Weaving Fate - Nora Ash

One

Annabel

“What do they mean, pay with the same blood? Are they going to kill them? They can’t do that!”

Trud cut my panicked tirade short, grabbing me gently by my shoulders and halting my pacing in the upturned kitchen.

“We’re not going to let anyone hurt Magni,” she said.

“That’s great, but what about Saga and his brothers?” I bit, shooting Modi a glare. I realized it wasn’t the siblings’ fault that their mother betrayed my mates, but right then, I needed an outlet. “Your brother’s made it plenty clear he’s more than happy to see them dead!”

Modi turned toward me, his blue eyes flashing, but when he opened his mouth—undoubtedly to retaliate—Trud shook her head at him before refocusing on me.

“Loki’s sons are scum, it’s true, but you’re mated to one of them. If he dies, you die. And if you die, so does our brother.”

She seemed to be speaking as much to me as she was Modi, judging from his dark look in her direction.

“I’ll find Dad," she continued. "The Valkyries will be taking them to Valhalla to stand trial in front of Odin. Without Thor’s presence, I fear it will be too easy for the other gods to turn against our half-blooded brother and the traitor’s spawn.”

“I’m sure Dad would be the first to roast those three trolls next to Sæhrímnir,” Modi muttered.

“Perhaps, but not at Magni's expense,” Trud said, giving him a hard stare. “I’m going to go look for Dad. I’ll meet you at Valhalla. I don’t have to tell you to take care of your brother’s omega while I’m gone, do I?”

Modi pursed his lips, and I got the distinct impression she’d insulted his honor somehow. “No, sister. You don’t have to remind me to fulfill my obligations to my blood; I know my duties to my brother’s mate. She will be under my care and protection. Now go.”

Ah, there it was. For a moment, I’d forgotten I was a commodity in alphas’ eyes, not a sentient being with my own agency.

I shot him an annoyed look, but decided against making a fuss—this time. There were more important things at stake than my need to assert myself, and I did need someone to guide me to Valhalla. Somehow I doubted a human would be left to wander on her own in the realm of the gods.

Trud gave me what was probably meant to be a reassuring smile. Then she walked out the door, leaving me with her brother.

The redheaded god shook his head, and I was pretty sure I heard him mutter, “Fucking Magni,” under his breath. Then he looked at me and heaved a deep sigh.

“All right then, omega. Let us prepare for Valhalla.”

“My name’s Annabel,” I said. “How do we prepare for Valhalla? Is there a ritual, or—”

“Of course there’s not a ritual—I’m the son of Thor. I come and go in all of Asgard as I please,” he said, giving me a look as if he suspected I was slow. “Do they teach you nothing in Midgard? But one does not waltz into the house of Odin without a shirt, hmm?”

He indicated his very broad, very naked torso, and I flushed despite myself. Thor’s legitimate son was a bit of a dick, but he was also extremely well-built.

“Well… get dressed, then,” I said, looking away to avoid giving the impression I might have been ogling him. “I have two mates to save, and I’m not about to wait around while you try on pretty shirts.”

Modi barked a laugh, slapping me on the back hard enough to make me stumble a step before I caught myself.

“I see my brother likes them feisty. All right, little omega. Wait here—I’ll try not to take all day.”

Modi did, in fact, not take very long to get dressed. He came down after maybe five minutes, wearing a linen tunic and animal hide leggings with his sword hanging off a plain leather belt. Yet despite the simple outfit, he still emanated a near-regal presence with his arrow-straight posture and smooth strides.

He exuded all the confidence of a god—which kind of made sense, I supposed. He was a god. But so was Magni.

My thoughts turned to my redheaded mate’s anger at Sif’s reaction to our presence, and the old wounds I’d felt in our bond from his life in this house. Magni was formidable, a god among alphas in his own right—but he didn’t carry himself the same way his brother did.

They may have looked alike, may have carried the same divine