could have persuaded with coin to care for Magni’s injuries, and there were more places in the nine realms to hide from Surtr than Asgard. There’d been bad blood between us and these Aesir pricks for eons, but going so far as to have us executed for our father's supposed crimes? That was a new development.
But I supposed it’s what happened when your dad was accused of bringing around the literal end of the world.
“If that is what you require as proof of our innocence, then we will bring you Loki,” Saga said, and he sounded so sincere I’d have believed him if I hadn’t known him as well as I did. “Our loyalty lies with my mate and her kin, not our father.”
“Well, it sounds like that’s all sorted, then,” Thor said, slapping Modi’s shoulder. “Go untie your brother, and then prepare yourself for traveling—even with those three worms, he’s gonna need you help capturing that sly bastard.”
“Not so fast,” Odin said, rising from his throne. “I am not inclined to simply trust your words, sons of Loki.”
“You claim my son is dishonorable?” Thor boomed. “You may not trust Loki’s sons, but you will trust mine, or so help me—”
“Dad!” Trud hissed. “You’re not helping!”
It’d been a long time since I saw Thor’s daughter. When we were younger, I’d tried to fool around with her, but these days, the urge to bend her over and defile her with my Jotunn dick was gone.
Instead I glanced at the dark-haired woman wrapped in Modi’s arms and felt a spasm in my chest at her furious expression behind his palm. She’d gone to bat for us—or had tried to. I didn’t know her well, but I knew she was strong. Fierce. And she was supposed to be mine.
“I will allow one of you to go," Odin said. "The three others will remain here as collateral. Bring Loki to me, and your brothers will live. Break your word…”
He didn’t need to finish the sentence. We all knew what would happen.
“Magni will go,” Thor growled. “He and Modi will bring you the betrayer.”
“And how do you suppose he’ll get close to our father?” Saga asked, the sardonic note clear even to me. “Who do you think’ll have more luck luring the God of Trickery, your son or his own? I will go.”
“You will not.” Odin stared down at him, the threat of his power looming around him like a billowing cape. “You’re mated. Your familiar ties may not be as strong as they once were.”
I snorted before I could stop myself—clearly this old prick knew nothing of the power of blood. Yeah, Annabel was Saga’s first priority now, but she was also ours. And neither of us would ever betray each other, even if it were to keep her safe. There’d always be another way.
My snort made Odin’s single eye land on me. “You. You will go.”
“No, I will,” Grim said, speaking for the first time since we’d been captured by the Valkyries.
“I have made my decision,” Odin replied, his disturbing gaze unwavering. “Bjarni Lokisson, your task is to bring your father to me. Do this, and your brothers shall live. Fail, and they will pay the price of his treason. You have three weeks until the moon grows full.”
“And my son?” Thor asked.
“He stays here with the Jotunns he aligned himself with the moment he decided to share the omega with one of them. That is final.”
Odin shot the redheaded god a look so loaded, the protest that had undoubtedly been about to burst out died on his lips.
The god-king glanced at the Valkyries behind us. “Keep our guests secure, but comfortable.”
I stared after him as he left the same way he'd entered, his two ravens squawking from their perch as the weight of the duty he’d placed on my shoulders settled. I alone was responsible for my brothers’ lives.
Throughout the ages, it had always been the three of us, each of us protecting the others as best we could. But where I’d had more of my mother’s brawn than my brothers, they’d been gifted with more of our father’s brains. I’d relied on them to outwit our enemies when necessary and work magic I had little to no grasp of.
Now it was all down to me, and I was pretty certain that I wouldn’t be able to just bash in some skulls to fix this.
Hopefully our father would be able to formulate a plan—assuming I could find him.
“Get up,” the winged bitch