had blisters, and I was cursing the tricksy omega bitch under my breath every time my gaze caught the ring on my thumb. But we needed a fire to keep the night creatures at bay, and so I’d spent the better part of an hour rubbing a sharpened stick between my palms.
I shot a glare in Annabel’s direction. She was leaning against one of the large rocks that made up our shelter for the night, head back and eyes closed while Mimir droned on about one of his old adventures with Odin, back when he still had legs.
She was barely conscious.
How much longer would she be able to keep going? She regained some of her strength while she slept, but every morning she seemed just a bit weaker than the day before.
Perhaps her reason for the bargain she’d suggested was not entirely to exact revenge on me. Maybe she realized she needed her magic back as well if she were to have any chance at escaping Hel—and me.
I bit the inside of my cheek as I weighed my options. No doubt she would insist on her ludicrous terms until she was so weak, she would have to consider other options. If I waited her out, maybe she would restore my magic in return for her own.
Of course, that meant I would still have to lay with her.
A full body shudder traveled up the length of my spine as uninvited images of Annabel writhing naked echoed in my mind, and that hated, primitive heat curled in my pelvis.
Desire.
I forced it down and locked it up tight. Anger took its place as I stared at the half-sleeping girl, at her full, soft lips and the curve of her breasts. But my anger wasn’t directed at her; this was my flaw, not hers. Another “gift” from Loki’s side of my family tree.
True Mistborn never surrendered to baser instincts. Gods did.
But I had other gifts from my father—much more useful ones. Patience. Treachery. I could wait her out until even her impressive stubbornness would have to surrender to the reality of her situation. I needed my magic back more than I needed whatever shreds of dignity I had left.
Once she was weak enough to beg for it, I would trade my powers for hers. There was no need to claim her. She would have to bend on this long before I.
Annabel’s stubbornness really was impressive.
Three days later, she was still stumbling west through the forest, tripping and falling over roots and stones because she was too tired to lift her feet properly.
I was starting to suspect she’d rather keel over dead than beg for my help, and I was running out of time. We’d come across several signs of trolls in the area, but had so far managed to avoid direct contact. However, I wasn’t willing to gamble and see how much longer our luck might last.
“You know,” I drawled when Annabel fought her way back to her feet after yet another tumble, “this whole escape plan you two have would probably be a lot easier if you weren’t tripping over your own feet every five yards.”
“You sound like you are about to sell me the cure to all that ails me.” Despite her snarky tone, her breath came in small huffs, weakened by her exhaustion.
“I suppose that is one way to look at it,” I hummed.
“What do you want, Grim? I’m too tired for games.”
“You know what I want—my powers back so I can protect you. I suspect you might want your energy back. And, as a bonus, your own powers,” I said, careful to keep my voice neutral.
Annabel jerked to a stop, her head snapping around to stare at me over her shoulder. “Wait—are you suggesting sex?”
The sheer shock on her features was somewhat… surprising. And possibly insulting.
“That is how you restore your magic, is it not?”
She stared at me for another moment, then guffawed and turned back around to the path ahead. “Now who’s desperate for a fuck? The answer is no. I’m not removing your ring until you claim me. I told you, it’s non-negotiable.”
I gritted my teeth and forced my temper down. “I want you to imagine what’s going to happen to your beloved mates if you die here, Annabel. Really, truly picture it. The agony they will suffer—the despair. The eternity they will spend down here without you, knowing your soul has been reduced to nothing but a husk for Hel’s use. Who knows? Perhaps they will willingly