Betraying Destiny (The Omega Prophecy Book 3)

by Nora Ash

  I stepped forward quick enough to yank Magni back by his shoulder. The absolute idiot was bristling and ready to prove himself—against the Goddess of Death. I’d always taken him for the slightly smarter of Thor’s sons. Apparently, I’d been wrong.

  I gave him a withering stare before I stepped forward in his place. “I am the one who caused my mate’s untimely death. I am the one who will pay any price for her release. If it is a bargain you require, sister, I will give you my life in exchange for hers.”

  Annabel’s blind panic at my offer hit me like a cold punch to the gut, but she didn’t speak, didn’t beg me to recant. She only stood there, silent.

  Good.

  Hel eyed me, an evaluating look, as if she were weighing up the worth of my soul compared to Annabel’s. “An interesting proposal, my brother of Mist and Shadows. How thoroughly a spell Fate must have woven for you to switch your allegiance yet again. I was told you were most eager to betray your brethren and murder the woman destined to be yours. I trust that they know the full extent of your deception, hmm?”

  “We do. Your barbs will find no purchase here,” Annabel said, sharp and clear and uncowed. I turned around in horror just in time to see her place Mimir’s head in Bjarni’s arms and step forward. Spine straight and shoulders back, she strode past me and continued all the way to the foot of Hel’s throne. Shimmering tendrils of power licked along her ankles and rose around her like a billowing cape—an amalgamation of hers and ours.

  “As it is my fate we are here to discuss, you will do so with me, Your Majesty,” Annabel said. She gave Hel a tiny dip of her head, then stared straight into those void-like eyes that had swallowed countless souls.

  Everything in me clenched with abject terror, but when Modi gasped, “Anna!” and made to storm after her, I held him back. I had the same, instinctive urge to throw myself between our mate and the danger in front of her, but I also knew that doing so would ruin Annabel’s chances. She was right; this was her fate, and she was the woman destined to stop the end of the world, not us. Hiding behind us would win her no respect from this goddess.

  “Well, well,” Hel all but purred as she took in the power gently curling around Annabel. “Now I see why he was so keen for you to die. I admit—the idea that a mere human might stand against the tides of destruction had me… doubtful as to the truth of this prophecy of yours. But you, little soul… you are far more interesting than you seem at first glance, aren’t you? Look how you have tamed their power and brought it to heel—just as efficiently as it appears you have the males themselves.”

  “I wish to leave this place,” Annabel said. “Tell me what you want in exchange for returning me to the world of the living.”

  Hel tutted and shook her head. “All I want, little soul, is for Ragnarök to ravage its way through all nine worlds so I can walk free once more. I am afraid there is no bargain you can offer that will tempt me to release you. Your mere existence is a threat to my own desires, and that pretty power you wield only amplifies my need to keep you here.”

  She shot a glance at me, Saga, and Bjarni. “But out of, ah, familial obligation, I shall not send you to my soul siphon unless you leave me no other choice. That is as much as I can do for you, sister.”

  Annabel was quiet for a little while. Then, without looking at us, she said, “I believe if we speak privately, you will change your mind.”

  The knot of terror in my gut clenched tighter. No! You cannot be alone with her!

  The thought I sent through our bond was more instinctive than a conscious choice, but it was echoed in Saga’s snarl.

  A soft touch through our connection was all the response I got—a gentle promise that she would be okay. To trust her.

  It took all I had to obey. By my side, Modi was shaking with the urge to retrieve her, but he too managed to remain stalwart.

  We had to trust that she was strong enough to execute whatever plan she had in mind.

  Hel watched our mate with a sugar-sweet smile and eyes as calculating as a serpent eying its next meal. “Ooh, how intriguing. I am almost tempted to oblige you.”

  Annabel stretched out a hand toward her, palm up. “Then come. I will make it worth your while—sister.”

  Hel’s eyes flashed and her smile widened once more. Locking her gaze on Annabel’s, she placed her own, bony hand in hers and rose from her throne. She was taller than our mate, but thinner, looking both frail and eternally dangerous as she stared down at the woman I loved with everything I was.

  Without another word—without a single glance in our direction—the Queen of Death led our mate from the throne room and into the darkness beyond.

  Twenty-Nine

  Annabel

  Loki had sired many a monster. As Hel led me from the throne room and into another dark hall, I was reminded that the goddess beside me had less likeness to a divine creature like Freya, and more to the giant sea serpent we had seen as we flew across the Atlantic.

  On each side of the large room and stretching as far into the darkness as I could see, glass cages lined the space. Each one contained a faintly glowing, spectral entity. I didn’t need to ask what they were—I felt it into the marrow of my bones: souls from the siphon, waiting for Hel to break them.

  “Tell me then, little soul: What do you wish to discuss out of earshot of all those big, strong men of yours?” The goddess turned to me, that sardonic smile still dancing on her lips as she took me in.

  “Your return to the world of the living,” I said, deliberately not looking at the caged souls all around us. “I suspect there is a reason you have been trapped down here for so long.”

  Her smile turned sharper. “They fear me, of course. Wield a little death magic, and suddenly you’re banished to this place. But I am soon to be free. And they will pay.”

  It took everything I had not to shrink from the dark fire in her eyes as she relished the thought of revenge on the gods who had trapped her here. “And have you given much thought to what you will be returning to?”

  Hel raised her eyebrows at me, daring me to continue.

  “You have been trapped here, in the land of the dead, for millennia. I have only been here a few weeks, and what I miss the most is color, the scents… Life. But after Ragnarök… as I understand it, there will be nothing. No colors, no chirping birds, no warmth of companionship—just darkness and misery.” I cocked my head. “Isn’t that what you are trying to leave behind?”

  “There will be life, after it is all over,” she said. “A new beginning.”

  I lifted my brows. “Oh? I believe someone told me about that… Something about a few gods surviving? And two humans? Two of every animal? And which prophecy is this from again?”

  Hel hesitated, and I could have sworn a look of uncertainty flashed in her eyes, but it was gone just as swiftly as it arrived. “It has been known for as long as we have expected Ragnarök.”

  “Mmm. But there isn’t actually a prophecy that explains what happens after the end, is there? Just assumptions made by scared gods wanting to reassure themselves that everything is going to be okay—that their inability to protect the nine worlds won’t mean the end of everything.”

  I turned away from her, forcing my instincts screaming not to turn my back on a monster to calm, and walked to one of the rows of glass cages. “You know what this theory of what comes after reminds me of? The Christian faith. They have a whole two-people-populated-the-Earth thing going. And something-something two of each animal surviving a global extinction.

  “There is no silver lining to Ragnarök, Hel. There is nothing. Whatever stories the gods have spun, there is no basis for it. No prophecies, no promise. Nothing. Your freedom will be spent in an eternity far bleaker than your current prison.”

  She was silent for a long moment. Then the whisper of gossamer fabric on stone approached where I stood, drawing up close behind me.

  “You speak with such confidence, little soul.” Her tone was somewhere between a purr and a sneer
. “What are you but a human thrust into a game dictated by powers stronger than you?”

  I squared my shoulders at her derisive words, but didn’t look away from the glowing soul in the cage before us twisting in search of a way out. “I am the one prophesized to stop this madness. Do you truly think if life came after Ragnarök, if it was a new beginning rather than the end of everything, that Fate would have thrust me into this mess in some desperate effort to stop it? If it is truly meant to be, why am I here?”

  “You make... interesting points, sister,” Hel said after another lengthy pause. She placed her bony hand on the glass between us and the soul. The air inside the cage shimmered, and the soul let out a gasp as it seized—only to shatter into a thousand pieces. They fell to the floor with the soft chiming of silver bells, an iridescent smoke slipped through the glass and into Hel.

  I stared at the now-empty cage, willing the tears blurring my vision to dry. This was too important; I couldn’t falter now.

  “But interesting as they might be, I would rather walk in darkness up there than be trapped here. Even a realm as vast as the underworld gets… tedious after a few millennia.” The goddess turned from the glass and strode farther into the grand hall beyond.

  I steeled myself before following her. “Then let me suggest an alternative.”

  She looked at me over her shoulder, eyebrows lifting again. “An alternative? My, you are an intriguing little creature, aren’t you? No wonder my brothers are so smitten. They may be our father’s most banal offspring, but even they have the zest for the macabre he passes on to all of us.”

  I ignored her comment, even though I was quite sure it was some sort of a dig. “Let me stop Ragnarök. Free me, and don’t come to Midgard with your army of undead. In return, I will find a way to free you once we have stopped it. You will walk in the world of the living again—in the true world of the living. You will see color, feel the warmth of the sun on your skin, and experience what life truly is like.”

  Her lips curled into that dangerous smile again. “Even if that were something I desired, I doubt you would be able to find a way where I have failed. Intriguing or no, you are only a human.”

  “Human-ish,” I said with a nonchalance I didn’t feel. “I have captured the God of Mischief, defeated Nidhug, and I will stop Ragnarök. If you agree to this bargain, I will find a way to free you. I promise.”

  “The promise of a desperate woman,” Hel mused. She turned from me and walked to another cage, dark eyes hooded as she regarded the soul within. “Willing to lie, beg, and steal for her freedom.”

  “I will swear a blood oath,” I said despite the twang of fear in my gut. “And I will give you anything you desire.”

  Hel skimmed her fingers down the glass between us and the unfortunate soul within. The air shimmered lightly, but no shattering followed. “Anything I desire?” The purr was back in her voice. “And if that is a life?”

  I had known this would be a likely outcome. That was why I had requested to speak with her alone. My mates would never allow me to bargain my life, but this was the Goddess of Death. Her price was expected.

  “Then I would give it.” My voice didn’t falter. For that, I was grateful. “But only my life—you will have to find a way to spare my mates death upon our bonds being severed.”

  And she would have to spare my daughter too. It took everything I had not to press a hand to my abdomen. But if my choice was to let my child grow up without a mother, or to let the world she would live in get swallowed by darkness and doom… then it was not difficult to pick.

  The goddess kept her eyes on the cage, but I saw her smile hike up higher. “Hmm. You really are eager, little soul. I am pleased—you passed my test. If you will trade your own life, I deem your commitment worthy of a bargain.”

  Her test? A thread of relief wormed its way through my chest, even as I braced for the other shoe to drop. If she didn’t want my life, then what?

  She finally turned to me then, dark eyes glowing, and clasped a bony hand around my wrist with strength far greater than her frail physique would suggest her capable of. “I want the spark within you, Annabel Turner. My brothers can keep you—call it a wedding gift, if you like. But if you want me to release you, if you want me to remain here with my armies while you fight Ragnarök… then you will give me your spark.”

  I frowned. “My magic? What…”

  I trailed off. It was a stupid question. Hadn’t I shown her my power as I stepped up to her throne? Warned her of its strength? Told her how I defeated both Nidhug and her father? There were a great many things a goddess as dangerous as Hel could use my magic for.

  But what she didn’t know was that my true strength came from my mates. Without them, my magic was far less extraordinary. Far less dangerous in the wrong hands.

  It was a part of me, yes—something that had offered me strength when I’d thought I had none—and the thought of giving it up was painful. But not nearly as painful as giving my own life, and I had been willing to offer that.

  “I will need it to stop Ragnarök,” I said slowly. “But… after. If that is what you want, I will give it freely.”

  “Then we have an agreement.” Hel closed her eyes. Black plumes of power rose around her and swept through me, coaxing out my own magic. “Swear to me that you will free me from the underworld and allow me to walk wherever I please. Swear to me that in nineteen years, you will willingly surrender the spark you carry today to my servitude. Swear this, and you will be the first soul I free from my realm. Swear this, and I will not ravage the world of the living with my armies.”

  Something about her wording caught me off-guard, but the power of her magic tangling with mine and the monumental importance of this moment made me push the nagging notion away.

  “I swear it,” I said.

  My power stuttered in my veins, as if something yanked on it before the spell released its grip on me, and I stumbled a step forward, my gaze sweeping up over the glass and the soul inside.

  Her mouth was open in a silent scream, pale eyes wide with abject horror.

  I recognized her instantly.

  “Such a sweet present my brother sent me,” Hel purred by my side. She released my wrist and pressed her fingertips to the glass. “The Goddess of Love, tragically murdered by the man she tried to help. Love can be treacherous.”

  “Freya,” I whispered, the tears I had managed to keep at bay for the other soul now trickling down my cheeks. I placed my hand against the glass in a futile hope to shield her from the dark goddess by my side.

  “She is easy to love, isn’t she?” Hel mused. “So kindhearted, so beautiful… Who doesn’t love Love?”

  “Please let her go,” I whispered. “The world won’t be right without love in it. Without her.”

  Hel clicked her tongue. “I have already agreed to let you go, and now you ask for more? Greed doesn’t become you, sister.”

  “Please,” I repeated. “She is innocent. She—”

  “I don’t care who is innocent and who is guilty,” Hel snapped, her voice cracking like a whip through the hall. “They all come to me, every last soul not destined for Asgard—the good, the wicked, the unremarkable… Their bodies nourish the lands above, but their souls feed the powers of this realm.”

  “Do you even know what a world without love will be like?” I asked. “It will be exactly like here—dead. Miserable. Is that what you wish to escape to?”

  Hel chuffed. “I care little for love. But if you do, perhaps you should be the one to take this soul within you, hmm? If you cannot bear the thought of a world without love, I will grant you the chance to return it… after a fashion.”

  I blinked. Surely, she couldn’t mean… “W-What?”

  “Devour her,” Hel said, the glow in her eyes turning vicious. “Take her soul and make it yours.”

  “No!” I jerked back from the prison, horror clawing at my throat. “Never! I could never do that!”

  “What a pity.” He
l stroked her fingers along the glass. The air around Freya shimmered threateningly. “I think, if given the choice, our pretty goddess would prefer her final resting place to be within someone who believes in love. What say you, Freya? Who would you rather be eaten by? Me, or your protégé?”

  The silvery soul within the prison twisted, her large eyes sliding from Hel to me. The naked plea in them was undeniable.

  I swallowed thickly. Could I do it? Could I… devour a soul? The thought alone was so repulsive it made my stomach lurch, but between me and Hel…

  Was I the merciful option?

  The grim determination on Freya’s spectral features told me the answer.

  “Okay.” Shaking despite my best efforts to appear strong, I placed my hand back on the glass. “I’ll do it.”

  Hel pressed her fingertips lightly against my nape. “Good girl.”

  I cringed at her touch, but managed to remain still, eyes locked on Freya’s.

  The air around her vibrated more rapidly, blurring the edges of her already hazy outline. “I’m sorry,” I whispered through my tears. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  “Take her,” Hel hissed. “Now.”

  Light ripped out from the center Freya’s spectral form, shattering her. The pieces fell to the floor with the softest twinkle, a faint whisper of a melody, as the Goddess of Love ceased to exist.

  A ribbon of white glided through the glass and into my mouth and nostrils. It tasted like summer rain and green leaves, and the first flowers of spring.

  I swallowed on instinct, and then she was in me. I felt her sliding through my veins, filling me up not with horror, but with quiet sorrow, and the lightest touch of… gratitude.

  She settled low in my abdomen, curling protectively around the still-invisible child growing there.

  “See? It is not so bad, is it?” Hel purred. “Mayhaps you will even develop a taste for it.”

  I glared at her through the tears still trickling down my face. “No. You have not turned me into a monster with this little ploy of yours. Now, are you ready to live up to your end of the bargain? Or do you have more games to play?”