I feel Wregen’s fury at the jötunn’s words, his red-hot resolve to destroy anyone who’d lay hands on me. It burns nearly as hot as mine. The blade is out of my hands, flinging through the air, before I’ve taken a moment to consider whether I should be the one to attack first.
But they started it. The agony in my leg hasn’t abated a bit, and I’m not sure how I’m still standing. While I am, though, I’ll take as many of them down as I can.
The asshole’s big mouth is wide open when the knife lands in the center of his throat. He grasps for it, shock in his eyes evident even from here, and gurgles something that might have been a command. The others don’t need his direction. They pull back on their strings and loose arrows at Wregen and me.
He shoves me aside, grunting as one of the arrows pierces his arm, and rolls me in time to avoid the shaft still sticking out of my leg. “Sorry about this,” he mutters as he grabs the torture device and breaks it in two, leaving enough to dig out of me if I’m still alive later.
The scream rips up from the bottom of my soul, shivering my teeth as it pushes its way out of me. I almost wish they’d kill the bastard, because he needs to suffer for what he did to me. My body shakes as if I’m in a fierce storm, and it takes every ounce of strength I can muster to stop from curling in on myself and escaping the torment pounding through my bones.
“Svend can put you to sleep and get it out when we’re done,” he says. “Don’t die. I’ll be angry if you join me in Helheim before you’ve lived many more centuries in the sun,” he adds with a wink, his eyes dark and bright. And then he pushes himself up to stand above me.
That felt so much like a goodbye, my fury settles for a moment as I realize that might be exactly what it was.
I hate him, but I’m not sure if I can live without him. Which pisses me off even more.
“Don’t you dare leave me, Wregen,” I grunt through my clenched teeth. “We’re not done.”
He shakes his head once but doesn’t answer right away, and I get it. None of us will go easily to our deaths. But then he shakes his head again. “Stay put,” he mutters and turns to throw himself into the fight.
I watch him go, trying to convince myself that he can survive this, even with Wrath bound inside him. My leg is shaking somuch, I’m not sure if it will ever stop, but he was right to break off the arrow. I couldn’t risk doing more damage if the tip got shoved in deeper or jostled around. The pain has settled into a steady throb, and I’m more clearheaded than I was. If the others have any hope of beating back the jötnar and Garmr, they’ll need my help.
Shoving myself to my feet, I take a second to look around and figure out where I’m needed.
Everywhere. They’re losing everywhere.
Garmr is fighting Ruxi and Glow, and I don’t think they can beat him. They’re dripping blood and tears, Ruxi’s feathers scattered around like a blanket ripped to shreds. I nearly throw myself at them, but before I can, one of the jötnar takes my choice away.
He aims an arrow at my chest, sending me spiraling sideways and to the ground. As I struggle to get up, he runs toward me, dragging his enormous sword from the sheath on his back. I’m barely on my feet, my injured leg almost useless, when he swings his blade at my neck.
But I’m still a gods-damned good fighter.
I crouch to evade the sword—and fuuuuuuck me, that hurts—then punch the dick that this fool left wide open and unprotected when he swung. He stumbles backward and I push myself up, ignoring the inferno raging in my leg. I’ve only got a knife, and I wish to all the gods that my sword wasn’t on the other side of the cave, but at least it has a keen blade. Shoving it into his gut in that moment before he gets his shit together, I twist and drag it up his torso.
He doesn’t realize at first that I’ve killed him. Wide, red-rimmed eyes look at me in shock, and then cant down to stare at the guts spilling from his belly.
I can’t hold back my laugh. “That’s what you get for attacking us,” I grunt as I shove him onto his back and turn toward the fight.
We’re so fucked. Ruxi and Glow are losing and I don’t know if I can help, but myneedto protect Panta’s draikani is so fierce, so unchecked, that I move in their direction.
Then I see Wregen, and my steps shift before I even think about it. Seven or eight jötnar surround him, and he’s fighting for the life he’s determined to abandon.
I don’t want him. I’ll never be able to trust him. But I can’t let him die.
Before I can reach him, though, one of his attackers glances back and sees me, a hungry grin splitting his cheeks. He mumbles something to the male next to him and stalks in my direction, sword raised in front of his face, blocking me from flinging a knife toward his neck. Laughing as he draws closer, he stops just out of my reach.
“I won’t kill you yet,” he declares as if he’s already won. “You’ll be a tasty offering for our gods.”
“Try me,” I hiss.
He laughs and flings his sword out toward my bad leg, aiming for the piece of arrow that’s still jutting from my flesh. Gritting my teeth, I shove myself in the other direction, landing on my back and shifting my leg so I can roll without embedding the tip even further into the bone. Taking one moredeep breath as I steel myself for the agony that’s about to ripple through me, I twist again, barely avoiding the blade hurtling toward my neck, and fling myself to his rear.
Before he can spin and shove his sword into my gut, I slice the tendons at his ankles and then throw myself to the side. I’m not fast enough, though. He topples over, landing on the shaft still protruding from my leg. He’s screaming, a mix of rage and pain that bounces off the stone around us, but I think my roar of agony is even louder.
Everyone turns to look at us.
Even Wregen.
Well, everyone except the fighter still focused on the male they’re desperate to subdue and carry back to Hel.
