“Go,” I said.
Bjarni didn’t pause. He barreled across the clearing once more. Loki shot more waves at him, making the air itself shudder, but this time my mate plowed through them as if they were no more than a mere breeze.
Wolves made from shadow sprung at him—five, seven, ten. He cleaved them all with his sword, and my arms felt the swing as if I were wielding the blade myself.
Loki ran, but he wasn’t nearly fast enough. Bjarni was on him before he could make it four steps, falling atop of him like a feral bear.
Loki attempted to evade him, his figure fading to mist, but electricity sparked from Bjarni’s grip, lighting up the God of Mischief and jolting him back into flesh with a scream.
Finally he lay still, his long body sprawled in the snow beneath his son.
“I got you, you traitorous cunt,” Bjarni growled, and I felt his rage as keenly as if it were my own. “God of Mischief? God of Cowards, is more like it. I hope you regret betraying your own blood before Odin takes your head.”
Twenty-Four
Annabel
Modi showed me how to infuse my magic into a length of rope he pulled from the rucksack they’d carried with us from Asgard. It was tricky, my fingers fumbling on the twine and my vision blurring.
Now that the fight was over, the connection between the three of us that had flowed so freely seemed barely there, and I had to focus to keep my rapidly waning power connected with Bjarni so our prisoner didn’t escape before we could tie him up.
“Just a little longer,” the redhead said quietly when my hold on the rope slipped. He steadied me with his grip around my body as well as his presence within my magic.
His sparking power tightened around mine, pulling it into place rather than guiding it now. Not that I minded—with every second that passed, it became harder and harder to think of anything that wasn’t sleep.
Blasted magical drawbacks. It seemed a real inconvenience that any use of it resulted in bone-deep exhaustion. If it weren’t for Modi and Bjarni, I’d be well and truly fucked.
Well, I’d be fucked regardless, because of course sex was the only way to replenish my strength.
God, being an omega sucked.
“Why are you laughing?” Bjarni asked over his shoulder. It came out as a grunt, the only indication that he was expending any strength in holding down his father.
Was I? It took me a moment to realize that the jarring sound pounding in my ears wasn’t my blood—it was the sound of my own deranged chuckling.
I swallowed, killing the inappropriate laugh to refocus on the rope. “Sorry, I’m… really tired.”
Finally Modi managed to wrangle the dying embers of the golden light within me. The rope lit up, then faded, looking like any old measure of twine, but I could sense the dull throb of my powers radiating from it, even if what was left inside me was barely a flicker.
“There we are,” Modi said, his magic sliding from mine and leaving me hollow. “That should keep you from attempting to slither away again before you have faced judgement for your ill-doings.”
He handed the rope to Bjarni with one hand, keeping his other arm wrapped tightly around me—a gesture I was grateful for, because I was pretty sure I’d have faceplanted in the snow without his support.
“Foolish children,” Loki growled as Bjarni tied his wrists behind his back. “You don’t know what you’re doing. I’m not responsible for this mess! I’m just the scapegoat—as usual.”
“Yes, the true mark of a falsely accused man,” Modi drawled. “Running away to hide until it is all over, all the while ensuring you and yours will survive the calamity. Well, I guess you get to be grateful that we are bringing you back so you can prove your innocence to the gods of Asgard.”
“Frankly, Father, I no longer care much if you’re innocent or not,” Bjarni said, his voice rougher than Modi’s as he sat up, yanking the dark-haired god to his knees. “You were going to leave my brothers to their fate after all your talk of the importance of our blood. You can hang, for all I care. Or burn. Or sit in a cage with ravens picking at your flesh—whatever Odin’s got planned for you. You’re already dead to me.”
“Boys, boys.” This time Loki’s voice was gentler—smoother. “You’re taking these unfortunate events much too personally. You wouldn’t truly expect someone with my, ah, history with Asgard to willingly offer my neck, hmm? But clearly things have changed… I am willing to cooperate with you, if you vow to help me escape before Odin shortens me by a head.”
“I think you forget that that was an offer we gave you before you were defeated and bound,” I said, my voice raspier than I’d have liked. Even flanked by two powerful alphas, Loki clearly wasn’t the type of being you wanted to display any sort of weakness to. “We don’t need anything from you now that we can’t take.”
As if on cue, Loki turned to me, his dark eyes shrewd even as he molded his features into one of concern. “Is that true? You look so frail, my daughter. Your magic is all but gone. How are you going to stop Ragnarök from taking everyone you love if capturing me has nearly drained your life essence?”
“That’s not for you to worry about,” I gritted. I would stop it somehow, even though I knew he was right. I’d seen the World Serpent—only one of the heralds of Ragnarök—and deep down I knew I wasn’t nearly powerful enough to take it on. Not even with my mates by my side.
Perhaps it’d been hubris all along. If the gods themselves weren’t strong enough to stop Ragnarök, then what chance did I have, Norn-blessed or not?
The thought that had niggled at me since Verdandi’s cave rose like a mountain in my chest, crushing what little strength I had. Was this all for naught? Were we doomed?
“I can help you,” Loki said softly. “Thor’s son can’t show you how to truly reach your potential—he isn’t experienced enough with the kind of power that lies within you. I am. I can teach you to control it.”
“Stop it!” It was a roar so fierce it shook me out of the daze I hadn’t even realized had settled around me. I looked up at Bjarni’s rage-twisted face just as he pulled an arm back and socked Loki right in the nose.
Blood spattered, and a sickening crunch mixed with the god’s pained wail as he tumbled into the snow, unable to break his fall.
“If I ever catch you using your powers on my mate again, I’ll kill you myself!” my blond giant snarled. He glared down at Loki for a few seconds before he turned to me, his features softening at my confusion.
“Don’t listen to him. His tongue is dipped in poison—he will deceive you first chance he gets.”
I blinked, looking back at Loki as realization dawned. He’d manipulated my insecurities, twisted my fears until his suggestion seemed like the only solution. I had no doubt that if Bjarni hadn’t intervened, I’d have fallen fully under his spell and accepted his offer.
Eyes narrowing, I glared at the God of Mischief. “Nice try.”
He grimaced past the blood running down his face from his broken nose. “You kno’ I‘m righ’. You don’ ‘ave ‘e streng’ do save ‘em.”