Chapter 22 Nøkken #3
Furious sparks danced along Thori’s knuckles, and Eldur paled. Impossibly, it felt like the amber bracelet made it easier to tap into his thunder.
“Liar,” Thori snarled.
“Enough,” Njord said, pulling him back against his chest.
But Thori had no intention of backing down.
“Take it back!”
Thunder cracked, and lightning struck the tabletop directly in front of Eldur. Thori flinched in surprise. How had he done this?
“Thori!” Njord’s voice was sharp with authority, and he grabbed Thori’s wrist without hesitation, curling his fingers around the bracelet too.
More sparks came to life in Thori’s palm, dancing up Njord’s arm. For a breathless moment, Thori feared that he’d hurt him, but Njord didn’t even flinch.
“Calm, Thori,” he said against his neck.
“But he said—”
“It’s the truth,” Njord said, gentle now, and his grounding presence helped to settle Thori’s agitated thunder.
This couldn’t be! Had they just shared his thunder power? And if Svanhild had indeed studied along the volur of Asgard, there was no way she wasn’t associated with his father.
Suddenly tired to the bone, Thori slumped against Njord’s shoulder. He felt like he was trying to win a game of chess against his sister—always a pointless endeavor—but every time he developed a strategy, his pieces were rearranged to bring him into an even more hopeless position.
Stunned silence settled over the council, all eyes on the smoldering scorch mark in front of Eldur.
Skalmold gathered her wits first.
“How did you do that? This is amazing.”
But before Thori could answer, Hrothgar started laughing again. The vala’s face flushed an unhealthy crimson, and he wouldn’t stop snickering as if his dire situation was a hilarious joke.
“He doesn’t even know who cast the runes at his birth.” He fixed Thori with a stare full of madness. “She has seen your demise, little thunder. And with the son of Odin, the Nine Worlds will fall. She will rise again.”
“She?” Gylfa asked.
“I hope for your sake that you aren’t talking about Svanhild,” Skalmold said.
“The Bog Mother,” Njord said.
Hrothgar’s eyes widened.
“It’s her whom you serve, is it not?”
“You know her?”
For the first time, Hrothgar showed something like doubt.
“I should’ve figured it’s her doing earlier. The bog dwellers. The mad n?kken. And you wear her twisted symbols.”
“You know her,” Hrothgar breathed.
Njord’s grip around Thori’s wrist tightened.
“She was a goddess when the Nine Worlds were still young, stalking the bogs and marches demanding sacrifices of blood and suffering from her worshippers.”
“She bestowed her faithful followers power through agony.”
“She was worse than Odin had ever been,” Njord said coolly. “Where does Svanhild plan to awaken her?”
Hrothgar snickered.
“Wouldn’t you like to know that, Shipbreaker?”
“I recommend you tell us.”
“You fool. It’s already too late!”
Hrothgar cackled, but Njord turned to Skalmold, calm as ever. How Thori envied him for his composure.
“Can you extract the information we need from his body?”
“Certainly.”
“Good.”
“Thori—” Njord’s voice dropped to a deep, seductive murmur. He lifted Thori’s right, so he was pointing at Hrothgar, and Njord wrapped his left possessively around Thori’s throat. Heat flooded Thori’s veins. “—You didn’t like the drowning. You’re allowed to give this traitor a quick death.”
Thori’s breath hitched as uncertainty and excitement overwhelmed him. “I can’t.”
He turned his head to look up into Njord’s eyes, bright with fury. But his thunder was trapped. He couldn’t—
“Yes, you can.”
“What are you talking about?” Hrothgar asked, his voice taking on a shrill edge.
Face morphing into an expression of pure horror, the traitorous vala started struggling against his bonds.
Thori let his power run free. A mighty clap of thunder shattered the silence, and Hrothgar was struck down by lightning. He didn’t even scream; he simply fell still as if the Norns had severed all the threads of his fate.
Thori was dizzy with the relief of being allowed to wield his thunder again, even if it was only on Njord’s terms. Breathing hard, he clung to Njord, trying to center himself.
He was only distantly aware that Njord was giving orders to prepare the fortress for an attack and to search for further signs of the entity he’d called ‘Bog Mother’.
Skalmold announced in grimy detail how she planned to extract information from Hrothgar’s corpse, but all Thori could think about was that his thunder had touched Njord and didn’t harm him, that his power had chosen Njord to be part of it.
“I understand your mistrust of the AEsir,” Njord said, addressing the mountain giant, and Thori’s heart sank.
Only now, the implications of what he’d done began to register. He was in so much trouble for attacking an advisor.
“But Thori belongs to me. You won’t speak ill of him.”
“Understood, my lord.”
The giant bowed his head, and the others nodded their agreement. Andora looked at them with something like awe.
Njord finished the council meeting with his usual calm authority, and Thori was relieved when the sea lord finally ordered him back to their sleeping chambers. He stumbled to the bed, barely awake, and sank down on its edge.
“I wouldn’t have hurt your giant,” Thori mumbled, feeling like he had to say something to defend his actions.
“I know.”
Sitting down next to him, Njord pushed a few unruly strands of hair back behind Thori’s ear.
“Still, I’ll have to punish you for your rashness.”
“Oh.”
On some level, Thori knew he should be afraid, but he was too tired by now to care.
“Don’t worry,” Njord breathed. “I won’t be cruel.”
A shudder ran down Thori’s spine, and his chest constricted with a confusing mixture of complicated feelings.
Apprehension?
Gratitude?
Lust?
He didn’t know anymore.
And he didn’t care.
Swaying forward, he pressed a chaste kiss to Njord’s lips.
“Thori,” Njord breathed, before kissing him back, soft and sensual.
He pulled away way too soon.
“You should sleep now, elskan.”
“Will you join me, master?”
In the depth of the night, in the privacy of Njord’s chambers, it felt only right to address him this way, and Njord’s pleased little smile was certainly worth it.
“Soon.”
Pressing a soft kiss on Thori’s forehead, Njord pushed him down into the sheets.