Ragnarök Rising Page 9

  “My shoes won’t fit you,” he said, a frown drawing in his eyebrows as he looked at my feet. “Come, sweetling. I’ll carry you.”

  He held out his arms like one might when trying to coax a cat into an embrace, and just as I opened my mouth to shoot him down, a steel band closed around my midriff from behind, hoisting me into the air.

  “If my mate must be swathed in your stench, I will be carrying her,” Magni said from behind me, before he maneuvered me over his shoulder in a fireman carry.

  “If you try to take off with her again,” Saga said, voice low with warning, “even the walls of Asgard won’t be able to protect you.”

  “And what would you suggest we do, then? Stay in Jotunheim and wait for one of them to notice my mark on her neck? Go back to the human world and wait for fucking Ragnarök?” Magni huffed, shifting again so his shoulder dug into my gut. I grunted with discomfort—getting lugged around like a piece of timber was starting to get real old real fast.

  “Our farm is safe,” Saga gritted. “Once she’s mated with all of us, the prophecy says—”

  “The prophecy doesn’t say dick about Midgard being safe, not for her and not for any other human,” Magni countered.

  “And what makes you believe Asgard will be? If we’re going to go with ye old legends, Ragnarök isn’t just destroying the human world. Remember?” Saga said, tone pointed. “Which I’m guessing is why you kidnapped her to begin with.”

  “What prophecy?” I asked, pushing against Magni’s naked back to try and get somewhat upright, in an attempt at regaining just a smidgen of dignity. “And excuse me, but maybe instead of trying to figure out how to hide from this Ragnarök business, you could try to figure out how to stop it? You’re gods! Isn’t your job to protect us humans? It doesn’t matter where you take me, if everyone’s dead. If… if my parents die.”

  In the middle of it all, the confusion and shock of everything that’d happened in the past few hours—and especially since I’d just gotten taken through a portal into another world by a god—panic that had nothing to do with being near-naked in an alien wasteland set in.

  My parents. My home—my world! If what they were saying was true, it was the literal end of the world. Everything I’d loved, everything I’d known, was at the brink of extinction. And here these two idiotic immortals with powers I’d never even known existed were bickering about where to hide with me?

  “There’s no stopping Ragnarök, pet,” Magni said, and for the first time he sounded truly sorry. “Everyone you’ve ever known will die, and there’s nothing I or anyone else can do to stop it. But you will live, Annabel. And because of you, so will many of the gods.”

  “That’s bullshit!” I snarled. “I don’t care what your plans are—I’m not going anywhere with either of you without my parents! If you think I can just leave them behind and go be a meek little broodmare, you’re insane!”

  “You want to save the people who sold you to us in the first place?” Saga said, one blond eyebrow arced.

  “W-what?” The anger and panic churning in my gut fizzled to embers at the look of complete sincerity on his rugged face.

  “Your beloved family—they gave you to us in exchange for gold. A thousand years ago, my father made a trade with your ancestors. They received jewels and gold, enough to last them several generations, and in return they promised the first omega daughter to be born from their bloodline to us.” Saga’s silvery-blue eyes flashed as he stared at me, forcing me to hear every word.

  “You parents didn’t send you on vacation, Annabel. They sent you to us to honor your family’s debt. And in return, we gave them enough riches that they could live out the final days until Ragnarök in wealth and comfort. You owe them nothing. We are your family now. Me and my brothers.”

  It was like a punch to the gut. I hung limply from Magni’s shoulder as every interaction concerning my parents’ “‘family friends from Iceland”’ played for my mind’s eye. They’d urged me to go ever since I came of age, and this time, when I finally went, they’d seemed… panicked, almost. And so relieved when I decided to go.

  He was speaking the truth. How my parents had known I was an omega, and kept it from me, I didn’t know. But knowing what I did now… it was obvious that they’d pushed me to Iceland knowing full well I wouldn’t be coming back.

  “You owe your ancestors nothing, if they made a deal with the trickster god for your life,” Magni said, turning to stare at the bleak skies above us. Everything around us was bleak. The sky was ashen, low clouds stretching between every horizon, threatening snow or rain. Cliffs jutted in the distance like jagged teeth, like the maw of some great beast cleaved open and waiting for the chance to snap shut. When the wind swept between those teeth, it didn’t just howl, it keened. It was a dark lament that reminded me of the storm that had come to the Lokissons’ farm my first night in Iceland.

  The redheaded god’s gaze stopped at the tallest cliff in the distance. It was as black as jet against the unruly skies. “Sonuvabitch.”

  “It couldn’t hurt,” Saga said, eyes also locked on the cliff, though he also sounded somewhat reluctant.

  “You don’t think it’s very convenient my bracelet suddenly takes us to her cave, rather than Asgard?” Magni asked, a frown marring his forehead. “You know how the fucking Norns love to meddle.”

  “What are you even talking about?” I asked, squinting at the rock to try to work out what had the two of them so agitated. Apart from looking particularly grim in the already desolate landscape, I didn’t see anything special about the cliff.

  “That is where the Norn Verdandi brought both our fathers, once upon a time,” Saga said, pointing up toward the top of the cliff.

  “What’s a Norn?” I asked.

  “A weaver of fate,” Magni said, mouth still pulled into a displeased line. “And notoriously incapable of butting out of other people’s business.”

  “Be that as it may, if you were capable, you would have used your bracelet to try to get into Asgard again. Since you haven’t, it’s obvious you’re as stuck here as I am,” Saga said. “And since we can agree that Jotunheim isn’t the best place for a mortal with a god’s claim on her neck to hang around, maybe we should just walk up there and ask what she wants.”

  Magni heaved a deep sigh, his grip around my hips tightening. “Fine. But once she’s confirmed that Annabel is mine, there’s nothing you can do to stop me from taking her to Asgard.”

  “You can try,” Saga said, his fierce smile terrifying rather than comforting. “And you will fail. I was not prepared before, but I am now. You will not get an advantage on me again. And when my brothers find us, you can forget all about taking my mate to Asgard. She belongs with us, and us alone.”

  “And what about what I want?” I growled, anger finally cutting through despair like a hot knife. “You bicker like children over a toy. I am not a thing! I don’t want to go with either of you. I want to go back, to my own world.”

  “You’d die if we let you.” Saga sighed, patient exasperation in his voice. “You don’t want that.”

  “You don’t know what I want!” I snapped.

  “We do.” Magni moved his hand over my back from my hips, brushing over his bite on my neck. “You’re a part of me now, Annabel. I know your every desire, even if you still refuse to accept it. You’re an omega, with an omega’s yearnings. You will bear the offspring of true gods, and once we get to Asgard, you will come to see this as the gift it is.”

  I kneed him in the sternum. Hard.

  The redhead grunted and doubled over, and I stumbled to the ground to the sound of Saga’s peeling laughter. Immediately, the chill bit into the soles of my feet, but I was too angry to care.

  “I will not! I swear it! I will never have your children. I may be an omega, but I was not raised as one and I refuse to accept your archaic views of what I’m supposed to want. You can force me to follow you, but you will never force me to become a glorified broodmare!”


  Magni straightened from his keeled-over position, rising to his full height. Sparks flashed in his eyes, like fissures of lightning behind the green of his irises. It took everything I had not to shrink back from his intimidating figure, but when he spoke, his voice was quiet.

  “I already mated you, omega. If you do not carry my child in your womb now, you will after your next heat. Or the one after that. You may spit and claw as much as you please, but the outcome will be the same: you will give me what I need. You will surrender. And in the end, you will obey.”

  10

  Grim

  “When I get a hold of that low-class thundercunt, I’m breaking his neck,” Bjarni growled as he plodded along next to Dragur.

  Unlike our other brother, it was rare that Bjarni let his temper get a hold of him, but apparently our run-in with Magni’s lightning powers had done the trick. Not that I blamed him—my teeth still smarted like I’d been chewing on tinfoil.

  “We have to find them before you get the pleasure of murdering Thor’s bastard, and if Saga’s still alive he may already have beaten you to it.” I stared into the falling snow. It was hard to make out anything but pure white, but when I squinted I could see the vaguely familiar outline of a rock formation up ahead. “It didn’t look like that portal opened up into Asgard.”

  “It was Jotunheim,” Bjarni said. “The twat went to our domain.”

  “How… curious.” Why Magni hadn’t taken the omega to the gods’ realm I wasn’t sure, but Jotunheim? He wasn’t welcome in the land of the Jotunns, not after his betrayal.

  Ahead, the rock formation grew the nearer we came, until I could finally make out our farm below. Every fence and building was covered in snow, but the hills shielded it somewhat from the worst of the blizzard.

  Two dark birds sat on the roof of the main house, a stark contrast to the powdery landscape.

  “Arni and Magga are here,” I said jutting my chin at the ravens patiently waiting for our return. “Maybe they will have news of our brother.”

  Bjarni lit up—he was much fonder of the birds than I. “And Annabel. Poor thing must be scared out of her mind.”

  I remained silent, driving Draugr down the hill with my knees. I didn’t care about the troublesome omega’s state of mind. I didn’t care much for her at all. But both my brothers did. They’d lost their damn minds the second the girl arrived, sniffing and pawing at her like adolescent alpha pups, and we didn’t have time to argue about her. Again.

  I took a moment to ensure Draugr was well cared for, before I followed Bjarni across the courtyard and in through the front door.

  Our guests were already inside, each perching on one of Bjarni’s sweater-clad shoulders. Magga was cooing excitedly, nuzzling against Bjarni’s neck in a bid for affection. Bjarni, soft as ever, stroked the treacherous bird along the beak and chittered back, much to the raven’s delight.

  “We bring news from Valhalla and beyond,” Arni said, his hoarse voice sounding much like the creaking of rusty hinges. “The omega is in danger—Thor’s son has stolen her to Jotunheim.”

  “We know,” I said, smothering an eye roll at how Bjarni cooed at the flying rat nibbling on his earlobe. They were supposedly messengers of the gods, not obnoxious pets, but you wouldn’t know it from how he treated them.

  They’d been Odin’s, once. Before our father stole them from his rookery and gifted them to his sons. One each for Bjarni and Saga.

  I came later, but there’d been no raven to mark my birth. I preferred horses anyway.

  “What we don’t know is why he didn’t call on Bifrost and take her straight to Asgard.” I crossed my arms over my chest, schooling my impatience into a hard stare.

  “Or where exactly we can find them. Jotunheim is a big place,” Bjarni rumbled, finally pulling his focus from the raven on his shoulder.

  Magga squawked with dismay, pulled on a tuft of his beard as punishment and flapped her wings.

  “The bastard son can’t cross the rainbow bridge without an escort,” Magga crowed. “Daddy hasn’t given him the keys to the kingdom.”

  “Magni’s been with them for centuries. He betrayed his own mother to join Thor. Why would he not be able to access Bifrost?” Bjarni frowned. It didn’t surprise me that my golden-haired brother wouldn’t understand how even a son who’d shown his allegiance by betraying his own mother could be considered an outsider.

  “Odin,” Arni creaked. “The Allfather doesn’t trust him. He crosses the worlds with a dwarf-made bracelet given to him by Thor himself.”

  “He thinks the omega will redeem him,” Magga agreed. “Make Daddy proud.”

  “And where is he now? Where’s Saga?” I asked.

  “Both are with the girl,” Arni crowed. “Headed for Verandi’s peak, last we saw them.”

  “The Norns,” Bjarni muttered. “Why would they…?”

  “Because the omega, who’s supposed to save our entire bloodline, is now mated to both Magni and Saga,” I said, my jaw working despite my best effort to stay calm. “A detail she forgot to mention when the Norn spied our future and told us the only way we’d survive Ragnarök would be if all three of us mated that girl.”

  And if they were headed to Verdandi’s mountain, it was because she wanted them there. Which meant the seer planned this. And why wouldn’t she have? She was a fucking Norn—a weaver of Fate.

  If anyone could have fooled Loki, it would be her.

  “We need to get to them,” Bjarni said. “Norn or no, Saga’s gonna need our help to get rid of that ginger prick.”

  I sighed. Whatever game Verdandi was playing, I was sure she’d interjected Magni into our plans on purpose. She wouldn’t make it easy to get rid of him. But Bjarni was right, our brother needed us.

  “Ooh, time to play with the map?” Magga chirped, flapping her wings with excitement. “Do you even remember how, little godlings?”

  I shot her a glare. “Never you mind, fiend. Go find our brother. We will meet you in Jotunheim.”

  The black bird cawed at me, eyes predatory sharp. “We do not fly on your command, misborn.”

  Hot anger flared in my chest at the hated nickname. It’d been a thousand years, and their shrill voices still felt like claws in fresh wounds.

  Grim the Misborn, they’d called me as a boy. Picking at me, like a swaying carcass in the wind, reminding me every day how I was our father’s biggest regret.

  “You will fly, or you will regret the day you clawed your way out of your shell,” I snarled, clenching my fists to suppress the dark energy within.

  “Oh, not this again,” Bjarni sighed, deftly stepping between me and Magga. He brought a hand up, bopping the female raven over the beak. “Find Saga. Once we are through, lead us to his side.”

  Arni squawked, flapping his wings.

  “As you command, son of Loki,” Magga said. I sneered at her, and clenched my fists at the sound of their mocking laughter as they disappeared up the chimney.

  “They only taunt you because you still give a shit,” Bjarni said. “They’ll keep pecking until you learn to ignore it.”

  I shot my golden-haired brother a glare. “I don’t care about the opinion of flying rats. Now, can we find the damn map before Saga gets himself killed by lightning?”

  Bjarni cocked an eyebrow at me, but thankfully dropped the subject. “Fine.”

  The map was another gift our father had given his sons, besides the stupid ravens. A map over the nine worlds, and the secret passages through them.

  The gods had their rainbow bridge to Midgard, the realm of the humans, and clearly Magni had his magic bracelet, but there was no other official way to cross the fabric of reality. The other realms had different paths between them, but the trickster god had wanted a way to sneak in the backdoor without detection. Our father’d never told us how he’d had the map of the nine worlds crafted, but he’d given it to us when we left for Midgard.

  It was our ticket back.

  Not that I ever wanted to return to Nif
lheim.

  The map lay hidden in the barn, where we kept the few items that betrayed our immortality. Not that any human would understand what they saw if they came across this particular magic relic.

  The effigy still burning low with Jotunn magic from our ritual last night was another matter. I sneered at the horn-crested figure as we entered the barn. Odin’s beard, I hated that thing and everything it stood for.

  I’d been content in Midgard, taking care of our farm and tending to the horses. It’d been the closest to happiness I’d ever known.

  And then she came. And ripped it all away.

  My eyes caught on a strand of dark hair snagged on one of the hay bales closer to the door. Frowning, I crouched down and touched a hand to the faint indents in the scattered straw covering the floor. When I inhaled deeply, I caught just the most delicate whiff of honey and thyme. And omega.

  Annabel.

  “What are you sniffing at?” Bjarni rumbled from behind me as he drew the door shut, shielding the barn from the icy winds.

  “The girl saw us last night,” I said, standing back up again. “She must have witnessed the ritual. I’m guessing that’s why she ran.”

  Bjarni snorted, an amused sound. “Crafty little thing.”

  “I’m not sure why you find it so funny. Because of her, our brother’s in danger, and so are we. You said there was no one else. If we don’t mate her in time….”

  “We die. I know.” Bjarni clapped a massive hand to my shoulder before he made his way further into the barn. “But it won’t come to that. Once we’ve taken care of Magni, we bring her back, wait for her next heat, and then we claim what’s ours. Simple.”

  Simple. Everything always was, for my golden-haired brothers. They thought nothing of taking a mate they hadn’t chosen for themselves, hadn’t even blinked at the prophecy that revealed we had to share an omega if we wished to survive. If we wanted our father to survive.