again.

  Grim lifted his head and gave the prophet a glare. “I find the concept of your use as a troll’s ball increasingly fascinating.”

  “Mimir’s right,” I said, releasing my grip on his hair to pat at his shoulders. “We’ve already spent so much time. We don’t know when it’ll be too late to stop Ragnarök, nor how long it’ll take to get back.”

  Grim shifted his gaze to mine. A flicker of darkness passed over his mismatched eyes, but it was gone before I could fully register it. “You should rest for a few days. I sense your… fatigue.”

  I shot him a wry smile. “I don’t think being worn out from a sex marathon is enough reason to leave the end of the world to do its thing. I do need a quick rinse, though. Do you think we can find a safe stream? I’m… sticky.”

  His eyes darted to the apex of my thighs where proof of our coupling clung to my skin. “I find my essence on you… appealing.”

  I snorted at his somewhat bemused tone. He seemed to not be entirely sure why he found his spent seed caked on my skin appealing.

  “That’s great, but I am not walking around like a bukkake fantasy to placate your instincts. C’mon, let’s find somewhere troll-free to get washed up before we get moving.”

  Grim watched over me as I bathed in a shallow creek by the cave we’d spent the past few days in. I felt his eyes on my skin as a physical caress. It warmed my body like rays of sun, and I hummed with pleasure. Who knew? Who could have ever known that mating Grim would bring me such… pure joy?

  I shot a grateful thought down the bond between us, but instead of a warm res
ponse, I was met with dark nothingness.

  Frowning, I pulled my consciousness back. Okay, so it was probably too much to expect that the cool, complex man who’d only ever loved his brothers would open up completely so soon. My other bonds had taken some time to fall into sync too.

  Sighing, I finished up in the creek and waded to shore, shooting my silent, brooding mate a gentle smile as I got dressed. He had scars. Bad enough he’d killed me rather than willingly surrender to our shared fate. But he was mine now, and that was all I needed. I could be patient with him.

  Once I was dressed, I turned to Mimir—who’d also had a quick dip in the creek to get rid of the leftover mud from his tumble a few days ago. I’d washed him before I bathed myself, mostly because it’d seemed the right thing to do for a prophet. “Where are we going?”

  “Farther inland,” he said. “If we make good pace, we should be there in a day or two.”

  “How long until we’re out of troll territory?” I asked, directed at Grim this time.

  He shrugged. “I am not familiar with the area, but if the landscape turns less rocky, we should at least be free of mountain trolls. Not that there aren’t plenty of other creatures to be wary of.”

  The surly note to his voice made my cheeks heat a bit. “I’m sorry about the Nightmare.”

  Mimir scoffed. “How quickly you forget why we had to call on her services. Your mate did everything in his power to keep you from escaping. We did what we had to.”

  “Yeah, well, I can still be sorry.” I sighed and looked to Grim. He didn’t meet my gaze, his attention focused up the path. “We have a tough journey ahead, but we will get there. Together.”

  Neither of them responded.

  I tried to reach out through my new bond a few times while we hiked through the rocky hills and down into the deeper woodlands, but Grim kept the connection shut.

  I hadn’t even realized that was an option—my bonds to my four other mates had been a constant flow, when I was still alive. Painful and confusing a lot of the time, but always open.

  I didn’t ask him why he shut me out—he would open up to me again when he was ready—but his ability to control our bond made me think of Loki’s comments about his youngest son. How he was the one with the greatest gift of magic.

  When we made camp underneath a weeping willow late that night and I’d perched Mimir on a log by the fire, I walked over to where Grim was busying himself with sharpening his blades and sat down by his side, close enough that my knee bumped into his.

  He looked up at me, the slide of his whetstone pausing as he took me in with unreadable blankness.

  “Hey,” I said.

  He didn’t respond, but kept his attention on me.

  “I was wondering… all this magic business. Modi taught me a few things, but I’m still not super-skilled. Do you think maybe you could teach me? It’d probably be helpful if I had a bit more control. And knowledge.”

  Shadow danced in Grim’s eyes as he held my gaze for a long second. Then he returned his focus to his blades, resuming the slick slide of stone over metal. “It takes years upon years of study and practice to master the art of magic. Once this is all over… If we are still here, I will teach you then.”

  I frowned. “I don’t expect to master it, but it’s not going to do much good to wait until after we’ve stopped Ragnarök. I need all the skill I can scrape together, and as quickly as possible. I know I have the raw power, but that’s only going to go so far. You saw how helpless I was against that first troll.”

  When the word helpless left my lips, Grim’s arm paused its sliding motion again, his muscles trembling ever so slightly. Something like an echo resonated in our bond, but was gone just as quickly.

  “Just the basics,” I pressed. “Maybe something to help me not burn out so fast. Though… I’m not opposed to your help in replenishing my energy either.”

  Grim finally looked back at me, eyebrows raised, and I gave him a grin.

  “Only if you want to, of course.”

  His lips flattened disapprovingly, but I saw the flash of heat in his eyes before he sighed and returned to his work. “Fine.”

  “Fine, you’ll teach me, or fine, you’ll… replenish me?”

  “I will teach you. The basics,” he emphasized. “First lesson: You open yourself too wide when your use your magic. It comes out too unfocused, and you have to use more of it to get enough power behind you. Envision a narrow keyhole. Push your magic through it—laser-focus it.”

  “Now?” I asked.

  “Unless you have something better to do.”

  I glared, but he was still looking at his daggers. It seemed our mating hadn’t killed off the part of his personality that caused him to be a prick when he wanted to be.

  “Okay. Fine.” I got up and turned my back to the campfire, surveying our surroundings for an impromptu target dummy.

  “The rocks by the brambles,” Grim said. “Drill a hole through the biggest one. All the way through and no wider than an acorn.”

  It was a lot more difficult than it sounded. He was right—up until now, I’d pretty much slung my magic at whatever target, hoping the sheer mass of it would do the job. Trying to focus the thrumming power and channel it into a keyhole-sized beam was… difficult.

  The boulder had several scorch marks and large chunks missing before I collapsed by the fire two hours later, as exhausted as if I’d run a marathon. But it also had a jagged hole only slightly larger than an acorn running at least halfway through.

  Grim, who’d otherwise ignored me, got up and went over to inspect my work.

  “You need to be consistent. You let your magic overwhelm you several times—the unevenness shows every time you lost control,” he said.

  “But I did last a lot longer than I’d normally have,” I countered.

  “And yet you didn’t manage to complete the task. There’s still nearly a foot of rock left to drill through. It shouldn’t have taken you more than a few minutes.”

  I blew a raspberry. “You really need to work on your feedback skills. Have you ever heard of positive reinforcement? I’m entirely beat and very proud of myself, and here you are, pooping all over my efforts. Not cool.”

  Grim moved across the soft grass, coming to a stop by my side. He looked down at me, collapsed on my back underneath the willow tree, eyebrows furrowing. “You spent most of your energy on this?”

  “Well… yeah. Mostly. I still have a bit left, but—”

  His frown deepened, nostrils pulling up a quarter of an inch. “And what are you planning to do if we are attacked again? Throw rocks? Second lesson, though it really shouldn’t need to be said: Never leave yourself depleted unless you absolutely have to.”

  “You set the task,” I reminded him. I might have gained a softer touch when it came to my brusque new mate, but it was still pretty insulting to be talked to as if I were a complete idiot.

  “Clearly I overestimated your abilities. It won’t happen again,” he snapped.

  “You’re such a prick.” Annoyed as I was, there wasn’t any true venom in my words, mostly because I was too tired to argue with him.

  Grim gave me a dark look, then began unfastening the straps holding his armor in place.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, arching an eyebrow when he threw his chest piece and tunic to the ground next to me, revealing a whole lot of icy skin and rippling abs.

  “You need your powers replenished,” he said flatly.

  “Oh.” Despite the rush of nerves awakening in my abdomen at the implication of that statement, I cracked a grin at him. “Well, I’m glad to see you’re working on your positive reinforcement skills after all.”

  Grim only arched an eyebrow at me before he began working on his belt.

  “Can you turn her over so I get the head end this time?” Mimir’s dry voice cracked through our little camp, jolting my gaze from what Grim’s hands were doing back to the prophet. “I think I’ve had quite my fill of your backsi
de, Lokisson.”

  “Oh. My God.” If the soil underneath me could have opened up and swallowed me whole, I would have felt nothing but gratitude. I really, really needed to stop forgetting that we weren’t alone every time my ovaries took over.

  Grim, pants open and halfway down his hips, turned around and stalked to the other side of the fire, where he grabbed Mimir by the skull and turned him around to face away from the camp.

  “Now, now, I didn’t say I didn’t want to watch. Just that there is only so much of a man’s thrusting buttocks I can take,” Mimir protested.

  Grim didn’t respond. He returned to me and continued to push off his boots and shove his trousers down his thighs, baring his body entirely, save the linen breeches covering his privates.

  “Uh, yeah, no,” I said, reaching up a hand to stop him when he hooked his thumbs in his breeches. “We are not… doing that with an audience. Again.”

  “Then how do you propose to regain your strength?” Grim asked, as nonplussed as if we were discussing the weather.

  “I…” I grimaced and shot a look at the back of Mimir’s head. “Maybe I’ll recover with some sleep.”

  Grim only snorted and shoved his underwear down, exposing that mouthwatering cock of his already half-erect. It grew rapidly before my eyes, momentarily distracting my protests.

  “You didn’t seem to mind an audience that last night in Valhalla,” he said, brushing a hand up the length of my thigh before reaching for the waist of my leather pants.

  Heat gathered in my cheeks. “I wasn’t given much of a choice,” I muttered, though truthfully, it wasn’t like I’d been particularly bothered. I’d just been so relieved to be back with my mates.

  “Then perhaps consider that you don’t have much of one now either,” he murmured, enough heat lacing through his words to ease the sting of the threat in them.

  I lifted my brows. “Oh? Feeling up for a bit of forced ravishment, are we?”

  It was meant as a playful taunt, but Grim’s hands stilled on my belt, his eyes darting to mine. Shadows flickered in them when he said, so quietly it could have been a whisper, “Without your powers, you are vulnerable. If you will not yield, I… will still do what I must.”