Ragnarök Rising: The Omega Prophecy I Page 14

  His footfall retreated out of the glade. Annabel shuffled around for a little while, and I wished I could have lit a fire for her. But my magic was gone. Pulled out of me like marrow sucked from a snapped bone.

  “Why?” she asked.

  I forced my eyelids open again to look at her—the sound of her voice pulling on me like a siren’s call.

  “Why did you get in between me and that… that thing?” she insisted when I didn’t answer.

  Pain pulsed from my arm where the well creature had sunk its teeth into me.

  I’d asked myself why since we left Mimir’s well. As the blight crept up my arm, tainting it cell by cell and twisting the divine helix of my DNA, I thought long and hard about what had possessed me to put myself in harm’s way for Annabel. I’d had other options at my disposal—gods usually did—and if I’d stopped to think about what I was doing, I would have likely chosen a fate that didn’t involve this slow, agonizing torment.

  But that was just it… I hadn’t stopped to think. Seeing her so close to danger, perhaps near death, had filled me with an urgent and insurmountable need to protect her. I’d reacted on some stupid, involuntary instinct, one which left no room for hesitation, and now here I was, weakening with each passing second.

  “Magni?” Annabel said. She was staring at me and had been for some time, her dark hair loosed from its braid and tumbling wild over her shoulders. It had been a tough day and a half since I took her through the portal, filled with arduous treks and near-death experiences, and every bit of that was reflected in the pinched corners of her eyes and the grim set of her lips.

  And still, she was beautiful. Despite the way the wind had beat against her, or how tired she was, Annabel was as radiant as ever.

  It worried me, how difficult it was to dim her shine. I’d been banking on a female more easily broken, one who would accept her fate. I realized now that she was not that girl, but it was too late. She was already mine. We were stuck with each other.

  Which would have been fine—she may be spirited, but I was a god. At my full strength I could break her in fully until the fire in her simmered down to a comfortable warmth. But right now, with my arm throbbing dully and my magic dried in my veins, there was no way I was going to let on how bad it really was.

  She would rebel if she knew—and Saga would take her from me in a heartbeat.

  Still, she was staring at me. Waiting for an answer.

  “You were about to die—or worse,” I reminded her, grimacing as another fissure of pain bloomed beneath my skin. “There is too much at stake to let that happen.”

  “You could have used your magic,” she pointed out, gaze dropping to my arm where I cradled it against my chest. “But you didn’t.”

  I shrugged, turning away. “I might have hit you.”

  “You had no problem shocking me before.”

  “Do you never just accept an answer?” I hissed. “Must everything be a battle?”

  Annabel shrugged. “I spent years in college learning to ask questions and hoping they’d be the right ones—the ones that would get me answers to the things nobody else knew. It is… it was a huge part of my profession.”

  I snored. “A skald.”

  “A historian.”

  This crawling sickness had infiltrated my bones now, setting fire to my marrow. Sweat clung to my temples as I curled in on myself. “I fail to see the difference.”

  “Skalds were storytellers and poets,” she said, inching closer to me and trying to pull my arm into her grasp to inspect it. “They made up stories just as often as they told the truth.”

  “Don’t,” I growled, shifting out of her reach again. “It could be catching.”

  Annabel narrowed her eyes. “It could be killing you.”

  “You think I’m weak?” I asked.

  “I think you’re sick,” she said, withdrawing from me. I grabbed her wrist, my hand encompassing her bones easily.

  “I am not sick,” I growled, ensuring she remained on her knees. “I am as strong as I have ever been. I am still a god, an alpha, and your mate. You will treat me like all of the above.”

  Annabel tried to wrench away, and I thanked the stars I hadn’t been bluffing as much as I’d felt I was. She remained in my grip, twisting futilely. “You’re hurt. You’re clearly in pain—”

  Now I did let her go. She fell back onto her hands, staring up at me with wide eyes. “Must you argue? I saved your life. You admit as much. I know these realms better than you do. I know what fiends lurk in every corner of them. Has it not occurred to you I might be right?”

  But I’d not doused the fire in her yet. Setting her jaw, Annabel sat back up.

  “Except you don’t know what this is,” she reminded me, tugging my arm. It was a dirty move. I was momentarily gobsmacked by the pain, allowing for Annabel to push up my sleeve and survey the damage. Her face paled. “Jesus Christ….”

  Coils black as a cuttlefish’s ink squirmed under my flesh like a feast of worms. Some of them had fattened on what they’d devoured from me and were now swollen to the size of leeches, their undulations so pronounced I was mildly concerned they might break the barrier of my skin. If I tensed my muscles hard enough, I could beat them back, force them to retreat closer to my bones, but when I did, they burrowed into my elbow, misery lancing up into my shoulder and spine.

  All the fight fled from Annabel’s body then, and when she met my gaze, hers was so stricken as to rob me of my own fury. She may as well have kicked me straight in the heart, eyes rounded with fear and what looked to me like actual, genuine concern.

  “I’m….” Her words caught, and she had to clear her throat to free them. “I’m sorry.”

  Tempered now, I muttered, “It’s not your fault.” Snatching my arm back, I hid it from her view. “You couldn’t have known.”

  She nodded, but nothing in her expression made me believe she was convinced. After a glance in the direction Saga had stalked off in, she asked, “What was that thing? What did it want from me? And what did it take from you?”

  I snorted. “Well, it certainly wasn’t Mimir.”

  “I know that,” she sighed at her earnest, exasperated look. “I don’t know what it was. I’ve never encountered anything like it, or heard tales of it. It was… pure darkness. And it wanted your essence. It took… some of mine instead.”

  Annabel stared at my arm for a long moment. Finally, and in a soft voice, she asked, “Will you die, Magni?”

  I eyed her from the corner of my vision. “Do you really think it’s that easy to kill a god?” It shouldn’t have been. We were supposedly immortal, or as good as. Yet I wasn’t healing. The well within where my life force sprung wasn’t refilling, like it always had when I’d been injured in battle before.

  Silence yawned between us once more, opening a gulf neither of us wanted to cross. And why would she? She was tired and far from home. I’d dragged her out here into hostile territory, brought us to the wrong fucking place to begin with, and now I wasn’t sure I could get us to where we were going.

  “You should rest,” I finally said. “Saga will return soon, and once we’ve eaten we press on.”

  “Magni,” she said, exasperation in her voice. “You can barely stand. You might be healing—but it looks like it’ll take a while. And I’m… I’m really tired. We’ve been walking, climbing, and running for hours. Maybe you’ve forgotten, but I’m not a god.”

  I liked the little crinkle she got above her nose when she was irritated with me. I hadn’t noticed it before. There were other parts of her I’d taken stock of—the heavy swells of her breasts; the perfect slope of her waist; the way her hips fit easily in my hands—but that detail had escaped my attention. Now it was all I could look at.

  “I’ll carry you,” I said, but Annabel only rolled her eyes.

  “Not with that arm, you won’t.”

  I reached out, ensnaring her ankle this time. She yelped as I yanked her toward me, turning onto her back and sitting
up so close our noses touched.

  “Do not tell me what I can and cannot do,” I murmured, sliding it toward her knee. “Whatever you come up with, you will be wrong.”

  She flinched from me, face flushed. “I… I was just worried about you.”

  “That’s the second time you’ve called me weak,” I said, grasping her opposite knee with my free hand now and parting her legs. “You should be worried about what might happen to you if you say it a third time.”

  She was so warm between her thighs. It penetrated her breeches, hotter and more inviting than the sun. And her scent—it was thicker than smoke, yet rising just as steadily. Sweet and heady, it curled in my nostrils and bid my cock to attention.

  Annabel gasped as I pressed my thumb to where her clit lay beneath all those clothes. “How is your heat?”

  “It’s… it’s passed,” she stammered, trying to close her legs around me. I tore them open again, increasing the pressure of my thumb until she bit her lip.

  “Really?” I asked her. “No more urges?”

  “No,” she lied through her teeth. When I began to stroke her, she grabbed my hand. “Magni… wait. You don’t have to do this.”

  I paused, lifting my brows at her. “I am doing exactly as I please.”

  But Annabel shook her head. “That’s not what I mean.”

  I searched her face. Something in her tone was… different, enough that it made me hesitate. Slowly, I moved my hands to her hips instead. “Go on.”

  She pushed herself into a more upright position, and though I would not let her go, I allowed her to curl her legs beneath her. “You don’t have to fuck me just to prove you’re not weak. Not to me, and least of all to Saga.”

  “Gods, pet,” I laughed, trying not to show my alarm when it thinned into a wheeze. “You really do think too much.”

  Annabel cupped my cheek. Her palm was… soft. And just as warm as her pussy. She glided her thumb across my skin, tentative but tender, and I found myself rooted to the spot. She’d never touched me like his before—not that I’d given her much of a chance to. It was… disturbing.

  I leaned forward, intent on putting her on her back, but she took my face in both her hands and stopped me again. “Magni… at the well… you saved me.”

  I regarded her again. She was serious. Whatever this was, it wasn’t a mere ploy to stall me. “And that means something to you, does it?”

  “It does.” Slowly, she threaded her fingers into my mane. “You didn’t have to do what you did. You didn’t have to let it hurt you instead.” Swallowing, she added, “You could have let it hurt me.”

  “No,” I told her, and meant it. “I couldn’t.”

  She breathed in deeply and looked up at me, brown gaze searching for something in mine. “Magni… I want to tell you what the Norn showed me. When she separated us.”

  “She showed you your fate,” I said, because it was what made sense. Verdandi was a Norn, after all, and Annabel had seemed less combative about her situation since. “Why your sacrifice is needed.”

  “Yes,” she said. “But not how you think. She said… she tricked you, Magni. You and the Lokisson brothers. She used your instincts against you to make you share a claim with them. She said we cannot fight Ragnarök if we’re not united. And that’s our fate. To stop it. To save everyone—not just your bloodline. Everyone.”

  There was so much passion in her eyes, so much desperation. Her cheeks were still flushed from my manipulation of her clit, and long wisps of brown hair framed her face. And for a moment, I wanted to believe her, just so I could bathe in her shine for a little while longer.

  But I knew the trickery of Norns. What Verdandi had claimed was a rouse for me, was clearly a snare for the annoying little omega in my arms. Her desperation to have agency over her fate was her greatest weakness—and the easiest thing to manipulate. What better way to get Annabel to comply than to tell her her fate was to save the humans she so loved?

  I’d been called many things over the centuries, many of them less than kind, but I wasn’t heartless. And letting Annabel believe that there was any hope for her world, or any need for her besides what lay between her legs would be too cruel. The sooner she accepted her fate, the sooner she would settle into her new life and, eventually, find some measure of contentment.

  I bit down on the pain throbbing through my arm and up my shoulder and forced her back.

  She squeaked from surprise at the unexpected movement, arms flying up to grab my shoulders as I put her on her back and hovered over her, trapping her beneath me.

  “I am your mate, Annabel. I may not be what you wanted, but I am still that. No wishful thinking, no deceitful promises from the Weavers of Fate, and no son of Loki will ever change this. You are my omega, you will sit by my side in Asgard, and you will fulfill your destiny when you birth me a son. That is your fate.” I brought my injured hand to the side of her neck, brushing over my mark. The agony lancing through the injured limb made me hiss, but the throb of desire in my blood at the touch of her skin against mine was unhindered by the pain.

  “Why are you so goddamn stubborn?” she growled, eyes flashing with anger at being put into such a submissive position. “Are you really trying to rape me while your arm is withering away, just to prove how alpha you are?”

  “No, pet,” I growled, showing her my teeth when she dug her fingers into my injured arm but holding fast. “I’m proving to you exactly where your place is, and reminding you how much you like it. I may be injured but I’m not weak. I’m your alpha, and I’ll never stop reminding you. You will come to accept your fate for what it is, Annabel. And I will help you.”

  “Stop it, Magni! I’m not in heat anymore!” she hissed when I snaked a hand between her legs, coming to rest on an elbow to push her resistance down. She was scalding hot, and when I shoved down the front of her pants slickness met my fingers. She might not be in heat, but her body was still responding to my closeness and dominance. I slipped my fingers between her folds to find her clit, biting back on a pained moan when the dark fissures in my arm dug deeper at the flexing of muscles.

  “Magni!” Annabel whined, a breathless sound halfway between protest and pleasure. “Stop! I don’t want this!”

  “You may not want it,” I growled, rubbing the little pearl in firm circles. “But you need it.”

  “Stop being such an idiotic alpha stereotype!” she hissed, swallowing a whimper when I pinched her clit. Her legs kicked in a futile attempt at pushing out from underneath me, but her pelvis canted up for more. “You’re sick! Goddammit, Magni, stop!”

  “I’m. Not. Weak,” I snarled. Without waiting for permission I shoved two fingers into her sheath, stretching her heat. She was damp enough to take it, but not nearly as wet as she’d been the day before—and she responded with a wail.

  When I looked into her beautiful brown gaze again she was no longer glowering at me. Her eyes were wide with shock, understanding finally sparking in their near-golden depths. She got it, now. What she was. An omega—born to serve her alpha. Nothing she could say and nothing she could do would change that.

  “You’re mine,” I growled, desire at seeing her on her back for me and the slick noises I forced from her pussy as I slowly pumped her making my own desire take over. It hazed out even the intense agony, soothing it to a dull throb.

  Odin’s beard, she was beautiful. Small and delicate, plump lips parted for every gasp, and so incredibly soft against my fingers. The perfect omega.

  My perfect omega.

  “I said stop!” The punch came like lightning from a clear sky, smacking against my nose so hard bright lights burst behind my eyes. If I’d been at my full capacity her puny human strength wouldn’t have made me blink, but I wasn’t.

  “Shit!” I groaned, pulling my hand from between her legs to my face. The ripe scent of her body’s desire mixed with the pain from her aggression, fueling instincts as ancient as my blood. I snarled, deep and rich, a threat and a promise to the fei
sty little omega who thought to challenge me, and lowered my hand to see her quiver when she realized her mistake.

  But we weren’t alone in the glade.

  “Well, well, well,” Saga drawled as he watched us on the ground, head cocked. On each side of him stood his brothers, one light, one dark. Weapons were in their hands.

  “I leave you alone with my mate for but a moment and you think you can maul her like a lusty bear? You’re going to regret this, Thor’s son.”

  They are going to take her from me.

  It was the only thought that thundered through my head as I hunched over Annabel’s prone body. The next second, they attacked.

  16

  Annabel

  It was like mountains colliding on top of me.

  The three Lokisson brothers charged at Magni, slamming into him full-force. Above his shoulder a sword gleamed, and I screamed.

  “Stop! You might hurt her!” Saga snarled from somewhere above me. He gripped the sword-slinger by the wrist, staying his hand.

  Someone else kicked Magni square in the side, finally getting him off me. The injured god rolled, groaned on impact, and fought to get back up, but Bjarni planted a heavy boot on his back and shoved him back down on his stomach, raising his axe above his head with a snarl.

  “No! Don’t!” The words were out of my throat before I could even think them, my heart slamming into overdrive. Everything had happened so suddenly, my emotions were still in a tailspin from the softness I’d felt only moments before when I realized just how much Magni had sacrificed to save me, mixed with the fury and disbelief that he’d still rather fuck me into submission than entertain the thought that I was more than a broodmare. But the sharp edge of Bjarni’s axe dulled both my anger and gratitude into nothing as sheer panic burst through my frantic heart.

  “Don’t kill him!” I pleaded, throwing myself on top of the redheaded alpha to shield his body with mine. It wasn’t a conscious choice—it was pure animalistic instinct, a desperation for survival—because every cell in my body understood that if my mate died, I would seize to exist.