“You dare question my honor because I refuse to lower myself to this… this arrangement between you, my brother, and the three trolls? You, who spread your legs for the betrayer’s son? You know nothing of honor, omega, and you will not speak again on matters you don’t understand.”
Great. It seemed Magni didn’t get his haughty views on an omega’s place from strangers. I twisted my shoulder out of Modi's grip and gave him what I hoped was a withering stare.
“I don’t care about your honor, Thorsson; I care about my parents surviving. My entire species. You’re a freaking god, and you’d rather fight an unwinnable battle than even consider that Magni might be right. He took me to Verdandi, and she showed me the consequences of ignoring Mimir’s prophecy.
“Do you think I wanted any part of this? That Saga or Magni wanted to share a mate with each other? We’re doing what we have to to save the world. You don’t want to be a part of that? Fine. We don’t need you. But you don’t get to play high and mighty when you don’t have the balls to do what your brother or the trolls are trying to do.”
I wasn’t entirely sure where my anger came from. It wasn’t like any of the four men who’d brought me here had set out with noble intentions—they’d all wanted to claim me for selfish reasons. But after everything—after Verdandi’s warnings, after the trials to pass through to Asgard, and rescuing Magni in Freya’s hall—I knew both Saga and Magni would help me save the world from destruction, and that Grim and Bjarni would follow where their brother led.
That this stranger, this golden son who’d been favored over my mate, looked down on his own brother for finally trying to do what was right? I was having exactly none of it.
“Now if it doesn’t impede your precious honor," I sneered, "I’d like to try to get my mates back from whatever boorish Valkyrie thought she could grab them from me.”
I spun to face the golden city towering on the mountain straight ahead on the path before Modi could even respond. I managed to stomp several yards down the path before gravel crunched behind me and the red-headed god fell in by my side.
“You’re a nasty little thing.” Despite his crass words, Modi’s temper seemed to have settled in the wake of my own. In fact, he sounded mildly amused. “Loudmouthed, abrasive… a discredit to omegas. My brother must truly have been desperate when he claimed you.”
“Well, you’re an overbearing dick. As far as gods go, you’re pretty much a letdown too,” I growled, annoyance and a surprising sensation of hurt fizzing in my veins.
It wasn’t that I wanted to be a so-called good omega. As far as I was concerned, what men considered good omegas were women who’d been oppressed and cultivated their whole lives to be demure and always bend to an alpha's will, disregarding her own wants and needs. It wasn't a life I wanted any part of.
But being told Magni must’ve been desperate to claim me? That hurt, even if I knew it to be true. Maybe even because I knew it was true.
I pressed a hand to my chest where his and Saga’s bonds were humming agitatedly. This wasn’t what I’d thought love would be like, in the few moments I’d spared it a thought while I was busy with my studies. This deep, aching incompleteness whenever my mates weren’t with me was awful, like I’d somehow lost chunks of myself. There were gaping wounds left now, and only my mates could heal them.
Getting reminded that the only two people in the world who could make me stop aching wouldn’t have picked me if they’d thought they had any other option? It straight-up sucked.
I shot Modi another glare before I refocused on the golden city ahead. Reluctant or not, they were mine, and no arrogant god-son or uppity Valkyrie was going to keep me from returning them to my side where they belonged.
Two
Annabel
The trek up the mountain was tough, but I found that my desperation to be reunited with Saga and Magni kept my strides fast and even as I climbed the winding path.
Soon large halls and towers topped with gilded roofs sprung up beside us, getting more ornately decorated as we rose. Large reliefs depicting tales of battles adorned the rough-hewn walls, and despite my eagerness to find my mates, the historian in me couldn’t contain herself.
When I came to one that was surrounded by runes, I paused to squint at the ancient writing. “Is this…?”
“The story of Arngrim the Beserker?” Modi asked. “Yes. When he is not fighting or feasting in Valhalla, he resides here.”
I was vaguely aware my mouth was hanging open. I’d read about a number of old Norse heroes during my studies, and the realization that they lived on here was baffling. But then again, in a world where gods were alive, why not long-dead heroes?
I touched the part of the carving depicting a long-haired, smaller figure. “Eyfure? His wife?”
“You know your stories,” Modi said. “Yes, the omega princess he won the right to claim after defeating two chieftains.”
“Is she here too?”
Modi chuckled. “An omega among the warriors of Valhalla? No. I suspect she’s in Hel.”
I knew the old Vikings saw death differently than many religions did today and that Hel wasn’t synonymous with hell, but the thought that a pair-bonded couple would be forced apart in the afterlife seemed so cruel.
I pressed a hand to my chest, wondering if the emptiness would vanish upon death, and turned away from the relief. It was not something I particularly wished to dwell on right now.
“Most noble warriors go to Valhalla,” Modi said as we continued the climb. Judging from the gentleness in his tone, I suspected I hadn’t managed to hide my anguish on Arngrim's and Eyfure’s behalves. “It’s the greatest honor. Any wife would wish nothing more for her mate.”
I stopped myself from asking him how he’d have any inkling what a mated omega would want. Asshat or not, I needed as much of his support as I could get in rescuing my mates from whatever fate the Valkyries had planned for them.
Then something he’d said made me frown. “Most noble warriors go to Valhalla? I thought it was all?”
“Some go to Folkvangr,” Modi explained. “Freya’s house. You must have seen them when you visited.”
“There was no one when we were there. Just Freya and her cats,” I said, glancing at him.
He frowned. “No, that can’t be right. Freya wouldn’t deploy them without consulting with the other gods. You must be mistaken—she must have taken you to some other place.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but just then we rounded the final corner and Valhalla finally rose up in front of me.
My jaw sagged as I stared up at the structure. It stretched even farther toward the sky than Udgard, its supporting beams seemingly made up of massive spears. At the front, two wolves the size of corn-fed bulls rested on each side of the gates wide enough for twenty men to walk through shoulder-to-shoulder. From what I could make out of the roof, it looked like…
“Golden shields?”
Modi followed my gaze. “Yes. And the birds circling—”
“Talking ravens?”
“Huginn and Munin,” he said. “The Allfather’s messengers.”