He felt it as he pushed love into Raven and chased Mórrígan with hatred deeper and deeper, further and further into the abyss, until all snapped shut. Until everything he knew fell away. Until his very soul teetered on the brink of existence.
Then all went very, very dark.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
RAVEN WAS AWARE ofvery little but a shadow in the background clawing to get her as she was dragged backward toward a loving, healing light. Though determined to see through what had to happen, it didn’t matter.
She was being saved against her will and couldn’t figure out why.
How.
Until she opened her eyes to the blinding light of Revna’s dimly lit, storm-ridden cave at the top of Mt. Galdhøpiggen and saw Tor’s dragon lying beside her.
“No,” she choked, her voice hoarse and strangled when she sensed no heartbeat. No longer felt his presence within her mind. “No, no, no.” Miraculously wound free, she crawled to him and touched his scaled cheek. Willed him to wake up. Be alive. “Don’t go, mate. Just don’t.” She shook her head. “Not like this.Pleasenot like this.”
Even as she willed him to come back to her, to live, she knew Tor was gone. Not just to the afterlife but somewhere much further away. Somewhere from which he couldn’t even haunt her. In the end, he had sacrificed himself every bit as much as she had intended to sacrifice herself. When he did, he’d accomplished what most could not.
He had defeated Mórrígan’s spirit.
“What did youdo?” she whimpered, pressing her cheek against his. “This isn’t how I wanted it to go. Wasn’t how it should be.” She couldn’t stop sobbing if she tried. “Our son needed a strong father to show him the way....”
“Yet now he won’t have one,” came a seething, raspy voice. “Nor a mother before I’m done with you, dragon.”
Naturally, it wasn’t quite over yet.
How could it be with such a powerful deity?
While tempted to shift to her dragon and fight what remained of Mórrígan, what fun was there in that? No, right now, Raven wanted to release her rage on the meager mortal shell of her enemy. Wanted blood and lots of it. A final death to her nemesis if it was the last damn thing she did.
Maybe she wasn’t thinking clearly, but it didn’t matter. She stumbled to her feet and slammed into the woman who had made her life hell. Who was, seen clearly when they crashed to the ground together, nothing more than flesh and blood and weak bones now.
A near godless skeleton of what she once was, thanks to Tor.
Godly storms raged in the background as Mórrígan and Raven rolled, punching and kicking each other until they leapt to their feet and circled. Raven got in a few more solid punches, then a swift kick to the goddess’s gut before they circled again. There was nothing more gratifying than landing one last solid punch that made her opponent stumble back and land on her backside. Better yet, easily dodging anything Mórrígan threw at her.
But then, despite stumbling to her feet again, her enemy’s mortal body wasn't doing so well.
