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“He’ll attack soon,” Wren agreed.
“At this point, he’ll try to take me again,” the Huntsman sounded so certain, cluing Odin to the fact that he must have been pondering this for a while now on his own.
He didn’t like the idea of Hunter being scared but not sharing.
“If he can’t,” Hunter continued, “he’ll kill me to ensure Snow can’t use me to boost. We could always use me as bait—”
“Absolutely not.” A wave of heat rushed off of Odin’s body, turning up the temperature of the room a couple of degrees at just the thought of it. “We’ll find another way. There’s no need to put you in danger.”
“It could be the fastest way,” he argued. “We need to get him while he’s still injured. It’s been weeks already and Shouts heal fast. We’re running out of time and you know it. I can—”
“Don’t you trust me?” Odin cut him off, only to have Hunter heave a sigh of exasperation.
“Of course I do,” he said, “Why else would I suggest something so risky? I’m only willing to do it because I know there’s no way you would ever allow something bad to happen to me again.”
“He does sort of have a valid—” Vetle dropped his gaze to the table. “Never mind.”
“How much blood do you think you need to drink to keep the upper hand?” Wren asked then. “You were able to best Isa so easily because you caught him off guard, but he has his mother’s power, and she wasn’t much weaker than your father in that department.”
“She couldn’t stand against him.” That was why she’d had to resort to dirty tricks. Odin licked his lips and considered things. “I’m certain I’m more powerful than he is already. The real question is by how much. You know how fights go. Strength and power are only parts of the equation.”
“Before I was kidnapped,” Hunter informed the others, “he was drinking daily. We need to start getting back into that routine. The boost he gets will last longer that way.”
“As opposed to?” Wren cocked a brow, the glint in his eyes showing he was just messing around. “Draining you dry?”
Hunter hummed. “Taking more at once would, of course, lead to stronger effects.”
“Enough.” Odin didn’t like the turn this conversation was having. “Taking too much from you would make you weak and vulnerable.”
“You already won’t let me play bait,” Hunter stubbornly insisted. “This could be an alternative. If you drink as much as I can take for a couple of days—”
“I said enough.”
“Stop interrupting me.”
“Stop suggesting nonsense,” he countered.
“I think Snow is right,” Wren said after the two of them had wasted almost a full minute glaring at one another. “Not only did Frost figure out that you’re a Whisper when he took you, but he’s also now aware that you’re Odin’s one and only weakness. You need to stay in top form to protect yourself. The next attack can come at any given moment, and you’ve already realized you’re more than likely his target.”
“Do what you have to where the Emperor is concerned,” Odin brought them back around, sending his friend an appreciative nod for siding with him on this. “Just make sure you’re available if need be.”
“Of course.” Wren stood and made a big show of bowing with an overly dramatic flourish. “Long live the king.”
“Where are you going?” Vetle asked as he headed toward the door.
“To do my own thing.” He quirked a brow. “Why, was there something else?”
“Are you really that eager to get back to the Emperor and call things off?”
“No,” his smile turned dark, “I’m that eager to get back to the Emperor and kill him.”
“What?” Hunter blinked.
“We don’t need him.” Wren shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. It won’t affect you or your Shout, Thorn. Not really, anyway.”
“Wren.” Odin did not like the sound of that.
“Oh come on, everything has a ripple effect, that’s all I’m talking about. I stand by what I said to you earlier when we came to this agreement. I won’t tread on your crown, Snow, so don’t try and stop me from snatching mine.”
