It was a lot easier to ignore the chill of the god’s words when he sounded like a fifth-grader with a cold. Looking away from him, I leaned into Modi.
“Let’s make camp for the day. I have to rest. Tomorrow we bring this asshole to Valhalla and get your brothers back.”
It wasn’t just rest I needed—Modi and Bjarni knew that as well as I did—but I wasn’t about to admit what else I required in front of Loki. Not that he wouldn’t be able to hear it, seeing as there was only a tent wall separating us.
“Here, sweetie. It’s not the feast a warrior deserves after taking down an enemy as magnificent as the God of Mischief, but at least it’s warm.”
I looked up at Bjarni as he pushed through the tent flap carrying two steaming bowls of something that smelled delicious.
“A warrior, eh?” I said, eagerly grabbing one of the bowls. It contained a meaty stew. Leave it to Bjarni to conjure up a beautiful meal in the middle of the woods during a blizzard.
“You’re a warrior if I ever saw one, Annabel,” he said softly as he sat down in front of me with his own bowl, legs crossed. “We could never have captured my father if you hadn’t been here. What you did today is no small feat.”
“I didn’t do it alone,” I reminded him, blowing on a spoonful of stew. “I couldn’t have done it without you and Modi. I don’t know what happened out there, but…”
“But it wouldn’t have happened without you,” he interrupted, blond eyebrows pulling into an uncharacteristic frown. “I don’t really understand magic, but I do know that thing came from you. Even the, ugh, connection between Modi and I ran through you. Through our bonds to you.”
“You think?” I asked before finally shoveling the first spoonful of food into my mouth. It exploded in flavor and comforting warmth on my tongue, and I closed my eyes to savor it.
“I know. Our bond is the one thing that isn’t complicated to me,” he said, his voice still quiet. “Everything else around us, yes. But not this.”
I opened my eyes again to look at him, the memory of his regret at claiming me flickering in my chest. “How can you say that when you wish you’d never created it?”
The words escaped me before I could bite them back, bitterness tingeing my voice. A stab of agony flared through that bond, and guilt instantly made me regret saying anything.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. I don’t blame you. Either of you. This wasn’t what any of us wanted.”
“It was what I wanted,” he said, his voice rougher than I’d expected. He pressed his free hand to his heart. “I wanted our bond and everything that came with it. I wanted you to love me like I love you.
"Yes, I wish I’d never claimed you, because the agony of knowing that my mate hates our bond? Wouldn’t have chosen me if she’d had a choice? Knowing you’ll never love me? It’s fucking unbearable!”
He threw the bowl to the ground with a clatter, stew sloshing out to stain the fur bedding before burying his face in both hands with a groan.
“That’s… That’s why you regret claiming me?” I asked. “Because you think I wouldn’t choose you willingly?”
“I know you wouldn’t,” he groaned without looking up. “I feel every ounce of your despair. You fucking cried after I claimed you. You told us that you wouldn’t have done this if you’d had a choice.”
“Bjarni…” I put down my own bowl of food and rolled up on my knees so I could touch his bicep. “I cried because your claim… it showed me how fucked up everything else is. It felt… so right. Like we’re two pieces of a puzzle. And I… I feel so much for all four of you, I’m… I’m a part of all four of you, and it’s tearing me to pieces.
"I didn’t want Magni to claim me. I didn’t want Saga to claim me. But they did, and it was painful—is painful. Like they forced their way into my heart, and it’s rough and violent and I miss them. All the time, every second of every day, I feel incomplete without them. Like I’m missing two limbs.
“And then there is Modi. Modi…” I swallowed thickly, the pain of that bond still too raw to prod at. “Modi doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want me. With you, for a moment, it felt… so easy. So perfect. I was happy. And I finally understood what a mating bond is supposed to be like. It’s supposed to be pleasure and love and comfort.
“I cried because I realized that I will never be whole like I was in that one moment with you. Because I can never be whole again. No, I wouldn’t have chosen to be pulled apart by five alphas who are only with me because Fate has decreed it so. But… I would have chosen you.”
He looked up at me then, the emotion in his eyes so intense it took my breath away. “Do you mean that? Had Ragnarök not been here, had no Norns interfered, would you still have been mine?”
I pushed down the anguish of imagining a world where three of my mates weren’t a part of me and looked into my blond alpha’s eyes. My sweet one, the one who went out of his way to comfort me, cook for me, dote on me, even with the world in turmoil and our bond in tatters. The one who loved me simply because he did.
“Yes, I would."
His eyes crinkled at the corners, a fine web of happiness amidst the anguish. With a rumbling grunt, he moved to clasp my nape in one big hand, pulling me up and in until our foreheads touched.
“That’s enough. I don’t need anything more than that.”
“It feels so easy with you,” I murmured, reaching up to wipe at the tears trickling down my cheeks. “I wish I could give you the same comfort you give me, but I am… so broken. I don’t think I can give any of you much of anything, but I wish… I wish I could.”
“You do,” he said, moving to ghost his lips over my brow and pull me into his lap, enveloping me in warmth and woolly, hay-scented comfort. Even now, thousands of miles from his farm in Iceland, Bjarni smelled like the land he’d lived on and the air he’d breathed while he'd waited for Ragnarök.
And for me.
“I lost Arni and Magga. I lost my father. I thought I’d lost my brothers too. I would have, if it hadn’t been for you. When I hold you like this, it’s as if everything hurts a little less. As if there’ll always be hope so long as you’re with me. I love you, Annabel. And one day, when there is peace in your heart, you’ll love me too.”
“What if there’ll never be peace?” I asked, looking up at him through my tears. I wanted so badly for him to make everything all right like my stupid instincts were clamoring for him to do. “What if I’ll always be this broken thing?”
“You won’t,” he said, his soft voice taking on a core of steel. “This I swear to you, Annabel. I will help you find peace. I will be your comfort when everything’s painful and complicated. You’re not alone, my mate. I’m right here—and I’ll make sure that by the end, you will know happiness.”
I fell into him, pressing my lips to his with a desperation I hadn’t known I possessed. I wanted everything he promised me, wanted to believe that he’d be able to keep his word.