We’re astride Ruxi, and I’m stuck between pleasure and torment. Literally. When we decided how we would mount the beast, Wrath popped his snout from his hole to growl at meas soon as our skjaldmær suggested she sit between the weasel and me. My hand flew to Svend’s throat before he’d finished a single nod of his head, striding forward to pin him to the wall as my body vibrated in fury. Finaan yanked me away from him—even forcing me to apologize, which I had to concede was his due—and we chose different positions.
Now, my skjaldmær is nestled in my arms, her voluptuous ass pressed against the cock that’s as confused as the rest of me. Because every time she moves and it responds, the elf at my back shifts, sending ice to slither through my veins. And then the squirrel bounces around, his tail slamming me in the face or tickling my ear, and my cock forgets that it ever knew how to rise.
I should have killed both of them when I had a chance. This ride on my beast, the only one I’ll ever have, would be perfect if Finaan and I were alone. I’m more content than I thought possible. Certainly more than I deserve. I’ve craved this kind of connection, my mate in my arms willingly, for as long as I can recall.
Still, I’m glad I didn’t take their lives.
She’ll need their support when I die. It pleases me that she’ll have it.
I don’t know how long we’ve flown when the dragon drops into my head again.
I tire, they tell me.We’ve gone far enough. If we stop to rest and eat here, we’ll reach the others tomorrow.
Can you make it the entire way without rest?I’d prefer not to stop. I think they underestimate Garmr’s ingenuity and resolve. But if they need to stop, we will.
I cannot. Their voice is tired, and their wings have slowed over the last hour or so. They won’t make it.
Choose a cavern, then. You can sleep. I’ll watch for the dog.
You also need rest. They sound concerned for me, and I hold back my laugh.
I’ll sleep when I’m dead, I mutter. Until then, I’ll cling to every bit of life I can.
It doesn’t take long to find a place to rest. Within ten minutes or so, we’re spiraling down and unpacking for the night. We don’t lay down right away, though. Instead, Finaan harasses us all until we’re sitting in a circle. She wants Ruxi to tell me what they know so that everyone has a better idea what to expect before we reach the dragons.
I’m to serve as an intermediary, I tell the purple beast when we’re settled.What do the fates have planned?
The dragon watches me in silence for a moment, then dips their chin and starts their tale. I pause them every few seconds to repeat what they say to the others, and we ask a few questions, but otherwise they tell the story as they choose.
You know that Ragnarök split the world but didn’t cause the destruction the Norns predicted?
It’s a question, so I nod—as do the others when I’ve shared their words—and Ruxi continues.
The Norns helped the worlds prepare for that momentous event, spinning their weaves and placing the players where they might best serve the tree, which ever favored the gods. And they did well. The gods prevailed over the jötnar, subduing the giants and all who fought beside them.
“Including the chaos god?” Glow asks when I relay Ruxi’s words.
Including Loki, the father of the monsters who have ailed and wronged the elves. He believed the jötnar would win. He threw himself and his brood behind them, and they continue to support the jötnar. Hel does whatever she can from her dark world, and the serpent and the wolves cause havoc everywhere they go. It’s why the worlds haven’t found their balance in the wake of Ragnarök.
“Does the chaos god still live?” Glow asks, her voice subdued.
He will outlive all of us, Ruxi predicts, their words pensive and sadder than I’d expect.But little else would serve theseworlds so well. The serpent and the wolves curry your mistress’s favor, they say as they turn to me,because their father demands it. If he died, his spawn would serve none but themselves. Hel’s brothers would abandon her at last, limiting her reach to her accursed realm.
“And what has Loki been doing since Ragnarök?” Finaan asks. “Sifa told us about him and his efforts to steal her from Vanaheim and return her to the worlds she came from. Has he interfered here too?” Glow grumbles beside her, prompting my skjaldmær to reach out and caress her head, adding, “Other than what he did to Glow?”
The chaos god has created trouble across these worlds. And he will continue unless we can stop him.
“What could we possibly do?” Svend demands, looking at the motley group assembled here. “We stand no chance against Loki. He’ll kill us all.”
“Are you mine, weasel?” I grunt as I spin my head to glare at him. “Do I have your loyalty?”
His eyes blow wide, bigger than I’ve ever seen them, and his chin dips to his chest. “Always, master.”
“Will that loyalty survive my return to Helheim, even my death?” My tone tells him exactly what I need him to say, and what the penalty will be if he doesn’t. I have no interest in exacting it. I no longer crave his pain or blood. But it doesn’t matter. He must swear himself to Finaan. She’ll need all the allies she can get.
“I’m your loyal servant until my death,” he blubbers, staring at the ground between us. But then he nods, almost to himself,and lifts his gaze. “I will do all that you command, whether you live or not.”
“Then this is your fight too. Your gift is more valuable than you realize. If you can offer anything to defeat Loki and protect Finaan and her beast…”
