Protector (Night War Saga Book 1)

by Leia Stone

  “Well we can’t just wait out the weather. Allie will die!”

  Allie . . . what a friendly name. It sounded familiar. Oh, God, was someone I knew about to die? Another swirl of red-black coursed through my brain, bringing with it a fresh wave of pain. Argh! This was unbearable. How could I make it stop? Please, just make it stop!

  “Allie’s. Not. Going. To. Die.”

  The last voice growled fiercely, as if its owner was willing his words to come true. And I believed him. Allie, whoever she was, would not be dying today. This angry male most definitely would not allow it. His commanding tone made it clear he was not to be messed with—not by whoever he was talking to, or by whoever was in charge of letting people live or die. Dominance absolutely oozed from his energy.

  “Can you call your brothers, Mack? We could use the Swords of Exile about now.”

  Swords of who now? Whatever messed up dream I was having took a fanciful turn as the image of glowing white blades filled what little head space wasn’t being occupied by sheer, agonizing pain. I clung to the picture, in part to distract myself from whatever was stabbing my head, and in part to take on some of the power that particular vision made me feel. Power. Own your power. The words came through me, but they weren’t mine. Was the pain making me insane?

  “Even if my brothers were able to port into Jotunheim, there’s no way of knowing whether the Exile Shield would be strong enough to allow the Bifrost to function. We could still be ripped apart on exit.”

  That did not sound good. Not for poor Allie, or for any of the angry, protective males who were occupying this space. Protectors. That word flowed through me too. I sensed that these males were here to protect someone . . . to protect me?

  Well, they certainly weren’t doing a bang up job. My body was in an inexplicable amount of pain, and I was pretty sure I was losing my mind.

  “Nobody’s getting ripped apart. Heimdall won’t send it down if he doesn’t think we can make it back. We’re getting Allie up to Asgard, and we’re getting her healed.”

  It was the dominant energy again. Only this time, when he spoke, I picked up on another emotion within his field. Layered thick among the rage and frustration was an intense, all-consuming love. For Allie. This angry, dominant male was absolutely overflowing with love for Allie. It was a beautiful juxtaposition, and I hoped the feeling was mutual.

  A fresh wave of pain wracked my body, this time pulsing between my head and my chest. The stabbing continued up top, but in my torso, I sensed a dense spiral, a whirlpool of darkness that sucked all light from my heart. God that hurts! A dense weight pressed against my chest, or maybe it pulled from behind my back. Either way, something vital, something life affirming, was being taken from me.

  And the voices around me continued to argue about a rainbow.

  Minutes passed, or maybe hours, but finally the pain that pulsed between my chest and my head ebbed. The voices came back into focus, only this time there were more of them. I tried to open my eyes, but everything around me was hazy. One face moved in and out of focus—a beautiful man with long blond hair.

  “Allie.” He spoke the name as if in prayer. “You’re awake!” The man pressed his lips to my forehead, relief and love pouring from his energy to fill my empty heart with a speck of light. “Allie’s awake!” The man called over his shoulder, before turning back to breathe into my neck. “Thank gods you’re okay.”

  Hold on. I was Allie? This guy loved me? And I was about to die? A knowing crashed over me as my memories broke loose from the darkness’ hold. There had been a blackness taking my memories, taking my essence, but I wouldn’t let it continue. I was Allie. I am Allie. I repeated it like a mantra, hoping to never forget. With every chant of my name, I felt a tiny bit stronger.

  “Ugh,” I moaned. A fresh wave of pain overtook me, and I squeezed my eyes shut. No, Allie! Fight it! You are not dying! You want to live!

  “Brothers, form the Exile Shield.” A peaceful voice gave the order, and the space a few yards away filled with a brilliant, white energy. Hope radiated in a ring, and the darkness inside me skittered against my chest like it was anxious. Did the hope ring frighten whatever was making me feel so awful? If so, how did I get myself closer to that ring?

  As if on cue, strong arms eased themselves beneath me. “Hold on, Allie,” the dominant voice commanded. “We’re going to get you home.”

  Home. Where was home? Images flickered across my mind, but none of them felt quite right. The tiny house in the meadow was too distant, the two-bedroom dorm in the city was too temporary. Pictures raced, and I let them move across my consciousness until one lit up in a rosy pink glow. There it is. Home. A girl with long blonde hair and a glowing necklace sat comfortably on a loveseat beside the blond guy who’d just leaned over me. They stared out the window, watching the snow fall, their heads lightly touching. There was an ease and familiarity between them. It was lovely, really.

  “Argh!” I cried out as the arms pulled me into something warm and firm. I forced my eyes open to see what was happening. The angular lines of the man’s beautiful face blurred as my body was jostled. Snow-covered trees flew quickly past, and before I could register that we’d moved, I found myself pressed against this man’s chest, surrounded by a circle of light so bright that the blackness in my heart writhed back and forth as if in pain. My headache immediately returned and knocked itself up to a full-blown migraine. Holy hell, I was either going to pass out or puke all over this poor guy. We’d see how much he liked me then.

  “It’s as secure as we’re going to get it.” The peaceful voice had a heavy edge. “It’s now or never. This storm’s not letting up any time soon.”

  “Heimdall! Send the Bifrost! Now!” the dominant voice ordered. Then it shifted. “Hold on to me, Allie.” My protector—yes, that word resonated, protector. This man was absolutely here to protect me from whatever was causing this unbelievable pain—spoke softly into my ear. “This might hurt.”

  My body tensed. I wasn’t sure if I could handle any more pain. But the man wasn’t asking permission, and a fresh pulse of torture made its way through my centers as a wave of light overtook me. I screamed, clawing the man’s chest as a fierce wind sucked us upward and shot us across the sky into a void that matched the energy of my heart.

  The brilliant colors of the rainbow bridge swirled around me, pulling at the blackness inside until it felt like I was going to rip in half. Consciousness slipped away, and I once again allowed the darkness to take over. As I released my struggle, I buried my face in my protector’s chest and breathed in the wintry smell of his jacket. This man may have cared for me, but I wasn’t strong enough to be his match. Maybe I could have been in another lifetime, but I was too weak now.

  The darkness had won.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I FADED IN AND out of consciousness as bright lights and crystal wands waved over my face. A petite redhead blurred into view, and in my state of slightly diminished discomfort, my identity slowly came back to me. I was Allie, tasked with rebuilding and wielding the immortal weapon Gud Morder and shadowed at all times by four immortal protectors. Through the fog of pain, I recognized the panicked voice of my new friend.

  “Her light is so dim,” Greta murmured.

  A warm hand rested in mine, and I knew without looking over that it was Tore. Whether he knew it or not, his hand was giving me the strength to hold on. The discordant black energy slithered around inside of me. It wanted to take hold, wanted to rob me of my memories and my happiness, wanted to take who I was. But as long as Tore held my hand, the darkness would lose. It has to lose.

  I left consciousness again, floating in the void, the void that was so close to death. I heard the voices of the warriors in Valhalla chanting my name. They called me to come be with them. Not yet.

  Then I was back. My eyelids flew open, and I stared into the eye of a very intense man. His silken, white hair fell to his shoulders, and across one eye, he wore a patch. The staff in his hand sh
immered in the late afternoon light, and he exuded ancient, raw power. This was Odin, the Alfödr. He didn’t need to introduce himself; his energy said it all.

  “Were she not the daughter of Eir, she would surely have perished.” The Alfödr’s strong voice rang across the room. The vibration of his tone shifted the resonance of my body, leaving me lighter. The Alfödr’s presence scared the darkness away, the way I’d always imagined Gran had chased the monsters from my closet. He spoke again, and the darkness within me trembled. “She may still not survive, but I hope, for all of our sakes, that she finds the strength to pull through.” Then he placed a hand on my head, and the darkness within my skull quivered. It crept down my centers, edging away from the Alfödr’s touch. It shrank as it moved, diminishing in strength, and I felt for a moment that I might be able to speak, to sit up, to fight. But all too soon, the Alfödr stepped away, and the darkness once again fought to rob me of what was mine. It had begun to claim my soul.

  The next time I awoke, I felt lighter, more aware, more . . . more me. Greta and two other healers stood over me, pulling a steady stream of black wisps from my body. Through it all, Tore kept his hand tucked in mine. And with that knowledge, a tiny spark of hope ignited in my chest and spread outward until it enveloped my entire body.

  I am going to make it. I will heal. At that thought, a blinding, blue light erupted from my heart center, flying outward and taking the darkness with it. And I sank into the deep, restful sleep my body needed.

  ****

  I finally came back to my body, awakening to the cheerful sound of a songbird trilling just beyond my reach. My mind danced along the edge of consciousness, unwilling to wake until I’d checked my energy centers. The last time I’d been fully in my body, my fourth center played host to a soul vacuum, and my sixth center entertained a troop of tap dancing daggers. If I was still keeping that kind of company, I was going back under.

  A quick scan of my centers confirmed that I once again owned my space, so I walked through whatever channels led me to full consciousness and took a deep breath. My ribcage expanded with the effort, and though my muscles groaned in protest, the aches felt like standard-issue pain—not the dark-energy-induced variety. I was healing, albeit slowly, from the nightmare that had been Jotunheim. And from what I could tell, my pain was manageable.

  Thank God.

  Light nudged against my eyelids, and I allowed them to flutter open so I could study my surroundings. My body was nestled beneath a thick, white duvet. A sea of wildflowers stood in vases at the foot of my bed. A light snow dusted the branches of the tree standing outside my window. And an impossibly beautiful guy slept in a chair against the wall, his outstretched hand still tucked in mine. Tore! Holy mother, the massive guy currently stuffed into the too small recliner at my bedside was Tore. My protector, my tormentor, my crush. The guy who’d literally been to a frost-giant-laden hell and back with me. His long hair was covered with a black beanie, and his face had the stubble of a man who hadn’t shaved in days. It was clear he’d never left my side.

  My eyes fell on the silver arm piece lying on the nightstand, and the events from the past few days flashed through my mind. My imagination recalled the nightmare we’d lived through in agonizing detail. I was a demigod. My hands could summon a glowing, blue ball that gave life. The guys and I had recovered two pieces of a god-killing sword, and my body had recently played host to a blob of dark magic that tried to suck the essence from my very being.

  All in a day’s work.

  I slipped my fingers out of Tore’s strong grasp and pushed the duvet off my legs. Someone had left a pair of fuzzy slippers by my bed, and while it wasn’t the sexiest look, I was willing to run with comfort for the time being. The demigod at my bedside had seen me at my worst, and if my memory served me, I’d picked up some lovey-dovey vibes from him while I was semi-conscious. Assuming that particular recall hadn’t been a figment of my imagination, a few hours of fuzzy slippers weren’t going to wreck whatever it was we had going here.

  I hoped.

  I padded to the en suite bathroom, where someone had thoughtfully placed a bevy of toiletries. With each movement, I was grateful that I no longer felt the searing pain that had held me captive for so long. I put a generous blob of toothpaste on a brush and scrubbed until my teeth felt minty clean. Then I spent a solid two minutes swishing mouthwash between my cheeks. The events of the past few days had left a foul taste in my mouth, and I wanted to eradicate all traces of my time in that frosty world.

  Plus, I didn’t want to have morning breath when the hot guy at my bedside woke up.

  The rustling of fabric pulled my focus to the other room, where Tore now stood in front of the chair. As I slowly shuffled out of the bathroom, his chest rose and fell with measured breaths. His eyes scanned up and down my body as if he couldn’t believe I was alive, walking and breathing.

  “Allie.” My name passed over his lips like a prayer.

  My heart thudded as I whispered, “Tore.”

  He strode quickly through the open space, eating up the distance between us before crashing into me. His hands came up around the sides of my face, and a low growl rumbled from his throat as he hungrily crushed his mouth against mine in a commanding, possessive, hot first kiss. A sigh escaped my lips as I parted them to let his tongue slide into my mouth. He tasted absolutely divine. Spearmint and winter and Tore. The electricity that I’d first felt when we met coursed through me, making my body hum. My hands snaked inside his t-shirt, moving up his back to feel the corded muscles beneath his skin. The sensation sent a fresh pulse of heat just south of my navel, making my knees go weak. Tore stepped closer then, pressing me up against the cold window pane to stabilize me. His chiseled pecs pressed against my chest, and my sigh deepened into a moan. Hell yes. I was kissing Tore. Finally kissing Tore. I needed to almost die more often. Obviously.

  When he finally pulled back, he ran his nose along my neck, inhaling deeply. Oh, yum. “Allie.” He exhaled. “I was so afraid I was going to lose you.”

  “Can’t lose me, Protector,” I said lightly. “I’ve got the Liv, remember? Frost giants got nothing on my glowy blue hand ball.” I waggled my fingers against Tore’s chest.

  He pulled his head back to look at me. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again. You hear me?”

  I just nodded because he was staring at my lips while licking his own. I prayed fervently that he’d kiss me again, like, right now. Tore’s thumb ran over my bottom lip, and I sucked in a breath at the same time my knees gave out. He caught me easily, snaking an arm around my lower back to support my weight.

  He kissed my nose, my forehead, each cheek. Then he whispered into my ear. “I should have kissed you weeks ago. One day soon, I’m going to kiss every inch of your body.” He trailed his finger from my shoulder to my wrist, sending a sea of goosebumps across my skin. Oh, God, yes.

  “I look forward to it,” I whispered. I reached out for his energy, but I couldn’t sense anything. Dang it. Tore had thrown his wall up. Again.

  “What happened?” I bit down on the inside of my cheek. “When I was, uh, passed out, I sensed your energy. I can never do that. And now you’re back to being a void. Why did you shut me out?”

  Tore lowered his forehead to mine again. “I’m not trying to shut you out. You have to understand, being close to someone is hard for me, Allie. My default is to keep a shield up so nobody can track me . . . or even just read me. But when I thought the woman I’m falling in love with might die, maintaining the shield sort of dropped off my priority list. You know?”

  Super-hot demigod said what? “You’re falling in love with me?” I let the words hang in the air, trying them on. They sounded really, really good.

  Tore tucked a loose strand behind my ear. “You’re stubborn. You steal my bacon. You can’t cook. And you pepper sprayed me the first time I saw you. But I’m falling for you. The thought of losing you forever completely ruined me.”

  I ruined Tore. Me. Holy fre
aking mother of pearl! My heart swelled, and I held an internal cartwheel fest before pulling myself together. “Well,” I demurred, “I guess, now that you mention it, we do have a little bit of a connection.”

  Tore laughed; a big, deep, hearty laugh that healed every last bit of my soul. I leaned forward and kissed him again, relishing the feel of his scruffy beard against my face. When I pulled away, I leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I’m falling pretty hard for you, too. But I think you already knew that.”

  A knock on the door jolted me from our moment. I wasn’t sure what the Asgardian protocol was for a protector dating his charge, so I took a step away from Tore. But he slipped his hand into mine and pulled me close. By the time the knock sounded again, his arm was wrapped possessively around my shoulders. “You’re not going anywhere,” he murmured.

  Good Lord, he is hot.

  “It’s open,” I called, feebly.

  Greta peeked her head around the corner of the door, her cherubic features lighting up when she saw me. “Allie! You’re awake! And you’re standing!”

  Bodie filed into the room behind her. He darted his eyes between me and Tore, then stalled on Tore’s arm around my shoulder. One corner of his mouth turned up in a smile. “Well, well, well. Couldn’t wait until she changed out of her healing unit gown, could you?”

  “Shut up, Bodie.” Heat crept up my neck.

  “Aw, I’m happy for you guys. Well, I’m happy for him.” Bodie tilted his head at Tore. “He’s totally getting the better end of this deal. You sure you don’t want to back out? If it’s demigods you’re into, I could introduce you to a slew of them. Warriors, diplomats, artists, what’s your type, Allie?”

  “Yeah, it’s not too late to change your mind. Tore’s a handful.” Johann chimed in from over Bodie’s shoulder.