I bit back the reflexive irritation.
Being five foot two with generous curves meant I’d endured more than my fair share of commentary.
My personal favorite? You’d be so pretty if you lost weight.
That one always made me roll my eyes.
Fact, I was already pretty.
And I happened to like my body, fuck you very much.
The security officer cleared his throat and gestured toward the deeper trail.
“Storm’s rolling in. Best not linger.”
“Thanks,” I said, dragging my wheeled suitcase over uneven gravel.
He wasn’t wrong.
Rain was coming.
I could feel it in my bones.
As I walked deeper into the woods, the air shifted.
Quieter.
Thicker.
Like stepping into a room mid-conversation.
I checked my phone—no service.
Figures.
The trees thinned ahead, revealing an odd shimmer between two ancient oaks. Like heat rising off asphalt.
But colder.
My heart skipped.
This was it.
The portal.
The threshold between worlds.
New Jersey on one side.
Asgarheim on the other.
“You’ll deal, Serena,” I muttered.
I stepped through.
The air snapped like stretched wire breaking.
Cold hit me first.
