much more intense when the bottom of his shaft swelled.
“Shit!” I’d asked for it, and even as I clawed at his shoulders and writhed to escape the inevitable, some dark, primal part of my mind thrilled as my pussy lost the battle against his knot and yielded to the stretch.
Grim’s groan of pleasure mixed with my pained howl, the thick bulge forcing its way in behind my pelvic bone and locking us together.
My muscles contracted again, forcing a mewl from my throat when the pressure of it pushed hard against my G-spot. I was already coming again when Grim pressed his thumb against my clit, taking my orgasm into the skies.
I cried out his name and heard mine echo through my mind in return. Cool semen bathed my cervix, making my pussy spasm around his knot again. My G-spot shuddered at the renewed pressure, and I seized up in another bone-shattering release spurred by Grim’s constant circles on my swollen clit.
Tenderness swarmed my mind, a mixture of my own endorphin-fueled emotions and his, soothing the physical roughness of the knotting. I clung to him, moaning his name as I rode the waves of pained pleasure, my ecstasy-addled thoughts blending into his.
I was halfway to oblivion when another image flickered through my mind. It was of me in my feathered leathers, sitting on a throne of bones, a skull in one hand and a still-beating heart in the other. Behind me, a sentinel half-hidden in shadows stood guard.
Grim.
“W-What was that?” I groaned, the imagery different enough from all the sex-addled thoughts we’d shared it sobered me.
Grim’s only response was to press his thumb hard against my clit and rock his hips into mine, and my thoughts scattered to the wind as my body seized with another climax.
By the time sleep finally stole me away, I’d forgotten all about that unsettling image.
Fourteen
Grim
I loved her.
Norn-forced or not, I loved her, and it was a dark, hideous, possessive urge so deeply rooted in the most primal parts of my soul it would be impossible to weed out.
I rubbed absentmindedly at my ribs as I watched Annabel climb over a fallen tree while holding Mimir safely under her left arm. Her backside swayed, drawing my focus from our surroundings. I gritted my teeth, ignoring the stab of desire low in my gut.
Lust. I was starting to understand why the desert religions thought of it as sinful. What my body ached for every time I so much as glanced at my mate was distracting, easily overpowering, and all-consuming. There was nothing good or pure about it, that much was certain. But it wasn’t what had the darkness inside of me swelling.
Love.
I almost laughed amidst the bleak horror of it all. There were those among the gods who saw Freya as weak, mild—easily ignored. If they’d ever felt what I did after my soul wove itself with Annabel’s, they would cower in fear of the Goddess of Love.
Tendrils snaked through my thoughts, plucking out the memory of my mate holding me tight while she swore she’d kill the one who’d harmed me. Fierce. She was so ruthlessly fierce, even if she submitted eagerly underneath me. Iron and flesh.
My magic swelled, pushing at the wall I’d erected between my end of our bond and hers. Keeping it in place was a constant battle—my very soul ached to blend with hers again, but if I yielded, it would truly be the end. Those brief, euphoric moments during my climax where I’d lost control of myself so completely my mind had spilled into hers nearly undid everything I’d ever cared about.
I sent my brothers a thought, steeling my mind against the seething anger flaring from somewhere deep in my primordial makeup.
I’d been prepared for this—for the jealousy, the urge to rip apart the men who meant everything to me, and for the sudden shift to make the omega my primary priority.
I hadn’t been prepared to love her.
As if sensing my distress despite my ironclad grip on our connection, Annabel shot a look at me over her shoulder. Her plump lips curved up in a soft smile that made me wonder if Verdandi’s web had cursed her with the same feelings as I. No one had ever smiled at me like that before.
I doubted anyone ever would.
“It’s not much longer now,” Mimir said, drawing our attention. “We will have to ask them for guidance. Respectfully, please. I don’t much desire having my eyeballs pecked from my skull.”
“Them?” Annabel asked as I