banal offspring, but even they have the zest for the macabre he passes on to all of us.”
I ignored her comment, even though I was quite sure it was some sort of a dig. “Let me stop Ragnarök. Free me, and don’t come to Midgard with your army of undead. In return, I will find a way to free you once we have stopped it. You will walk in the world of the living again—in the true world of the living. You will see color, feel the warmth of the sun on your skin, and experience what life truly is like.”
Her lips curled into that dangerous smile again. “Even if that were something I desired, I doubt you would be able to find a way where I have failed. Intriguing or no, you are only a human.”
“Human-ish,” I said with a nonchalance I didn’t feel. “I have captured the God of Mischief, defeated Nidhug, and I will stop Ragnarök. If you agree to this bargain, I will find a way to free you. I promise.”
“The promise of a desperate woman,” Hel mused. She turned from me and walked to another cage, dark eyes hooded as she regarded the soul within. “Willing to lie, beg, and steal for her freedom.”
“I will swear a blood oath,” I said despite the twang of fear in my gut. “And I will give you anything you desire.”
Hel skimmed her fingers down the glass between us and the unfortunate soul within. The air shimmered lightly, but no shattering followed. “Anything I desire?” The purr was back in her voice. “And if that is a life?”
I had known this would be a likely outcome. That was why I had requested to speak with her alone. My mates would never allow me to bargain my life, but this was the Goddess of Death. Her price was expected.
“Then I would give it.” My voice didn’t falter. For that, I was grateful. “But only my life—you will have to find a way to spare my mates death upon our bonds being severed.”
And she would have to spare my daughter too. It took everything I had not to press a hand to my abdomen. But if my choice was to let my child grow up without a mother, or to let the world she would live in get swallowed by darkness and doom… then it was not difficult to pick.
The goddess kept her eyes on the cage, but I saw her smile hike up higher. “Hmm. You really are eager, little soul. I am pleased—you passed my test. If you will trade your own life, I deem your commitment worthy of a bargain.”
Her test? A thread of relief wormed its way through my chest, even as I braced for the other shoe to drop. If she didn’t want my life, then what?
She finally turned to me then, dark eyes glowing, and clasped a bony hand around my wrist with strength far greater than her frail physique would suggest her capable of. “I want the spark within you, Annabel Turner. My brothers can keep you—call it a wedding gift, if you like. But if you want me to release you, if you want me to remain here with my armies while you fight Ragnarök… then you will give me your spark.”
I frowned. “My magic? What…”
I trailed off. It was a stupid question. Hadn’t I shown her my power as I stepped up to her throne? Warned her of its strength? Told her how I defeated both Nidhug and her father? There were a great many things a goddess as dangerous as Hel could use my magic for.
But what she didn’t know was that my true strength came from my mates. Without them, my magic was far less extraordinary. Far less dangerous in the wrong hands.
It was a part of me, yes—something that had offered me strength when I’d thought I had none—and the thought of giving it up was painful. But not nearly as painful as giving my own life, and I had been willing to offer that.
“I will need it to stop Ragnarök,” I said slowly. “But… after. If that is what you want, I will give it freely.”
“Then we have an agreement.” Hel closed her eyes. Black plumes of power rose around her and swept through me, coaxing out my own magic. “Swear to me that you will free me from the underworld and allow me to walk wherever I please. Swear to me that in nineteen years, you will