"Fen? What is it?" Astrid's voice pulls me from my thoughts.
I return to her side, the pendant warm in my palm. "My grandmother left this for you."
I step behind her, carefully brushing her hair aside. Then fasten the silver chain around her neck. The small pendant settles perfectly at the hollow of her throat.
"What's this?" she asks, touching it curiously.
"My family sigil. The moonstone is from Asgard's sacred caves." I pause, watching how the stone seems to brighten against her skin. "It contains protective magick that will shield you from the influence of siren songs."
Her fingers trace the pendant's smooth surface, eyes narrowing with that tactical assessment I've come to recognize. Always the soldier, evaluating advantages and weaknesses.
"Siren songs? So Nimue could... what? Control me?" Her jaw tightens.
I take her hand in mine, my thumb brushing over her knuckles. "Certain sirens are more capable than others," I explain carefully. "But yes, Nimue could easily manipulate your thoughts, emotions, and actions."
Astrid's shoulders square, chin lifting defiantly. "And this prevents that?" She lifts the pendant, studying it with new intensity.
"Completely."
"Why doesn't everyone wear it, then?" Her eyes meet mine, sharp and questioning.
"The stones are very rare." I reach out to touch the pendant, feeling its familiar energy pulse beneath my fingertip. "This particular one is one of my grandmother’s favorites."
Her eyes widen. "Your grandmother's?" Her voice drops to nearly a whisper. "And she gave it to me?"
"She did."
Astrid's fingers close around the pendant protectively, a flush spreading across her cheeks. "So this is a significant gift."
"Very," I say, watching the emotions play across her face—surprise, honor, and beneath it all, a flicker of fear.
I cup her face in my hands, making her look at me. "It means you belong here, Astrid. Not just with me, but with all of us."
A shaky breath escapes her. "No pressure or anything," she mutters, but the corner of her mouth lifts in a half-smile.
"Ready?" I ask, offering my arm.
She takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. "As I'll ever be." She takes my arm, her grip firm. "Let's go meet this Siren Queen."
CHAPTER 42
I Thought You Were Dead
* * *
Astrid Mathieson
The dining hall of Odingard stretches before us like something from a medieval fantasy film—if that film had an unlimited special effects budget. Golden light spills from crystal fixtures that seem to float without support. The long table gleams with plates and goblets that might actually be made of solid gold, and tapestries depicting epic battles line walls that soar upward to a ceiling painted with constellations I don't recognize.
I straighten the silver-gray gown Frigga provided, grateful for the practical leggings and boots beneath that allow me to still move easily. The pendant Frigga left for me, his family's moonstone wolf sigil, rests cool against my skin. Armor again siren songs. There are so many new dangers in Fen’s world.
"Remember," Fen murmurs as we approach the table where three figures await, "Nimue has been waiting hours. She'll be irritated, but that was Grandmother's intention."
"Strategic delay," I reply with a slight smile. "I work—worked—for a government agency. I understand power moves."
His hand brushes against mine briefly, a subtle show of support. I square my shoulders and match his stride, determined to face whatever comes next with the same composure I'd bring to a high-stakes operation.
Odin sits at the head of the table, his silver-streaked beard and imposing presence making him unmistakable even without the eyepatch. Frigga, looking regal in a gown of midnight blue, sits to his right. And on his left—Nimue.
