Weaving Fate - Nora Ash Page 0,37

get on another plane after we finally landed in O’Hare, and I wasn’t about to start arguing.

I’d not flown a lot during my time in Midgard, but what little experience I had was enough for me to know that I strongly preferred both my feet on the ground, even if it was covered in snow.

The urgency of getting to my father had anxiety clenching at my gut, but when I looked down at Annabel who’d nestled up by my side, I regretted not insisting we stop and rest before continuing our journey. It’d been too many hours since any of us had gotten any rest, and we were all feeling it.

“Can you not take up so much space?” the little omega growled next to me as she squirmed to get comfortable in her seat. “I still have a crick in my neck from that godawful flight, and I just want to breathe! You’re like a goddamn furnace.”

“You allow her too much leeway,” Modi said from his seat across from us. He stared disapprovingly at Annabel’s irritated scowl. “No omega I’ve met has dared give an alpha this much lip.”

“Maybe you’re just not used to omegas who aren’t afraid to tell you when they’re tired of your shit,” Annabel hissed.

I sighed, pulling her closer to me despite her squirming to put distance between us. “You, settle down and go to sleep. It’s fucking freezing out there—be happy you’ve got an alpha to keep you warm. And you.” I leveled Modi with a stare. “Try to not antagonize an omega running on zero sleep and an entire plane of existence’s separation from her mates, hmm? You’re supposed to be better than that, right, Thorsson?”

Modi had the good grace to look away, heat I chose to read as embarrassment coloring his cheeks.

Annabel, on the other hand, huffed out an insult about overbearing alphas, but a few moments later she stopped squirming and settled against me. It didn’t take long before her breathing turned slow and steady.

I leaned back in my seat with a sigh, wishing I too could catch some sleep. I looked across at Modi, noticing how his gaze rested on Annabel’s sleeping form. Irritation fizzled in my chest, but I smothered it. Even a prick like Modi would find it hard to completely ignore the primitive yearnings this little omega provoked.

“I’ll take first watch,” I said, drawing his attention. When he realized I’d seen him staring at Annabel, he flushed again and narrowed his eyes defensively. As if I didn’t know how impossible it was to keep your attention off her.

“You think I’ll sleep while you keep watch over me?"

I arched an eyebrow. “It’s a two-day ride. I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna need some shuteye or I won’t be worth a lick of salt. Pretty sure we can both agree it’d be dumb to kill each other before we’ve freed our brothers.”

His lips flattened in resigned annoyance. “I guess I’ll need my strength when we face Loki.”

“For what? He’s my father—he’ll help us.”

Modi stared at me incredulously. “You actually think we’re just gonna walk in there, tell Loki that Odin wants him brought back in chains, and he’ll voluntarily come along to get executed?”

“Of course not,” I huffed. “But he is the God of Mischief. He’ll come up with a plan, or some sort of illusion to avoid death. He’ll come with us—he’s not gonna let Saga and Grim die.”

Modi was silent for a long time, his eyes never leaving mine. Finally he said, “You really believe that. You think Loki, the betrayer who brought about the literal end of the world, cares enough about anyone to risk his own skin? Have you had a hard look around at the other creatures you share blood with? Did he care when Narfi was murdered? Why would he care about you three when he doesn’t for anything else he’s fathered? Or mothered, for that matter.”

I frowned. I’d never known my half-brother Narfi. Loki had only mentioned him once during a visit when we were young. He’d laughed as he'd told the story of how Odin sought to hurt him by having one of his children killed, yet the god-king still happily rode around on Sleipner, the eight-legged horse Loki had given birth to after some misadventure with a vengeful Jotunn.

But Narfi had died long before any of us were born. My father was never a warm man, but he’d ensured Grim, Saga, and I were well-cared-for as we grew up.