We continued through the dark halls, the rough stone dimly lit with flickering torches. It looked like a medieval castle in here, built of rough stone and low arches.
“Do you think the Norns died in Ragnarok?” I asked after a few moments of silence.
Thyra shrugged. “Maybe. I couldn’t say. But without them, fate would no longer exist. So probably not.”
I took a deep breath. Everything hinged on what I had to say next. “Hypothetically, if they were still alive, do you think someone could change the fate the Norns wove for them?”
Thyra gave me a long look. “Why the sudden interest in the Norns?”
“I was just curious.”
“I doubt it. Like I said, no one has ever seen one—”
“Miss,” the servant interrupted. “This is your room.” He was looking directly at me, gesturing for me to enter.
As the servant unlocked the door, I turned again to Thyra. “Will you be alright on your own? I can accompany you to your quarters.”
“I’ll be fine,” said Thyra. “Gorm wouldn’t dare hurt me. I’ll be perfectly safe.”
Good to know. “Well, don’t hesitate to stop by if you need anything.”
As Thyra and the guard disappeared down the hallway, I pushed open the door to my room.
It was larger than I expected. It wasn’t just a room, but an entire suite. I stood in a central living room with an oak table and sofas, but I could see a bedroom on one side and a private bathroom on the other. The walls were made of white stone, and an ornate carpet was spread out over the floor. Multi-paned windows overlooked the frozen city.
I poked my head into the bathroom. There was a sink, a tall mirror, and a clawfoot tub in the center. Finally, I crossed to the bedroom. I found a bed draped with red velvet curtains, and the same sleek stone walls. A tapestry depicting the goddess Freyja with long golden hair hung above a small hearth.
I also found that someone had delivered my things. Not that I’d brought very much, just a few changes of clothes and my gear, including my crossbow and collection of magical bolts. Everything was neatly arranged on a mahogany dresser.
I didn’t think I’d held my crossbow since I’d first tried to steal Galin’s ring. Picking it up, I checked the tautness of the string. Then, I inspected the bolts. Everything seemed to be as I remembered: anti-hex bolts, smoke bolts, and of course, a small quiver of eitr bolts.
I held up one of the eitr bolts, careful not to touch the tip. Eitr bolts were exceptionally lethal. In fact, one eitr bolt contained enough venom to kill five hundred elves. Even a grazing of the skin was enough to induce a permanent coma.
Putting the bolts down, I kicked off my shoes.
Thyra hadn’t known anything about the Norns. And I’d been to the bottom of the Well of Wyrd myself. There hadn’t been any old hags weaving fates or casting souls among Yggdrasill’s roots. Just a pile of bones and a massive bloodthirsty squirrel. Was any of it real—my destiny?
I peeled off the rest of my clothes, then dropped onto my bed, hoping for sleep. But whenever I closed my eyes, Galin’s face rose in my mind—his sensual mouth, his masculine jaw, his eyes the palest gold. His sly smile as he looked at me—the arrogance of someone who believed he’d one day be king.
I needed to get him out of my head.
Rising, I stalked to the bathroom, then stripped out of my bra and underwear and started filling the bath. When the tub was full and steaming, I slipped in, groaning softly as the hot water enveloped me.
I closed my eyes, allowing the heat to loosen my muscles. This was exactly what I’d needed. In the Shadow Caverns, we didn’t have luxuries like tubs or showers. If we wanted to bathe, we had to boil water in buckets.
Picking up a purple bar of soap from the foot of the tub, I began to scrub at the dirt on my arms, tracing from my shoulders to my wrists. Lavender, I decided, was my new favorite scent.
I spread lather onto my shoulders, cleaning my neck and behind my ears. Soapy rivulets trickled between my breasts. I slipped back into the water, up to my neck, and rubbed at my chest to get the grime off.
I never want to leave this tub.
Once again, Galin’s stupidly beautiful face rose in the hollows of my mind, and my pulse started to race. I would absolutely not think about how his body looked, about his golden skin stretched over taut muscles. And I would not imagine that subtle curve of his lips, or his cheekbones carved by the gods.
It wasn’t my fault. How many years had it been since I’d been with a man? Two, three? The last time had been a drunk fling with a Night Elf named Sven. He was cute, but it had lasted a few minutes max.
I floated in the deliciously warm tub, the water lapping at my breasts. As I closed my eyes, I started to drift into a dream—one where Galin was in the tub with me, our bodies intertwined, sliding against each other. A low, appreciative growl escaped his throat, the sound trembling over my naked skin. My breath sped up, and I pressed against his body, reveling in the feel of pure steel under the soft skin. Warmth swooped into my belly, and I melted against him.
It was only Galin and me, our mouths open, tongues brushing, his hands caressing my ass, strong arms wrapped around me …
My eyes snapped open, and I found that my hand was starting to slide between my thighs.
I leapt up. Nope. Nope. Not happening.
Fucking Wyrd.
I jumped out of the tub, dripping wet. Nearly slipping on the bathroom tiles, I spun, Skalei suddenly tight in my fist … but I had no idea what I was trying to attack. My own traitorous thoughts? Obviously, the tub was empty, because I was alone.
Naked and shivering, I thrashed around the bathroom, unclear on who I was angry at. Galin? The Norns? Myself for no longer having a purpose in my life?
And where the fuck was a bath towel?
At last, I found one folded neatly beneath the sink and wrapped it around me.
Then, I flung open the door just in time to see a portal expand. Magic crackled, and before I could move, the real Galin stepped casually into my room.
Chapter 22
Galin
Water dripped from her silver hair, along her shoulders, down the curves of her breasts peeking above the towel. She looked like a nymph fresh from a deep forest pool. For an instant, I imagined what her legs might look like wrapped around my hips, like they had been on the battlefield.
I smelled lavender—and something more. A feral scent I couldn’t place. My body stiffened.
With effort, I pulled my eyes away from Ali so I could concentrate. I looked to the window. “Sorry for the intrusion, but we need to talk.’
“You could have knocked,” she shot back, “and come in the door like a normal person.”
“That would have been a bad idea, obviously. I’ll leave after we talk.”
“Fine. Give me a minute.” She stalked past me, toward the bedroom.
While she dressed, I crossed to a small mahogany table of tumblers and liquor and poured myself a whiskey. I let the smoky flavor roll over my tongue, wishing I could be alone in this room with Ali under very different circumstances.
When she returned, she was dressed in her usual black leather. She looked exhausted. “What do you need?”
“Your help stealing back Loki’s wand.”
“Again? We already did that.”