“Who? Grim?” Annabel’s voice went from shock to horror. She swiveled on me, pulling her soft hand from mine with a jerk. “You killed Freya? And you didn’t think to mention it?”
I forced down the wave of anger that my own mate so readily thought the worst of me—I had killed her, after all. She couldn’t be entirely blamed for jumping to conclusions.
“I did no such thing,” I said, giving Freya a dark look. I had a good idea who had killed her, though. And why.
“Grim?” the goddess asked, her tears slowing as she took us in. “Why would Grim…?”
Annabel turned back to her, frowning. “It wasn’t Grim? Then who?”
Freya shook her head. “I cannot… Cannot tell you. Tell anyone.”
Annabel hissed out a breath. Repeatedly. “You have been cursed to silence?”
“I have,” Freya said, her voice soft and confused. “I discovered the truth, but he... He took my ability to voice his name. And then he killed me. Why… Why are you here? Who killed you, if not he who murdered me?”
Annabel gave me a long side-eye before she crossed the rest of the distance to Freya and kneeled down by her side, placing Mimir cautiously next to her. “It’s… a long story. We are trying to find our way back. The ravens said you might be able to help. We’ve got to get back, to stop Ragnarök.”
Freya shook her head and lowered her lashes with a grimace. “There is no escaping Hel, little one. There is nothing left for us but this. And there is no stopping Ragnarök. He has won.”
My mate reached up to gently wipe the tears from Freya’s sunken face. “I don’t believe that,” she said. “I am going to stop it. Verdandi wove my thread with my mates’ for a reason. We are going to stop it. And you’re going to help me.”
“I used to believe that there was no greater power than love,” Freya said, her voice hollow as she looked back up at Annabel. “That in the end, nothing could break it, and it would overcome anything if nurtured enough. Of course I did; I was the Goddess of Love. But he drove a knife through my heart and plucked me from the world. I am dead, little omega. And with me, love will soon die too.
“The Norn who wove your thread with your alphas did so to harness the deepest of devotion one would usually only find in bonds such as yours. But without love, it will never be enough. He is far too powerful a foe.”
“Nothing and no one will ever destroy the love I have for my mates,” Annabel said quietly. “We are strong enough, and we will stop him. Three of us defeated Nidhug. Whoever he is, he won’t be able to stop the six of us together.”
“Have faith, goddess,” Mimir said, his voice softer than normal. “All is not lost. Not yet.” He shot Annabel a look from underneath bushy eyebrows. “Give us some space, plum. I will speak with her.”
Annabel cast another look at the broken goddess, then nodded and got to her feet. With one last, lingering glance over her shoulder, she returned to my side.
“Now what?” she asked, eyes darting to my face. Her gaze slid over my features, taking in my every expression. She was so aware of me, as if I were a planet and she my moon—a curious sensation, since she pulled on me like gravity itself. It wouldn’t be long until I could no longer fight it—until everything I was would be wrapped around her.
“I suppose we wait,” I said, shrugging with a casualness I didn’t feel. “Make camp. See if Mimir can make something useful happen.”
“You’re so rude,” she scolded, giving me a stern look. “She was killed. I think it’s fair to have a bit of a breakdown.”
I chuffed through my nose and walked to a willow tree on the other side of the glade, where I sank into the soft grass beneath it. Hel had sucked all color and life from every inch of this world, but this close to Freya, a kernel of life remained. Perhaps this was not entirely unexpected from the Goddess of Fertility.
I gave Freya’s hunched figure a careful study. Did she have enough power left to revive Annabel?
If he had plunged a knife through her heart, her death was final—like Annabel’s would have been, had my brothers not been doomed if I’d done the same to her. But still…
My gaze fell on the white flowers surrounding her, then on the two ravens jumping from branch to branch on the outskirts of the glade, and finally to my mate. She was clearly eavesdropping on whatever the prophet was saying, despite how inconspicuously she tried to look as she paced.
She was so determined, so utterly willful in her refusal to accept defeat. If the ravens were right, if Freya could give her the means, she would make it happen. If anyone could defy death, it would be her.
I leaned my head back against the willow’s trunk and closed my eyes, wishing I could protect her from what lay ahead.
A firm pressure against my shoulder made me blink my eyes open, realization that I’d drifted off jolting adrenaline through my body and rendering me wide awake.
Annabel looked up from where she’d nestled in against my side, a soft smile curving her lips as our eyes met. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” She reached up to let a fingertip smooth over my forehead. “I rarely get to see you sleep. You looked troubled. Did you have a bad dream?”
I scoffed, but didn’t move away from her touch. “We are in Hel. If we dream, they are unlikely to be pleasant.”
“Mmm, I suppose that’s a good point.” She shifted against my side, rolling up on her knees so she could straddle me. The firm pressure of her groin against mine alerted me to her intentions before I caught her mischievous smile. “You know… it seems like we have the rest of the night. And you haven’t made me practice my control since Arni and Magga joined us.”
“You want sex?” I asked flatly.
Annabel grimaced and poked my chest. “Way to kill the mood. I was trying to flirt with you. I miss you.”
“I’m right here,” I countered, even if my cock was already rising to the occasion.
Annabel huffed and leaned in close, her breasts pressed firmly against my chest and her breath tickling my throat. “I miss you inside of me, Grim. I miss what it feels like when you lose yourself to me,” she whispered. The heat in her voice made memories of exactly that flicker in my brain, and I swallowed a groan as my cock swelled to full size and prodded insistently at what lay above it.
“We are not alone,” I reminded her, catching her hips when she ground down against my hardness.
“So?” A genuine frown crossed her features when she pulled back to look at me. “It’s not like Mimir hasn’t heard us every single time—and watched a few as well. And Freya is the Goddess of Love. You know that whole thing with Magni and Saga was her idea.”
She was right. I shouldn’t mind. It was just sex.
Except sex with Annabel was… It was so much more than physical. When I was inside her, the sheer elation of joining with her stripped me of control, and my every wall came crashing down—and there was nothing I could do to prevent that.
Understanding broke behind my mate’s eyes, and her gaze turned soft and sorrowful. “It’s not about Freya or Mimir, is it? It’s Arni and Magga.”
I sneered, even as my innate ice gripped my gut tightly. “They’re nothing but flying rats. If you want to be fucked while they watch and comment, far be it from me to prevent you living out your exhibitionistic desires.” I straightened against the tree trunk and reached for her leather armor, fingers sliding underneath straps to undo the fastenings.
But Annabel reached up to grab at my wrists, pausing my movements. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Grim,” she said so softly my heart shivered. “I get it. They pecked at you when you were small and vulnerable. I’m not going to ask you to be vulnerable in front of them again.”
And with that, she leaned forward again, this time placing a chaste kiss on my lips before she rested her head on my shoulder. Her slow breaths raised goosebumps along my skin, doing nothing for my still-straining cock nestled firmly against her covered groin.
“I didn’t know that he saw me with her,” I said. I hadn’t meant to; the words just slipped out.
Annabel pressed in harder against me. Her hands came up around my neck, stroking through my hair, but she remained quiet.
“I guess he didn’t know that it was… unwanted. If he had, he would have tormented me with it. I don’t want…” I fell silent, already regretting having opened this door.
But Annabel asked, “What don’t you want, Grim?” so softly, I had no choice but to answer.
“I don’t want them to see us together, because they will take any softness and pick at it until it’s a raw, open wound. It’s their nature,” I answered
Annabel was silent for a long time, until she finally breathed, “Hold me.”
Slowly, somewhat reluctantly, I obeyed. She felt so solid in my arms as I tightened them around her torso. So alive, despite what I’d done to her. But she wasn’t. She should have been warm under my palms, and her beautiful, haunting scent should have filled my lungs with every slow breath I drew in against the top of her head.
“I love you,” she said, her voice quiet but not weak. She didn’t move her head from my shoulder—simply let the words hang in the air around us.
Everything inside of me went still.
“You don’t,” I said, my voice rougher than expected.
She flicked my earlobe with a finger, but otherwise didn’t move. “Yeah. I do. And once you trust me enough to let me in, you’ll know I’m telling you the truth.”
I expelled a breath that should have been a laugh, but only came out like a hollow bark. “If I truly let you in, believe me, Annabel, you would not love me. What you feel is biology and Fate’s manipulation. And that is fine. I am not small and vulnerable any longer. I do not need you to tell me fairytales.”
She finally pulled back to look at me, into my eyes. There were shadows in her gaze, but also steel. “You are not unlovable. You are not broken, or wrong. The people who should have cared for you let you down. They hurt you. And you did not deserve that, Grim. All you’ve done that has been dark and awful has been to protect the people you love. You were willing to turn yourself into a literal monster to save your brothers from Ragnarök. However misguided that was, it tells me everything I need to know about your heart. You can keep your shield in place until you feel ready to trust me, but I see you, my mate. And I love you.”
It took more effort than it should have to twist my mouth into a wry smile. “That human heart of yours—even in death, it’s so soft.”
Annabel didn’t so much as blink at my mocking tone. She simply leaned in and placed a lingering kiss on my mouth before she rested her head against my shoulder once more, wrapping her arms loosely around the back of my neck.
When I glanced down at her face, her eyes were closed, her expression peaceful. It wasn’t long until she was asleep, safely nestled in my arms.
I woke up to the sensation of being watched. But instead of alarm bells, a sense of utter peace flowed through my body in languid waves paced to the steady rise and fall of my chest. I cracked my eyelids open, only to stare into a dark mass of messy hair still semi-bound into a long braid.
Annabel. I tightened my arms around the solid form resting on top of me, and sighed when something soft and tender slid into place in my chest as she nuzzled in closer in her sleep.
“Perhaps,” a quiet voice said from somewhere close, and I jolted upright, shoving Annabel to the ground behind me as I grabbed for my knives.
Pealing laughter mixed with my mate’s sleepy protests, and Freya’s sunken face came into focus.
“Relax, little godling,” she said, her laughter quieting even though a faint smile remained on her lips. “No one is trying to hurt your mate.”
“What’s happening?” Annabel grumbled from behind me. She placed a hand on my hip to push herself into a seated position.
“Nothing,” I said, irritation sharpening my tone as I shoved my knives back into their sheaths. Freya was sitting cross-legged by our side with Mimir in her lap. She was idly combing her fingers through his coarse hair—a treatment he seemed more than pleased with, judging from his half-closed eyes. “Just a goddess getting her voyeuristic kicks.”
Freya laughed again and reached out to pinch my cheek with her free hand. “Such a saucy boy.”
“You seem… better,” Annabel said, her tone careful.
“Better?” Freya hummed. “I suppose.”
“I have managed to convince the goddess that there might be hope after all,” Mimir said.
“I am told you are soulmates,” she said, her smile brightening ever so slightly. “There is… such powerful magic in a soul connection. And watching you now, wound in spirit and body as you sleep, perhaps… perhaps all is not lost.”
I shot Mimir a dark look. “That was not your information to share, prophet.”
“Oh, hush.” Annabel swatted my arm, but the excitement in her voice was palpable. “She is the Goddess of Love. I don’t think we have to fear her using that knowledge against us.”
“Certainly not,” Freya said. “It is the most sacred of connections—two souls uniting as one. It is my deepest duty to protect such a match. Even here, as this… shadow I’ve become.” Her smile faded.
I scoffed. “Even here? You mean the Norns still have their claws in you in Hel?”
Freya shot my mate a bewildered look. “The Norns?”
“Grim believes I only love him because of Verdandi weaving our threads together,” Annabel said patiently. She placed a kiss on my shoulder before resting her chin against it and wrapping her arm around my torso so she could lean against my back. “He’ll get there eventually.”
I bristled at her easy dismissal of what I knew to be the truth, but the firm pressure of her body against mine stopped any true anger from coloring my words when I bit, “Do not patronize me.”
She only kissed my shoulder in response again—much to Mimir’s amusement. I narrowed my eyes at the chuckling prophet.
But Freya looked at me with genuine surprise—and upset. “No. No, absolutely not! The Norns weave their webs as they please, but a soulmate connection is not something even they can create. Verdandi may have woven your threads together, ensuring you met, but no one can force a soul bond—not her, not her sisters, not me. But… it is so exceedingly rare… Are you certain that is what you are to each other?”
“I am certain,” I said, my voice flat. Annabel nuzzled against the back of my neck—a simple, loving gesture that made my heart ache. I shifted out of her grip and got to my feet. “But how will that help Annabel return to Asgard?”
Freya watched us both carefully, and I had the uncomfortable feeling she was analyzing every movement, every interaction between us.
“To return her to full life… it would take a miracle. And I am in no state to perform such a thing,” the goddess said. “But if your love is strong enough, true enough… Perhaps… Perhaps I can help you.”
“And you and Mimir?” Annabel asked. “Will it be enough for you to return with us?” A caw from the tree line made her add, “And Arni and Magga?”
Freya gave her a sad smile. “The prophet is not dead. He is simply… visiting Hel against his wishes. He can leave through the same means as your mate. But those of us whose bodies were struck down and no longer possess a physical manifestation among the living… no. Only the Queen of the Dead would be able to grant us such a gift. And she will not.”
“We will find a way to get her to release you, once this is all over,” Annabel said, her voice so firm I knew that she genuinely believed she would.
“Isn’t there enough resting on your shoulders? Must you be the one to save everyone—even after you are expected to stop Ragnarök itself?” I asked.
“We can’t very well live in a world without love,” Annabel said mildly, completely unruffled by my interjection. “If not me, then who?”
I ground my teeth, biting back my retort that she needed to stop this unholy habit of martyring herself. It was a moot point anyway.
Annabel brushed a hand down my back, clearly taking my silence as compliance, and looked back to Freya. “How do we proceed?”
“I will have to look into your hearts to see if there is enough strength there to draw on. If there is… If the three of us combine our powers, I will attempt to send you through the dimensions and back to Asgard.” Freya reached out a hand toward me, palm up. Expectant.
Numb dread clutched at my gut. My heart. She wanted to see behind my shields, learn the truth of my devotion.
“We can trust her, Grim,” Annabel said quietly from behind me. When I didn’t move, she got to her knees, kissed the top of my head, and crawled a few steps around me before she placed her own hand in Freya’s.
“You can look into my heart,” she said.
Light flared between the two, bright at first, then turning to a soft glow.
Annabel gasped, but before I could reach for her, her lips turned up into a blissful smile and her eyes fluttered closed.
I watched them warily, the darkness in my gut turning acid. This was the last hurdle, the final step before Annabel could return to the living and continue her woven destiny. And for it to happen, I would have to let someone—a goddess of Asgard, no less—in.
There was some poetic balance in it, I supposed. I was the one who’d taken her life. I would have to give some of myself to return it.
It took a long while, but finally Freya released Annabel’s hand and they both opened their eyes. But now, as the goddess looked at my mate, some of that divine glow had returned to her eyes, her skin a bit less sallow and sunken.
“Your heart is… so bountiful, omega,” she said softly. “A true life-bringer, even in the depths of despair and darkness. Your blessing brings me so much joy, as it will those around you.”
“Oh.” Annabel returned her smile, even if she looked flustered at the praise. “Thank you?”
Freya chuckled and turned her focus back to me. “Are you ready to save your mate, Grim Lokisson?”
Save my mate. She was as manipulative as her reputation would suggest. I had no doubt she chose her words to stir my alpha instincts to life. Slowly, I got to my feet.
“Very well,” I said through gritted teeth. “But… not here. Somewhere private.”
“Oh.” Freya looked surprised for a split-second, but then smiled and stood as well, pleased she’d gotten her way. “Of course. If that will make it easier for you, young one.”
“Do you want me to come?” Annabel asked, already rising onto her knees to follow.
“No,” I said, and she fell back down in the grass, eager to make this as comfortable for me as possible. “Please, just… stay here. And keep the flying cretins with you.”
“Of course,” my mate said softly. She smiled at me, and I pushed away the thread of sadness worming its way through my chest at the knowledge that it would be a very long time before she looked at me like that again.
If ever.
I turned around and stalked out of the glade, into the dark woods surrounding us.
I stopped by the side of a small waterfall trickling over mossy stones and waited.
Freya’s soft footfall found me soon enough, and I steeled myself and turned around to her.
She gave me a gentle smile, and in it I saw the echoes of what she used to be before he drove his dagger into her heart and ripped her from the world. “There is nothing to fear. Your mate loves you so much. She has nothing but forgiveness and understanding in her heart for your sins.”
“She has such a soft nature,” I said. “It is perhaps her only real flaw.”
“What she feels for you, for all five of you, is no flaw, Lokisson. It is her greatest strength.” The goddess stepped closer. “Will you let me into your heart, young one?”
“I wish that you would take no for an answer,” I said. “But there is no way around this, is there?”
She shook her head. “No. There is not.”
I drew in a deep breath and inclined my head once. “Then do what you must.”
Freya placed her hand against my chest, eyelids fluttering closed as a warm sensation spread inward from where she touched me, threading through my flesh and into the cavity behind.
I stood still while she searched my innermost and laid every private thought bare. It was… excruciating. She was gentle, but it was nothing like Annabel’s presence within me during those fleeting moments our souls had merged. She belonged there, within me, and I within her. Freya did not, and my powers rose up in defense, dark and violent, only scarcely tethered by the full force of my will.
It took longer than it had with Annabel before Freya withdrew from me.
Her eyes were wide as they met mine, and there was no trace of her gentle smile.
“You have to surrender to her, Grim,” she said. “You must. I see your love for her. It is such a bright, burning fire. It is strong enough to banish the darkness in you. I swear it.”
I gave her a mirthless smile. “You are wrong; my love for her is darkness. But I loved my brothers before I ever did her, and though my mind is being twisted by this… bond, I will always remember my duty to them.
“I will give anything, have given everything, to make sure they live through Ragnarök, and that will not change even if fickle biology wills me to sacrifice my previous obligations for her.”
“They will live through Ragnarök, and so will billions more, if you surrender,” Freya said, desperation tinging her voice even as she strained to keep calm. “With you and the four others by her side, she will be strong enough. You must trust in her.”
I pulled my lips up higher, my smile turning into a sneer as I towered above her. “And therein lies the problem, sweet goddess. She requires five mates by her side to stop Ragnarök. Five gods sharing her powers. Her body. Her soul. You are no better than the Norns, twisting their vile webs around free will. You, the Goddess of Love, have created this… festering thing, and you dare act as if it were a gift?
“When I imagine her with them, when I saw her with them even before I made her mine, all I could think of was to close my hands around the necks of the only two beings I have ever loved and squeeze their lives out.
“But she is mine. She is half of my godsdamn soul. I cannot share her. And I will not risk harming my own brothers. So no, Freya—I will not be helping you perform your little miracle. I will not send Annabel home. She will stay here. With me. For eternity. That is what your precious gift of love has wrought.”
Freya opened her mouth as if to speak, but in my face, she saw the truth of the darkness she had encountered in my heart. Naked fear flared in her eyes and she made to turn, to run from me and that darkness she had believed could be conquered if I just surrendered.
I felt no joy when I plunged my knife into her heart.