by Lisa Oliver
This close, Thor’s warm scent coming from the man and the covers resonated with something deep inside of him. Thor smelled of them and while sand cats as a rule were solitary creatures, the cat knew his bond with the god was a special one, reserved only for him. That didn’t mean he was going to go all silly and rub himself all over Thor’s naked chest and face. Thor was his mate and as such the cat recognized he owned the man and it was Thor’s duty to care for him. But the cat did recognize Thor was his hearth, his home, his reason for living. Settling down on his front haunches, Orin closed his eyes. If his face was resting slightly against his mate’s chest, it was entirely coincidental.
Chapter Sixteen
Thor woke up to a ringing phone. Helios was high in the sky and there was a golden cat stretched out along his forearm. “Phone,” he muttered, waiting for it to appear in his hand. “Lasse, this had better be good. You woke me up.”
“You’re lucky you’re getting any sleep. I’m the one with a pregnant mate, not to mention a psychotic brother and a rampaging elf both demanding to know where Orin is.”
“I didn’t think you had a psychotic brother,” Thor teased, running a finger across soft fur. Orin stretched under his finger, but kept his eyes closed. “You’re the quiet one, Artemas is the academic one, Nereus has the reputation as the sexy one and then there’s Baby. Unless something’s happened to Baby I don’t know about, or another brother has popped out of the coral, then I’m not seeing a psycho in your family tree.”
“All of them have had psychotic moments, and at the moment it’s Artemas’s turn. He’s insistent I take Orin back down to Dad’s palace. He’s found a stack of documents rescued from a shipwreck he wants Orin to decipher. Between you and me, I think he’s trying to find out how strong your mate’s gift is. Those fragments he showed me look like a dog had chewed them and spit them out.”
“That’s entirely up to Orin. All I can promise is I’ll tell him about it.” Thor chuckled as Orin stretched out onto his back, lazily batting at Thor’s finger. “What’s with the rampaging elf? If you mean that asshole Cathair, I’ll happily meet up with him if he wants. I still have a score to settle with him for upsetting my mate.”
“Cathair is the high ruler of the elven realm. You can’t just go knocking him out without repercussions.”
“Watch me.” Thor tickled Orin under his jaw loving how the sweet cat tilted his head and demanded more. His front paws were lightly cupped around Thor’s hand, but his claws were sheathed.
“Maybe you should talk to Orin about it first,” Lasse suggested. “All I know is Cathair was really upset when you disappeared with your mate. He’s worried Orin was never told the truth of his heritage or his elven family. The elven seers have also warned Cathair Orin’s book could bring him grief. Cathair believes your mate would be better protected by the elves.”
Thor yawned. Orin was truly adorable in his fur and Thor wanted to curl up with him and sleep some more. “Elves can’t protect Orin from the gods. Face it, his entire life he wasn’t noticed by the elven community at all and now he has the summoning spell, suddenly, they’re all over him. The only danger to Orin is if one of the gods gets paranoid about the spell he knows. That’s why I was Fated to be his. To protect him from paranoid gods.”
“An elf has already tried to take the book once,” Lasse warned. “It could happen again. Meeting Cathair might yield information you can use to protect him, and Orin could get some closure about his family.”
“I’ll talk to Orin, that’s all I’m going to promise. I’ll call you later and let you know what we decide. In the meantime, turn your phone off, snuggle with your mate and leave me to snuggle with mine.”
Chucking his phone on the floor, Thor grinned at Orin. “Look at you. I said you were sweet before, but as a sand cat, you’re adorable. Yes, yes, and a fearful predator too,” he added with a laugh as Orin lightly scratched at his hand. “Shall I magic up a ball of yarn for you to play with, or are you happy lounging around on the bed?”
The snotty look Thor got at the yarn comment made him laugh. Gathering his mate up gently in his arms, Thor lay back stroking the cat against his chest. “Who knew this could be so peaceful,” he said softly. And who knew I’d enjoy it? The Fates will be cackling up a storm if they could see me now.
/~/~/~/~/
Thor had been deliberately evasive all day. While Orin was thrilled his cat form met with his mate’s approval – Thor seemed to enjoy lazing around and stroking him – he didn’t think Thor realized he’d heard both sides of the conversation with Lasse. But his mate never said a word about it. They slept in until lunchtime – Thor whipped up pizzas. That afternoon Orin got to experience the ball dropping joys that could be had with mutual blow jobs, and after that it seemed only fitting to take another nap. But now evening was drawing in and Orin wanted to talk. Thor didn’t seem so keen.
“Do you fancy going out to a club tonight?” Thor asked as Orin came back from giving himself a pep talk in the bathroom about being more assertive. “I know it might not be your scene, but you have to try it at least once, right?”
“Not right now, Thor. You can go if you like. I… er… I have to go back to my old apartment and see if anything’s salvageable after the Foggerty episode. I wasn’t sure if you actually wanted me to move in with you, but I do need to do something about my stuff.”
“That doesn’t have to stop us going out together.” Thor clambered off the couch and held out his hand. “We’ll zap over there now, I’ll do my godly magic and all your belongings will be back here before you can blink. Then we can go out. I’ve been thinking about dancing with you in my arms all afternoon.”
“You spent most of the afternoon sucking or snoring,” Orin said drily.
“Gods do not snore.”
“That’s what you think. The thing is, you might think your conversation with Lasse this morning…hear me out, damn it.” Raising his hand, Orin magicked a large ball gag into Thor’s mouth. “Now, as I was saying,” he continued as Thor’s eyes damn near fell out of his head. “I could hear both sides of the conversation this morning – one of the benefits of being a shifter. You promised Lasse you would talk to me about Artemas and Cathair and you haven’t. In fact, you make a point of distracting me every time I try to bring it up.”
Unclipping the ball gag, Thor made exaggerated movements with his mouth once the gag fell free. “I didn’t see you complaining about the blow jobs, and I only promised Lasse I would discuss it with you. I didn’t say when.”
“And when were you going to discuss it with me? Lasse’s got enough on his plate with Jason without having to act as an intermediary between Artemas, Cathair and me. I don’t know how I feel about any of this shit – Cathair’s claims of kinship or Artemas setting me up so my gift will fail – but I did think my mate would have the common decency to at least discuss it with me like he said he would, instead of distracting me all day.”
“You enjoyed the blow job.” Thor was pouting.
“I loved the blow job. I adored the blow job. It was the best blow job in the history of sucking. It’s not about the blow job!” Orin realized he was yelling and tried to calm down, but his stress levels were about to go through the roof. “Damn it, Thor, don’t you ever have a serious discussion about anything?”
“I don’t want to see you crying again.” Thor stuck his nose in the air. “You can’t blame a god for trying to protect his mate.”
“Who said I was going to cry?” By the Fates, Orin was going to regret doing that for eternity. “I allowed myself one moment of weakness, in the arms of my mate, which I thought was allowed, and you’re going to withhold anything remotely serious from me from now on because of it?”
“So, is that yes to going out? Only if you are, you might want to change.”
Orin looked down at the sweatpants, which was the only thing he was wearing apart from his necklace which he refused to take off, and then up at Thor who was now looking far too sexy in his leather pants and tigh
t top. “Go by yourself. You’re dressed like you’re trolling for a hook up, so you might as well find one. I’ve got more serious things to do.” Swirling his arms, which would have been a lot more effective if he’d been wearing a cape, Orin disappeared from Thor’s apartment. And it was Thor’s, not theirs, like he’d blindly dreamed about earlier in the day. If the man couldn’t even be bothered to talk to him….
“What the hell?” Six Vikings in full battle gear were waiting in his apartment.
“You’re coming with us.” A bright silver cuff was slapped on Orin’s arm before he could blink and then his molecules were dispersing again. Shit. I wish I’d had time to put on a shirt.
/~/~/~/~/
Thor looked down at his outfit, and then back at the spot where Orin disappeared. “I always wear clothes like this when I go out,” he said, his words hollow in the empty room. “I can’t help it, I’d look sexy in a sack.”
No one answered, because no one was there. Thor didn’t like the ache in his chest that seemed to appear the moment Orin disappeared. Have we had our first fight? Thor thought that might have been the case. He’d better not expect me to apologize. I’m meant to protect him, and that’s exactly what I’m doing. Besides, he upset me saying those hateful things about the way I look.
Yeah. Thor had every right to hold out for an apology. The problem was, he was all dressed up with nowhere to go and more importantly, no one to go with. Thor huffed. “I suppose I’d better go and help him pack his things. See?” He addressed the ceiling. “I can be the bigger man here. I’ll go and help my mate even though he’s shitty with me.”
Remembering where Orin’s apartment was, Thor translocated, appearing in what appeared to be an empty space. “Orin,” he called out, even though his heart told him his mate wasn’t around. “Sweetness!” The hair perked up on the back of his neck and he heard the rustle of wing feathers. Turning, Thor caught the glimpse of black feathers, and heard the mocking caw of a raven as the bird flew away. “Father. Fuck!”
Chapter Seventeen
Orin could feel blood trickling down his knees as he was dumped on a stone floor. Shivering due to the cold, he wished he had the jacket Thor gave him with him, but his magic was strapped tighter than a corset. He heard the marching footsteps of his escort leave the room, and the resounding slam of a heavy door, then nothing more. Raising his head, Orin risked a quick look around.
He was in a hall, not a cave which had been his first assumption. Huge stone walls stretched higher than ten men. Gray stone. Everywhere Orin looked was gray stone. No furnishings, no curtains over the tall thin windows. The place had the look of a fortress about it and yet, straining his ears, Orin couldn’t hear anyone moving around. The giant fireplace, blackened by years of use indicated someone used to use the place, but there was no cheery fire in the grate now.
“Hello?” The word echoed up to the cathedral ceilings. “Is anyone here? Hello?”
Nothing. Not even the rustle of a passing mouse. “I think I’m in the shit this time,” Orin muttered as he shifted around, so he could sit on his butt, and examined his knees. The grazes would heal soon enough once he got his magic back. Orin examined the cuff gleaming on his wrist. Plain silver. No markings to indicate who’d made it, or who might be holding him. Turning his wrist one way and then the other, Orin tried to see how it might undo. But the entire thing was seamless. Magic.
It wasn’t hard for Orin to conclude that a Norse god had taken him. The Vikings were a dead giveaway on that score. It was possible another god had used the Norsemen as a ruse to make him think it was one of Thor’s line who took him, but that was unlikely. The only people who knew he was mated to Thor at all were Poseidon’s family. The big problem was, Orin didn’t have a clue which god might have spirited him away, or why. Thor had spoken affectionately of his father and said Odin was keen to meet him, so it was unlikely to be him. But Orin hadn’t met any others. Lasse and Thor were the only two gods he’d met so far, unless you included Artemas and technically, Lasse and Artemas were demi-gods. It was all very confusing, and he wasn’t getting any clues from his surroundings.
Shivering, Orin rubbed up and down his arms, trying to warm away the goosebumps. My fur, he thought suddenly. If I shift, then the cuff will fall off and I’ll be warmer. But when he opened his mind’s eye, looking for his cat, there was no response. His animal side was still there, but it was as if there was a wall between their spirits.
“Well, this sucks donkey balls.” Wrapping his arms around his grazed knees, Orin studied his huge cell in more detail. The room’s walls were curved, lending to the fortress theory, and there was only one huge, plain wooden door. No door handle, no key hole, Orin couldn’t even see the hinges. Just tall planks of wood, bound together in some invisible way, forming a formidable block between his room and whatever lay beyond.
Thor will ask for Odin’s help in finding me again. But would he? Orin muffled a whimper as he thought of the horrible way he’d dismissed Thor’s clothes. It wasn’t like him at all – Orin was never rude about another person’s appearance. But he was so damn angry at Thor’s stubborn nature and his refusal to discuss anything with him. And now he’s probably being ogled and fawned over by men and women alike, showing off his sexy body as he dances the night away. I bet he’s got some wicked moves. Resting his forehead on his knees, Orin blinked back his tears. This was all my fault.
/~/~/~/~/
Hours passed. Orin had spent fruitless time examining every stone he could reach, as well as every inch of the door, looking for a way out. When it was obvious there wasn’t one, he’d gone back to the spot where he’d been dumped and curled in on himself in an effort to conserve body heat. The room was almost fully dark when Orin realized he wasn’t alone anymore. “Hello? Who are you? Can you tell me where I am?”
“You can call me Harbard. And as for where we are, you’re in Valaskjalf, the great Lord Odin’s hall in Asgard.” There was a rustle of clothing by the wooden door, but Orin couldn’t make out the man’s features except to notice he was hellishly tall, and thin to the point of skeletal.
“Asgard? Is Odin here? May I speak with him? I think someone’s made a terrible mistake in bringing me here.” I’m not even on earth anymore. Thor will never find me.
“Lord Odin is rarely here. He wanders, you know. He has so many realms, places he prefers to this drafty hall.”
“There is a fireplace,” Orin said hopefully. “If you remove this cuff for me, I’ll get a fire going.”
Harbard’s laugh was like nails on a chalkboard. “I think not, young elf. Word has already reached Odin’s ears on your abilities to move between realms.”
“I’m here on Odin’s command?” Orin was thinking fast. He’d heard the name Harbard before. He just had to stall for time until he remembered where. “I’m mated to his son, Thor. I can’t think why Odin would kidnap me from my home and bring me here.”
“If Odin wants to see you he will. Besides, you’re not important. The necklace around your neck. Take it off and throw it to me.”
“My necklace?” Orin curled his hand around it automatically. “It wouldn’t be wise to take it off in this realm. The wards surrounding it are dangerous to anyone in the god line. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
“The elf seeks to protect the gods. How truly precious.” The cruel edge in Harbard’s voice made Orin wince. “Tell me half breed, who do you think you are to dictate to the gods?”
“I’m no one.” The chill in Orin’s bones made it hard to think. He ached all over and his stomach was empty enough to hurt. Somewhere in the distance he thought he heard a wolf howl and that didn’t help his piece of mind. “I have no idea why I was given a power I would never use, but that’s just part of my shitty life. It’s of no concern of you, whoever you are.”
But even as he said the words, Orin suddenly remembered the story of Harbard – mentioned in the legends written by Snorri Sturluson, a historian and poet from the eleventh century. Harbar
d was the name used to disguise Odin when he took on the guise of a ferryman and denied Thor safe passage. I’m talking to Odin?
“Tell me half-breed, if you’re nothing and you have no chance of getting out of here, why haven’t you used the powerful spell you hold to save your worthless life?”
“The hammer on my chest gives me immortality.” Orin got to his feet, ignoring the scream from his chilled back muscles and hip bones. “But even a life of eternal torment couldn’t convince me to betray the trust of any of the ancient gods.” He still couldn’t see Harbard/Odin clearly, but he hoped his conviction was etched on his face. “I don’t know why you would do this to your son – he is bound to me as firmly as you’re bound to your wolves and ravens. You have to know you’ve taken his heart and yet you laugh about it.”
“You are very clever, young one.” Odin, and it was Odin this time, stepped from the shadows, his wolves bristling by his side. “You can save yourself. All you need to do is summon Thor to your side.”
Orin shook his head. “Thor will find me. I will not summon him. Do your worst.”
“What makes you think he’s even looking for you?” Odin blew on his palm and a scene evolved in front of Orin’s eyes like a movie. A club. Thor holding court with at least a dozen men. Throwing his head back and laughing at something someone said. The scene fast forwarded – Thor thrusting his hands down a man’s pants while another stroked his biceps. Orin closed his eyes as the scene flickered to a bedroom.
“You don’t know your son very well.” Orin was surprised he got the words out considering how tight his jaw was. “If you think I’d be taken in by your trickery, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“You believe my son loves you? A tiny little half-breed like you?” Odin’s incredulous laughter rang around the hollow walls.
“I know he does.” Orin opened his eyes, staring Odin right in the face. “Nothing you can show me. Nothing you can tell me. Nothing you can do will convince me otherwise. Thor sees more than my outside exterior. He sees the survivor I am inside. Warriors can be trained to be ruthless, strategic and strong. A survivor has no training but has an innate strength forged in the face of adversity.” Forged. Forged. Thor’s hammer. Is it possible? “I call on the power of Mjolnir.”