“He won’t expect me to come back,” Bjarni said, and the bitter twinge in his voice made me look closer at him.
I hadn’t taken any time to ponder what it had been like for him to go to his father and be denied. I’d been too wrapped up in my own misery at the painful new bonds thrashing in my chest like warring serpents.
I’d never considered that the pain I felt throbbing through me from Bjarni’s tie was more than his regret over claiming me—I’d been too focused on the agony our connection caused us to think about what he’d endured.
Part of me wanted to go to him—to offer him what comfort I could.
I stayed seated on the floor.
There was too much there—too much turmoil, too much festering contagion—and I knew if I poked a hole in the fragile scab I’d managed to form since waking between my two new mates, it’d all come pouring out. The hurt, the resentment… the regret.
And I… I couldn’t face it. Not now. Not when everything hinged on all of us keeping it together so we had at least a chance to save Saga, Magni, and Grim.
Once Saga and Magni were safe, there would be a time to deal with the bitter emptiness of confronting the fact that two of the men fated to be mine regretted their claims. Until then, I couldn’t offer any more of myself to either man, no matter how much my stupid, frayed heart panged to ease the pain radiating through both newly carved bonds.
“The difficult part will be to sneak up on him without alerting him of our presence. And, of course, to capture him. My father is… very strong,” Bjarni finished, his gaze flickering to Modi. “We’ll need magic. But be cautious. He sensed Annabel searching for him.”
Modi nodded, folding his massive arms over his wide chest. “I think that can be done. I can guide her power. Stealth is not my wheelhouse, but Anna’s abilities should be able to conceal mine. The biggest problem will be to capture him and contain him until we reach Valhalla.”
Anna.
I glanced at the redhead, forcing down the jab in my chest at that particular pet name. It was what my parents called me, my friends. It’d slipped from his lips so effortlessly I doubted he’d even noticed. I knew he felt anything but friendly toward me; our aching bond betrayed as much.
Can’t think about that now.
There was no happy ending for me and Modi. There was no happy ending for any of us. I’d finally realized that when I'd awakened between him and Bjarni, every cell in my body throbbing with the ache in the four bonds splitting me into pieces.
There was a reason omegas didn’t mate more than one alpha.
For a moment there, after Saga and Magni had united inside of me, I’d thought I’d be able to reconcile the two bonds. That perhaps once everything had settled down, I’d be able to find happiness with the five men destined to be mine.
But no woman was capable of holding five mating bonds within her, not even one blessed by Norns. In the end, there would only be pain.
It didn’t matter. So long as we lived, so long as we stopped Ragnarök, my mates could resent me, could regret caving to Fate. I was strong enough to endure until we were all safe again.
I had to be.
“I don’t suppose there’s any way we can reach Thor and convince him to help?” I asked, looking at Modi. “I know he was adamant you bring Loki back, but is there a chance he’ll come? It’s his son’s life on the line too.”
A look I couldn’t decipher flickered over Modi’s features “No. He has tasked me with this. He is busy preparing to meet the Jotunn hordes, and nothing will deter him from his destiny. He has been preparing for that battle for a long time.”
I blinked. What was it with gods making shitty parents?
The tiniest thread of a thought sparked and I pressed a hand to my abdomen, swallowing hard. Hopefully it wasn’t all gods who’d abandon their offspring in their time of need.
It was insane, really—that I’d fucked multiple alphas while lost in heat, and the thought of pregnancy hadn’t really entered my mind until then. I’d been lucky thus far, but who knew how long that would last?
How many gods does it take to knock up an omega?
Don’t think about that now.
I forced down a hysterical urge to giggle—or cry. No one cared if I ended up pregnant, not with the end of the world looming. I shouldn’t either.
Focus, Anna. Focus.
“Right. It’s just us. Then we’ll make it work. What’re Loki’s weaknesses?” I looked back to Bjarni. “Something we can exploit?”
The big alpha snorted. “Weaknesses? He has none.”
“Everyone has a weakness,” I said, rubbing my temples as I tried to conjure up any knowledge I had on the God of Mischief. “Does he have anything or anybody he cares about that we can leverage?”
Bjarni worked his jaw. When he answered, bitterness colored his voice. “No. He only cares for his own life.”
“So he’s selfish,” I mumbled. “Self-serving. He will only cave if it’s the best way to ensure his own survival.”
“Pretty much,” Bjarni said.
“Color me unsurprised,” Modi muttered, earning a glare from the blond giant.
“Brute force it is, then,” I said before the two of them could get at each other’s throats. “Show him we are strong enough to kill him if he doesn’t comply—and offer a carrot on the other end. He undoubtedly knows what plans Odin has for him. If we can somehow offer him an escape hatch once we reach Valhalla and your brothers are safe, he should be… persuadable to see things from our side.”
“It’s got merit,” Modi said, and if I wasn’t entirely mistaken, there was a drop of admiration in his voice. “But the question is how to convince him we are strong enough to kill him if he doesn’t back down.”
I looked from him to Bjarni. “Are we? Strong enough?”
“Perhaps,” the blond said, his voice uncharacteristically somber. “There is one way in which we have and advantage: He has no allegiance with anyone but himself. He is alone. We… We are not. If the three of us combine our strengths, we might have a shot.”
Twenty-Two
Modi
“Why did it take you two days to get here when the feather duster led you?” I grumbled as Bjarni turned off the road and walked toward the thick woods. “Even with a human in tow, it has been, what, sixteen hours? I presume your coward of a sire is hiding somewhere in the woods?”
Said human huffed behind me, but the irritation I felt in our bond at my words remained unvoiced. She was too exhausted from our sixteen-hour walk to argue. Not a terrible quality in a woman, in my opinion.
“His name was Arni,” Bjarni said, his voice acrid. “I suspect Loki wanted to throw off any pursuers—he had us take the scenic route.”
“Arni? Who names a raven Eagle?” I muttered.
“Was?” Annabel asked, her voice turning soft. She pushed forward a couple of steps, placing a hand on Bjarni’s arm. “His name was Arni?”
Bjarni hesitated, but his steps slowed, allowing the omega to keep pace. “Yes. Was,” he finally bit out. “Loki saw Magni's claim on you as a failure of mine and my brothers. He killed Arni and Magga as punishment for our shortcomings, and as a reminder not to fail him again.”