I could sense every tender emotion he felt as he stared in wonder down at the little thing in his arms. It was tinged with uncertainty and pain, but the soft, warm emotions were unmistakable.
Underneath all the bullshit, he cared for this human girl.
Annabel pressed her back closer to the blond alpha’s body, her features easing with every rumble vibrating through his chest. When she put her hand on his arm in a display of gratitude, something in me snapped.
I moved without conscious thought, rage, jealousy, and need pulling me onto the bed. She did not open her eyelids when I slid down next to her, pressing my naked skin to her front. She shivered at the contact, but a small hum of appreciation escaped her throat.
At least she was getting jerked around by bullshit instinct too. I knew she did not care for me, did not even really like me, but she craved my nearness as much as I did hers.
Staring a challenge at Bjarni, I forced a loud purr from my chest as well, drowning out his low rumble.
The blond giant narrowed his eyes at me as he increased his volume, a touch of aggression to the tone.
Between us, Annabel sighed. “Alphas,” she muttered. But she kept her eyes closed, and soon she drifted off to sleep, sandwiched between the two gods who had given up their own fates for her.
Twenty
Bjarni
Annabel slept for nearly twenty hours. I dozed in and out of consciousness while she rested, alternating with Modi. We didn’t discuss staying awake to guard the omega between us. We took turns naturally. The schedule worked itself out.
I guessed that was one of the "perks" of sharing a bonded mate—there was another alpha to watch over her while I slept.
Of course I’d have happily traded the ability to sleep peacefully if it meant my Annabel belonged to me and me alone. Perhaps then she wouldn’t have sobbed in my arms after I made her mine.
Agony twisted in my gut and I buried my face in her messy hair to calm the pain with a lungful of her scent. She hadn’t wanted this—she’d confirmed as much when she'd said the Norns were behind our mating.
I couldn’t even blame her—of course she didn’t want this. No omega would want a bond with four alphas, four men who pulled her in four different directions, tore at what made her whole, and shattered any sense of individuality she may have had before.
I hadn’t fully understood how fractured she was, how broken, until my bond hooked itself by her heart and I felt the depths of her despair.
I’d never thought I’d regret claiming Annabel, but I did. I’d fantasized of how I’d take her for so long, how I’d ensure she gasped my name with reverence, begged me to put my mark on her.
Seeing Modi on top of her had wiped away any such notions, leaving only the basest of instincts to take.
Just like every other alpha who’d claimed her against her will.
She could never love me like I loved her—and I’d spend eternity living with that knowledge intimately lodged behind my ribs.
Or at least until Odin killed Saga and Magni, and she, Modi, and I all died excruciating deaths alongside them.
Dread sank in past the misery. I’d failed her. I’d failed all of us. It had been my job to convince Loki to help us, and I’d been unable to.
The ache of my father’s betrayal throbbed behind the numbness created by Arni and Magga’s deaths, a nightmare that refused to wane in the light of day.
“Bjarni?” Annabel stirred, her sleepy murmur followed by a hand sliding to my hip. “What’s wrong?”
My anguish must have woken her. I squashed down the thrill of her care. Of course she cared—my pain was hers.
“Nothing,” I lied, reaching out to stroke her cheek. “Go back to sleep, sweetie.”
“I’ve slept long enough,” she muttered, straightening to a seated position. Her movement woke up Modi, whose eyelids fluttered, gaze zeroing in on her the moment he was conscious.
“Annabel?” His voice was thick with sleep.
“We need to get moving,” she said. “Bjarni, did you reach Loki? Does he have a plan?”
“Are you strong enough to move?” Modi asked, frowning as he scanned her pale flesh, eyes resting on her many bruises. “We can afford a few days’ rest, if you need it.”
Such a different tune to what he'd sung before he'd stuck his knot in her. I snorted.
“I’m fine.” There was no patience in Annabel’s voice as she withdrew from both of us to dangle her feet over the edge of the bed, stretching her legs experimentally. “We don’t have time for this protective alpha routine. Bjarni?”
I glanced at Modi. His face tightened, turning stony at her rejection. Poor sod. He probably hated every instinctive urge clamoring to go overbearing alpha on the girl he’d had little patience for before mating her, and she wasn’t having any of it.
“Loki isn’t going to help us,” I said. “We have to find a way to save them on our own.”
“What?” Annabel’s voice broke, either from outrage or shock—possibly both. “His own children are in danger! Did you explain to him that Saga and Grim might die?”
“I did. He doesn’t care.” It was hard to get the words out. My father—my father—didn’t care whether we lived or died, so long as he was safe. “We will get nothing from him, so it's best we spend what time we have left finding another way to free our brothers.”
“We don’t need another way,” Modi growled. “I never expected the traitor to risk his own neck—I came prepared to force his surrender. I suggest you get on board.”
I stared at him. However grateful I was that he didn’t take the opportunity to twist the knife of my father’s refusal to help, after I’d so adamantly claimed he would, it was hard to hold back an eyeroll.
“He’s the God of Mischief," I reminded him. "He’s way too powerful for us to force him to do anything he doesn’t want to—believe me.”
A small, warm hand rested on my leg, sending a jolt of sensation to my ribs. When I looked back, Annabel’s brown eyes locked with mine, glowing with intent.
“There is no other way, and you know it. He may be the God of Mischief, but right now, he’s what stands between us and the lives of those we love. He doesn’t want to help? Fine. We don’t give him a choice. One way or the other, he’s going to get us your brothers back. That I promise you.”
Twenty-One
Annabel
“The only way we stand a chance is if we take him by surprise.”
I looked up at Bjarni as he paced in front of the makeshift board he’d made from scavenged pieces of paper and a broken chair. On it he’d drawn a rough layout of Loki’s location, along with a few scribbled notes. As much as he thought his father wasn’t going to be overcome by our ragtag little group, he’d committed to trying.
Possibly because we all knew that without Loki, we didn’t stand a chance. He might be powerful, but it’d be infinitely easier to beat him than it would Odin and all the forces of Valhalla.
“How will we manage to surprise him?” Modi cut in. “He already knows we’re here. He knows we want to bring him before Odin.”