Weaving Fate - Nora Ash Page 0,56

away any such notions, leaving only the basest of instincts to take.

Just like every other alpha who’d claimed her against her will.

She could never love me like I loved her—and I’d spend eternity living with that knowledge intimately lodged behind my ribs.

Or at least until Odin killed Saga and Magni, and she, Modi, and I all died excruciating deaths alongside them.

Dread sank in past the misery. I’d failed her. I’d failed all of us. It had been my job to convince Loki to help us, and I’d been unable to.

The ache of my father’s betrayal throbbed behind the numbness created by Arni and Magga’s deaths, a nightmare that refused to wane in the light of day.

“Bjarni?” Annabel stirred, her sleepy murmur followed by a hand sliding to my hip. “What’s wrong?”

My anguish must have woken her. I squashed down the thrill of her care. Of course she cared—my pain was hers.

“Nothing,” I lied, reaching out to stroke her cheek. “Go back to sleep, sweetie.”

“I’ve slept long enough,” she muttered, straightening to a seated position. Her movement woke up Modi, whose eyelids fluttered, gaze zeroing in on her the moment he was conscious.

“Annabel?” His voice was thick with sleep.

“We need to get moving,” she said. “Bjarni, did you reach Loki? Does he have a plan?”

“Are you strong enough to move?” Modi asked, frowning as he scanned her pale flesh, eyes resting on her many bruises. “We can afford a few days’ rest, if you need it.”

Such a different tune to what he'd sung before he'd stuck his knot in her. I snorted.

“I’m fine.” There was no patience in Annabel’s voice as she withdrew from both of us to dangle her feet over the edge of the bed, stretching her legs experimentally. “We don’t have time for this protective alpha routine. Bjarni?”

I glanced at Modi. His face tightened, turning stony at her rejection. Poor sod. He probably hated every instinctive urge clamoring to go overbearing alpha on the girl he’d had little patience for before mating her, and she wasn’t having any of it.

“Loki isn’t going to help us,” I said. “We have to find a way to save them on our own.”

“What?” Annabel’s voice broke, either from outrage or shock—possibly both. “His own children are in danger! Did you explain to him that Saga and Grim might die?”

“I did. He doesn’t care.” It was hard to get the words out. My father—my father—didn’t care whether we lived or died, so long as he was safe. “We will get nothing from him, so it's best we spend what time we have left finding another way to free our brothers.”

“We don’t need another way,” Modi growled. “I never expected the traitor to risk his own neck—I came prepared to force his surrender. I suggest you get on board.”

I stared at him. However grateful I was that he didn’t take the opportunity to twist the knife of my father’s refusal to help, after I’d so adamantly claimed he would, it was hard to hold back an eyeroll.

“He’s the God of Mischief," I reminded him. "He’s way too powerful for us to force him to do anything he doesn’t want to—believe me.”

A small, warm hand rested on my leg, sending a jolt of sensation to my ribs. When I looked back, Annabel’s brown eyes locked with mine, glowing with intent.

“There is no other way, and you know it. He may be the God of Mischief, but right now, he’s what stands between us and the lives of those we love. He doesn’t want to help? Fine. We don’t give him a choice. One way or the other, he’s going to get us your brothers back. That I promise you.”

Twenty-One

Annabel

“The only way we stand a chance is if we take him by surprise.”

I looked up at Bjarni as he paced in front of the makeshift board he’d made from scavenged pieces of paper and a broken chair. On it he’d drawn a rough layout of Loki’s location, along with a few scribbled notes. As much as he thought his father wasn’t going to be overcome by our ragtag little group, he’d committed to trying.

Possibly because we all knew that without Loki, we didn’t stand a chance. He might be powerful, but it’d be infinitely easier to beat him than it would Odin and all the forces of Valhalla.

“How will we manage to surprise him?” Modi cut in. “He already knows we’re here. He knows we want to bring him before Odin.”

“He won’t expect me to come