A Vigil in the Mourning (Soulbound #4) - Hailey Turner Page 0,113

down roots, tear through the veil, and draw one of the Nine Worlds to Earth. No soultakers had been needed this time around when Odin had done all the taking to begin with.

Last time, Patrick had sacrificed Jono’s soul without meaning to in order to put an end to the madness. This time, they were outside the spellwork completely, but Odin was still tied to it, and he only knew of one way to break that connection.

Do it.

The voices of Muninn and Huginn ripped through his mind, making colored spots flash across his vision from the pain. All but one disappeared, turning into a brightly burning splotch that took Patrick a moment to realize it wasn’t his eyes producing it, but Odin’s.

The god’s right eye burned like a Vesuvius flame, and all Patrick had to do was put it out.

Patrick gripped his dagger with cold fingers and pressed it against the palm of his other hand. One quick cut was all it took to draw blood to the blade, a back door to whatever was left of Ethan’s spell buried in Odin’s existence. Patrick raised the weapon high before bringing it down with an accuracy that had nothing to do with training or luck and everything to do with fate.

Because this was no Ragnarök, and Hel had no right to drag her truth into a world that had long since forgotten it.

The dagger buried itself in Odin’s heart while the storm ripped Patrick’s command away from his lips.

“Close the veil!”

For a moment, the world went silent, as if time had frozen every breath, every wave, every snowflake on its journey down to the ground and stilled the wind itself.

Then lightning flashed over the entirety of Chicago, turning night to day, and the thunder that followed nearly deafened Patrick. An explosion of glittering light erupted from the wound in Odin’s chest, curling around the dagger. Power pulled at Patrick’s soul, and he sank his awareness deep into the magic unraveling from Odin.

The toxic ties of Ethan’s magic was curled deep around Odin’s godhead, and Patrick couldn’t let his father get a foothold in yet another godhead. Blood would always call to blood, no matter the years and lies separating them. Patrick used that familial connection to sever what Ethan hoped to hold on to—a chance at godhood.

“Break,” Patrick snarled, voice shredding on the word.

The dagger—still buried in Odin’s chest—shone like a lone lighthouse beacon in a dark and raging storm. Patrick’s magic, guided by countless prayers gifted by the gods, cut through Ethan’s magic, giving Odin a way out. The burning essence of Odin’s godhood fled his immortal body, streaking toward the sky and disappearing into the storm.

The ground shuddered once more, the backlash from the spell breaking sending everything into an upheaval. Breathing heavily, Patrick scrambled to hold on to Odin’s body, not wanting it to be lost to Niflheim when Valhalla was the only hall Odin would ever sit in with the dead. His shaking fingers caught Odin by the shoulder, the dagger still protruding from the god’s chest. When Patrick yanked it free, heavenly fire poured out of the blade and into the wound like a waterfall.

A couple more pylons broke, and Navy Pier collapsed in on itself a little more. Patrick and his charge slipped farther down the broken pier, the entire structure seconds from going under.

Then teeth sank into Patrick’s shoulder, scraping against skin and drawing blood. Jono held on to him and dragged Patrick away from Hel’s domain and the twisting fog of the veil slowly stitching itself up again.

Lightning crashed overhead, illuminating Wade’s large form against the clouds and Hinon’s smaller one, the valkyries astride their pegasi, and the two huge ravens descending in a tight spiral.

Huginn and Muninn sank their talons into Odin’s body when they landed, and Patrick let the immortal go. The ravens flapped their great wings, gaining altitude, carrying the god with them into the storm. Patrick didn’t watch them leave, too busy trying to make it to solid land before Navy Pier collapsed completely, Jono standing steadfast by his side.

Jono hauled him the rest of the way there with preternatural speed and strength. Patrick didn’t let Jono go until they had dirt beneath their feet. Bodies were strewn around them—human and animal alike—but Ethan was gone. Werecreatures kept watch, ready to attack at a moment’s notice. Patrick pulled his leather jacket tight around his body, wet clothes like ice against his freezing skin even with active heat charms, and