Betraying Destiny

by Nora Ash

  But I had ruined everything. There would be no eternity of warmth and happiness—not for me and not for her. Only death and cold, dark regret.

  I swallowed hard, trying to encapsulate the agony flaring through my mind and body as the full realization of what I’d done finally set in.

  Annabel made a small noise, and then she pressed her soft, naked body against mine, trying to comfort me with her presence.

  Even now, after everything I had robbed her of. Even now.

  I wrapped my arms around her, loathing myself for accepting comfort that I did not deserve, buried my head in her hair, and clung to the woman I had betrayed so irrevocably.

  “I’m sorry,” I croaked into her tangled hair. It was only when cool, salty liquid touched my lips, that I realized I was crying. I hadn’t cried since I was a child lost and alone with no one to care for my sorrows—not once in a thousand years. But I was now. For the future I had ruined. For the pain I had caused her.

  For the love whose loss I hadn’t fully understood the consequences of when I plunged my knife into Freya’s heart and ripped it from the world for good.

  Annabel didn’t comment on my tears wetting her hair and cheek. She simply held me and rocked me gently, as if I were small and vulnerable. And in her arms, I allowed myself to be.

  The agony took a long while to ease into dull anguish, but by the end, when my tears stopped and I had nothing left but regret and quiet sorrow, I placed one hand against her abdomen and stroked across it with a thumb.

  “Her?” I asked, echoing how Annabel had spoken of our unborn child as she warned me of what would happen if I hurt the tiny life.

  “Freya called her ‘she,’” she replied, unwrapping one arm from my torso so she could place her palm on top of mine. “It’s a girl.”

  A daughter.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my forehead to Annabel’s. My daughter, who would never know the kiss of the sun. Never know color. Or joy.

  “I will give anything to undo what I have done. Anything.” My words were quiet, solemn—and not meant for Annabel. She didn’t need to hear me speak my regret, not when the bond between us was wide open and my dark essence mingled so entirely with her soft light. My plea was to the Fate I had done everything to break, to the weavers of destiny I had denied.

  But it was through Annabel that they answered.

  She let out a sharp gasp, her entire body jolting and going rigid in my arms a half-second before I felt it too. Warm, blinding sensation flared to life behind her ribs where only muted pain had been before, ricocheting through our connection and penetrating deep into my consciousness—her other mate bonds.

  “They’re here!” Annabel gasped, her eyes filling with desperation and hope so wild it took my breath away. “Grim, the others—they’re here!”

  Twenty-Two

  Bjarni

  Hel was as miserable as the stories suggested. Everything was gray and dull and dead—which I suppose shouldn’t have come as a surprise, seeing as how this was the realm of death and all.

  It could have been fire and pitchforks, for all I cared, because the second we stepped through that portal, the place next to my heart that had been so unbearably silent flared to life with a light far greater than any sun, and I knew we had finally found her.

  “Hel’s tits!” Magni spat by my side as he keeled over with his fist pressed to his chest.

  “Maybe don’t blaspheme the Queen of Hel in her own realm,” Saga suggested, his tone dry despite the hand he was clutching to his own ribs. “She’s a prickly bitch—you don’t want to summon her attentions.”

  “Isn’t she your sister?” Modi asked. He too was rubbing at the spot his bond to Annabel had reawakened, but his gaze was on our surroundings, trying to work out the easiest route to follow the unrelenting tug from our mate’s end of the connection. “Surely we should seek her out. She should be able to help us get Annabel back safely.”

  I choked out a laugh at the idea of willingly seeking out Hel. “Not everyone’s blessed with sisters like yours, Thorsson. We don’t exactly get together to play bridge with Jörmungandr and Fenris, and we’re not going to draw Hel’s attention anywhere near Annabel.”

  I shot the dark funnel clouds in the sky a long look. I’d never been to Hel before, but I recognized the soul siphon from stories of old. I shuddered before turning back to the others.

  “She’s likely too busy, ya know, raising her army of undead to raze the mortal world for family visits, anyway,” Saga said, slanting a sardonic look Modi’s way. “Maybe if we’d called ahead.”

  Thor’s youngest son shot us both a dark glare, and I was sure his cheeks would have been tinged pink if Hel hadn’t washed all color from his features. “Right. Fine. Then let’s not waste any time dallying here. I can feel her—if we follow the bond, we should have no trouble finding her.”

  “Or Grim,” Saga murmured, drumming his fingers against his chest.

  I frowned as it dawned on me what he meant. I hadn’t noticed it at first—the flare from finally feeling Annabel again had been all-consuming—but right next to that glowing bond, in the same place I felt Saga, Modi, and Magni, a cool, dark shadow rested. Watchful. Reserved.

  Grim.

  I broke into a wide grin. “Well, whaddaya know? Our baby brother managed to claim our girl all on his own! I wasn’t entirely sure if we’d have to give him pointers to get the deed done.”

  Despite my words, relief—and guilt—filled me. I hadn’t had the capacity to worry too much over my brother’s fate, not with Annabel missing and every cell of my being focused on how to retrieve her. But he’d been here all along, by her side.

  Surprise flickered across both Modi’s and Magni’s faces as they too realized there was another presence within our connection.

  “I heard a rumor that your brother’s kind reproduces asexually. Quite a feat for him to claim a hotblooded woman,” Magni said, and there was just a drop of malice in his voice as he gave his rib a final, irritated rub. He and Modi were clearly less thrilled than Saga and I at this new addition—probably about as much as Saga had been when he felt Modi claim our girl. They’d get over it fast enough.

  “Ha,” Saga said, his lips quirking up in a grin to match mine. “He wishes. You should have seen him when Annabel came to our farm and her scent was everywhere.”

  I chuckled at the memory of Grim’s torment as he’d tried to control his body’s response to the omega’s budding heat—complete denial. “I’m sure their courting has been interesting. Let’s get moving. Once we are all together again, we’ll make him tell us all about it.”

  “He’ll be thrilled to share, no doubt,” Saga agreed, his devious smirk faltering as he stared in the direction we all felt Annabel’s presence. As much fun as tormenting our younger brother with his new mating experience would be, it drowned in the wave of longing and desperation at being so close to her. There would be time for that and other recounts of what had happened while we’d been apart, but all that mattered for now was reuniting with our mate.

  We ran through the barren landscape where we’d arrived and into the dense woodland. That bright glow pulled harder at us with every step, urging us forward, to hurry. We obeyed.

  We had been running for maybe half a day and were jogging across a gray meadow when Modi rasped, “She’s close.”

  He hadn’t needed to voice it, because we all felt it—that overwhelming sense of her presence, as if everything was on the cusp of falling into place. Of finally being right again.

  And then there she was, bursting through the trees ahead of us like a wild spirit.

  She gave a shriek and sprinted at us, and my heart thumped so hard it sounded like a drum in my ears as the four of us raced to close the gap.

  Magni reached her a fraction of an inch before the rest of us. He yanked her into his embrace, but we crowded them, every one of us reaching for her. Our mate. She was here.

  “Annabel,” Saga groaned as he pressed desperat
e kisses to her shoulders and neck. “Gods, sweetling.”

  “We feared… We feared you were lost forever,” Modi choked as she stroked a hand through his hair and cupped his cheek.

  And there it was, that uncurling sense of relief as I muscled my way through my brothers’ wide shoulders to clasp onto my small, soft center of existence. I would never have given up on searching for her—never—but we had all feared the worst.

  “I’ve missed you every second of every day,” I said as I tugged her against me, forcing the others closer as they refused to release their holds on her. I buried my nose in her messy hair and inhaled deeply, but her beautiful scent didn’t fill my nostrils like it should have. Frowning, I pulled back to look at her.

  Her usually flushed skin was grayed like the rest of ours, and I missed the rich chocolate of her eyes even as my soul slid into place when I looked into them. She smiled at me, making them crinkle at the corners.

  “I missed you too. So much. Every one of you—”

  I didn’t let her finish the sentence, but she didn’t seem to mind my lips covering hers—she kissed me back until my heart sang.

  Modi pulled her mouth from mine to claim her for himself, and I gave an irritated growl and dug my fingers into the swell of her hips to ensure he didn’t attempt to pull her body from me as well. We were a violent ocean of need and yearning, and Annabel the rocky island caught in our maelstrom. Not that she seemed to mind. She cooed and kissed and touched us all, sobbing, “You came,” in between our frantic claimings of her mouth.

  “Of course we came,” Magni whispered as he rubbed his bearded cheek over her skull. “We’ll always come for you, mate. Always.”

  I rumbled my agreement, but a flutter of sensation finally managed to pull my attention from the fogged bliss of reuniting with my beloved. It was cool and dark—just a muted whisper from the same place my pair bond was attached. It came through it—from her. I looked up with a frown and saw Grim hovering a few feet away.

  I broke into a wide grin at the sight of him—and then at the head tucked under his arm. “You found Mimir! Brother, you did it!”

  The others looked up at my call and toward our youngest brother.

  “Grim!” Saga said with a relieved smile. “Congratulations are in order, I believe. And… gratitude. You followed our mate and protected her when we could not.”

  Grim didn’t return our greetings. His face was as carved from stone as he stared at us. When I looked closer, I noticed his fists were clenched tight. I frowned and prodded at the connection I shared with him through Annabel, but got no response.

  “Grim,” Annabel said, her voice as soft as if she were coaxing a wild animal. She freed one arm and reached out toward him. “Come.”

  He hesitated, even if I saw the tremble in his muscles to obey his mate’s request for his nearness.

  “Go to them,” the prophet under his arm murmured. “It is the only way to correct your course, grim one.”

  Grim shot Mimir a glare, then dropped him on the ground none too gently and stalked to us to clasp Annabel’s outstretched hand.

  A shiver went through all of us—a current of awareness and a sense of… something akin to completion I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I didn’t need to. I grinned again and released Annabel with one hand to clap Grim on the shoulder.

  “It’s good to see you too, brother,” I said.

  He only gave me a dark look, and despite the stony planes of his pale face, the glare in his mismatched eyes raised the small hairs on my body. He was… angry.

  I prodded at that connection between us again and found it still blocked. Where I felt the three other men I shared Annabel with open and flowing through her like a warm current, the place where Grim was supposed to meet us was nothing but that slight sensation of chilly darkness.

  “What’s the matter with you? Did we drop in at an inopportune time?” I asked, eyebrows raised at my brother’s dour face.

  “Leave him be, Bjarni,” Annabel murmured, reaching up to give my beard a chiding tug before she refocused on Grim. “It’s okay, baby. Stay here with me. I need you. I love you. And so do they.”

  Baby? I opened my mouth to mock my mate’s chosen pet name for my surly brother, but—somewhat to my surprise—Modi gave me a shake of his head, his eyes blazing a warning to stay quiet.

  I frowned deeper and took in the scene. Magni and Saga were staring intently at Grim, both their eyebrows bunched. Only Annabel still smiled, and it was softer than it’d been just moments ago. Gentler. She didn’t take her eyes off Grim as she murmured soothing words of love and devotion.

  And Grim… I sucked in a deep breath at the tortured look in his eyes mixed with volatile rage, and a love so intense it echoed deep in my own devotion to Annabel.

  It took me several more moments than it seemingly had my brothers, but it finally dawned on me when Grim took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes, reluctantly allowing Annabel to draw him into our circle of twined limbs and bodies.

  He was fighting tooth and nail to keep genuine rage in check. Rage that we—his brothers—were touching the woman he considered his.

  Grim was not happy to see us. And, I suspected as I regarded his stiff shoulders warily, was very much wanting to fight each and every one of us, rather than relax in our midst.

  I gave a snort, half of amusement, half of disbelief. Grim, of all people, was the one to go primitive idiot over this arrangement? I’d felt that kernel of demented jealousy too—we all had in the beginning—but even Saga and Magni hadn’t looked quite as murderous as my darkhaired brother currently did, even with his eyes closed and his face pressed to Annabel’s cheek.

  Grim, who had tried everything to persuade Saga and me not to send for her in the first place, and who’d been a grouchy prick around her from day one, now pressed himself to her as if she were his only reason for living. Which she was. She was that for all of us.

  I shifted and managed to wrap my arm not clutching at Annabel around Grim’s shoulders, pulling him in tight against both mine and Modi by my sides, without tugging him away from Annabel.

  Mismatched eyes flew open, and a warning snarl rumbled out of his throat.

  “Bjarni, don’t,” Annabel warned. I only gave her a reassuring squeeze in response.

  “It gets easier. I promise,” I said to my brother, offering nothing but a wry smile in the face of the threat of violence he snarled my way. And then I purred.

  “Oh,” Annabel breathed, and I turned my head just in time to see her eyelids flutter closed. Our bond hummed blissfully in my chest, and I nuzzled at her hair as she relaxed between us.

  Another rumbling purr broke from my side as Modi followed my example. Annabel made a small mewling sound of pleasure, and again when Saga and Magni joined us.

  Only Grim remained quiet as we surrounded our mate with the reassuring comfort of our purring embrace. He was a silent, cold presence of darkness in our midst, his anger nearly palpable even if we still couldn’t feel him through her bond. But he didn’t lash out with either of those nasty daggers he carried, nor his powerful magic. Judging from his enraged expression and the tremor of his tight muscles, that was as much as we could hope for.

  I squeezed him tighter to me and purred all the louder, eternally grateful that he was here with us anyway. Our fifth brother.

  Twenty-Three

  Grim

  I wanted to kill them. Every cell in my body throbbed with red-hot fire as the four alphas pawed at my mate, kissed her and murmured possessive words of devotion. Only Annabel’s unwavering hold on my hand kept me grounded enough to remember my vow: I would give anything to undo what I had done—the future I had doomed our daughter to.

  Even allowing these men to touch her.

  The purring… helped. A little. As much as I fantasized about ripping Magni’s fingers off one by one as he curved them around one of Annabel’s breasts, it was as smidge easier to resist with the unwavering rumble vibrating through my body, even if
I wasn’t its creator. I wasn’t even sure if I could purr. I’d never had the inclination, not even with Annabel in my arms, but my instincts responded to its promise of peace and comfort.

  My brain… not so much.

  Annabel, on the other hand, was a blissed-out puddle. She gave me a somewhat dazed smile that pulled on that soft, fragile thing she’d planted in my chest when we mated. See? her eyes seemed to say. You can do this.

  I still hadn’t unclenched my fists, and I doubted I would for a very long time. But yes, I… I could do this. For her. If only because it was so obvious that she was truly happy now—that even the moments of joy she had shared with me had been incomplete without them.

  I wanted her happy. I could do this. Somehow.

  It took well over an hour before the purring softened and then, one by one, quieted.

  “We should get back,” Saga said, even as he continued to stare at Annabel with a soft, goofy smile that made my fists itch to make contact with his face. “We can continue this when we are safe.”

  The way he said this, and that gleam in his eyes as he said it, made a warning snarl rumble again from my chest.

  My brother only gave a me a patient look before he gazed across the meadow.

  “Magga and Arni didn’t say what you needed from us to get home, sweetling. Do you know the way? Is it close?”

  “Oh.” Annabel grimaced, and from the flustered look on her face, I suspected she was blushing. “It’s… um… We all need to… Freya said I need to, uh, join with all of you. To be strong enough.”

  Magni broke into a wide grin. “I adore that woman and her take on magic.” Then his smile faded. “It is true, then? The Goddess of Love has been taken to Hel? Trud suggested as much, but…”

  “We will bring her back with us,” Modi said, steel in his voice. “We are not leaving one of our own in this place. And she may be able to help us capture Loki.”