Weaving Fate - Nora Ash Page 0,55

was that, Loki or no, once my brother was free from Odin’s righteous fury, Ragnarök was still here.

Annabel was still going to die.

Sick terror clenched my gut, followed by immediate, white-hot determination. No. I was Modí the Brave, son of Thor, slayer of Jotunns. I was never going to let that happen. I could not.

“We have to stop Ragnarök.”

“I know,” she said, wincing when Bjarni rolled them over and his coital tie pulled on her abused opening.

She looked so small in his arms, so… frail. Exhaustion painted every line of her face, bruises covering her skin from where he and I had held her in place while we took our pleasure from her mortal flesh.

She was the epitome of an omega: small, weak, and built to submit. Yet supposedly the Norns had decided that she would be the key to ending Ragnarök.

This tiny mortal.

Our bond flickered in my chest, pulling me from my musings. I frowned, rubbing at my ribs, but before I could process the alien sensation, Bjarni nuzzled at Annabel’s messy hair and emitted a low rumbling noise.

A fucking purr. He was purring for her, soothing her frazzled mind and body as if he had no care in the world. As if this situation was in any way normal.

I had not purred for her after I took her.

I stared at them as the bond instantly relaxed and Annabel’s eyelids fluttered, intense jealousy mixing with relief at the absence of tension in our connection. It was so easy for him—Hel, he would probably have claimed her even if he wasn't caught up in some ridiculous web of Fate and family obligations.

I could sense every tender emotion he felt as he stared in wonder down at the little thing in his arms. It was tinged with uncertainty and pain, but the soft, warm emotions were unmistakable.

Underneath all the bullshit, he cared for this human girl.

Annabel pressed her back closer to the blond alpha’s body, her features easing with every rumble vibrating through his chest. When she put her hand on his arm in a display of gratitude, something in me snapped.

I moved without conscious thought, rage, jealousy, and need pulling me onto the bed. She did not open her eyelids when I slid down next to her, pressing my naked skin to her front. She shivered at the contact, but a small hum of appreciation escaped her throat.

At least she was getting jerked around by bullshit instinct too. I knew she did not care for me, did not even really like me, but she craved my nearness as much as I did hers.

Staring a challenge at Bjarni, I forced a loud purr from my chest as well, drowning out his low rumble.

The blond giant narrowed his eyes at me as he increased his volume, a touch of aggression to the tone.

Between us, Annabel sighed. “Alphas,” she muttered. But she kept her eyes closed, and soon she drifted off to sleep, sandwiched between the two gods who had given up their own fates for her.

Twenty

Bjarni

Annabel slept for nearly twenty hours. I dozed in and out of consciousness while she rested, alternating with Modi. We didn’t discuss staying awake to guard the omega between us. We took turns naturally. The schedule worked itself out.

I guessed that was one of the "perks" of sharing a bonded mate—there was another alpha to watch over her while I slept.

Of course I’d have happily traded the ability to sleep peacefully if it meant my Annabel belonged to me and me alone. Perhaps then she wouldn’t have sobbed in my arms after I made her mine.

Agony twisted in my gut and I buried my face in her messy hair to calm the pain with a lungful of her scent. She hadn’t wanted this—she’d confirmed as much when she'd said the Norns were behind our mating.

I couldn’t even blame her—of course she didn’t want this. No omega would want a bond with four alphas, four men who pulled her in four different directions, tore at what made her whole, and shattered any sense of individuality she may have had before.

I hadn’t fully understood how fractured she was, how broken, until my bond hooked itself by her heart and I felt the depths of her despair.

I’d never thought I’d regret claiming Annabel, but I did. I’d fantasized of how I’d take her for so long, how I’d ensure she gasped my name with reverence, begged me to put my mark on her.

Seeing Modi on top of her had wiped