Chapter 24
Rhyland
Fucking surreal doesn't even begin to cover this shit.
This is beyond anything I could have imagined. One minute, I'm dealing with vampire drama; the next, I'm soaring through the clouds on my father's battle-bred stallion. Life's got one hell of a sense of humor.
My fierce little angel amazes me by chattering up Gullfax like they're old friends. The beast practically preened when she translated his pride at carrying me, telling me how honored he is to serve. That kind of legacy hits harder than any battle wound.
They've set us up in quarters that would make mortal kings weep with envy. Everything gleams like polished moonstone and ancient power. After washing off the realm-hopping grime in a bath that could double as a small lake, we're dressed and seated at the table.
And by dressed, I mean holy fucking shit.
My woman's gown looks crafted from pure sin and warrior's dreams. The silvery fabric hugs every curve, Norse runes tracing paths I want to follow with my tongue, gold armbands wrapped delicately around her biceps.
That neckline dips just low enough to make my fangs ache, and the slit up her thigh is going to drive me fucking insane all night.
Not that it matters what she wears—Dani could be dressed in a garbage bag, and I'd still want to bend her over the nearest surface—but seeing this much of her skin on display?
Makes me want to wrap her in my jacket and snarl at anyone who dares to look too long.
Her hair cascades down her back like a waterfall of chocolate, intricate braids woven with precious beads that catch the light with every movement.
The style screams warrior princess, but all I can think about is how much I want to wrap those silken strands around my fist and—yeah, better keep those thoughts in check.
Not the time or place to let my inner beast show how much my mate's beauty affects me.
They've got me in some fancy warrior get-up—black leather pants, a midnight blue tunic with silver runes, and a vest that probably costs more than most kingdoms. At least the boots are made for combat—if anyone's eyes linger too long on my mate tonight, they might find out exactly how well they're crafted for ass-kicking.
This table is a fucking behemoth, groaning under the weight of a feast that could feed an army of warriors. We're talking a whole roasted boar that could gore a man, mountains of potatoes, and piles of fruits and veggies I can't even name.
I lean into Dani, my lips brushing her ear as I mentally connect, "Try to keep those sexy table manners in check, Angel.
Don't need these gods knowing what that mouth can really do.
" I smirk, remembering how her enthusiasm for a meal gets me rock-hard and ready.
The way she devours everything with gusto, all satisfied moans and licking her fingers clean?
Fucking hot as hell. But maybe not the best look in front of the Gods.
"Oh, you are so going to regret that later, mister," Dani's mental voice is pure sass, that dangerous, sweet tone promising retribution. "Keep it up, and I might just have to get creative with my... appreciation of the cuisine if you catch my drift."
The promise in her words sends a bolt of heat straight to my cock. My girl never backs down from a challenge, and I fucking love her for it. But as much as I'd like to take her up on that offer right here and now, I'm pretty sure Odin wouldn't appreciate me defiling his dining table.
"I trust your chambers are to your satisfaction." Odin's voice rolls like distant thunder across the table.
"Yes, they're beautiful. Though I'm a bit lost on the proper etiquette for addressing the king of gods," Dani quips, her smile bright despite the nervousness I feel through our bond. "Do I curtsy? Bow? Sacrifice a goat?"
A rumbling laugh escapes the All-Father. "Odin will suffice, child. Such formalities have no place among those destined to reshape the realms." He raises his goblet, studying her with that penetrating gaze. "It brings me great pleasure to finally meet you, Lightborn."
Dani's cheeks flush as she raises her glass, some of her usual sass returning. "Right back at you. Love what you've done with the place."
"The architectural magnificence is truly remarkable," Erik says from my left, his refined tone conveying measured appreciation. "One could spend centuries studying its intricacies."
"You're too kind," Frigg's voice flows like liquid silver, her smile radiant. But something shadows her ethereal features as she adds, "We've worked tirelessly to preserve its glory... though I fear for how long we can maintain such splendor."
"What do you mean?" Dani's brow furrows that analytical mind of hers already working overtime.
Heimdall's acid-green eyes sweep across the table like searchlights. "She speaks of the Dark Prophecy. We've already witnessed this realm's destruction once during Ragnarok—rebuilt it from ashes and—"
"—And we pray fervently that Moretemis shall not succeed where others failed," Frigg interjects, her tone tight with concern. "Your victory is crucial, both of you."
The memories slam into me like a battle axe—nights spent in smoky longhouses, drinking mead while village elders spun tales of Ragnarok.
That apocalyptic clusterfuck tore through the realms like a hurricane, leaving dead gods in its wake.
Thor, that mighty bastard, went out like a true warrior, taking down that world serpent even as its venom killed him.
Tyr lost his final battle, and Freya fell in flames—one by one, those immortal powerhouses dropped like flies.
Only a handful crawled out of that cosmic shitstorm alive—Odin, Heimdall, and that chaos-loving prick Loki, who probably orchestrated half the carnage himself.
And my father... Magni. However, finding out his fate is a whole different kind of gut punch. Guess fighting ancient darkness runs in the fucking family.
Next to Frigg sits some pretty boy who looks like he's never seen a day of actual combat—all golden hair and perfect features, decked out in pristine white and gold armor that's probably never tasted blood.
Everything about him screams privileged prince, from his perfectly styled hair to the way he carries himself like he owns the fucking place.
The kind of immortal who's probably never had to fight for a damn thing in his life.
"Forgive my manners," Frigg gestures to the golden-haired boy. "May I present our son, Baldr. He shall accompany you on your quest."
"The fuck he will," I growl before I can stop myself. The last thing we need is some pampered prince tagging along.
"Rhyland…" Dani hisses, gripping my arm in warning.
"Baldr's wisdom, earned in the halls of Valhalla itself, shall light your path," Odin's voice crashes like storm waves. "The secrets of our realm flow through his veins as surely as the waters of Urearbrunnr. His knowledge shall prove as vital as Mímir's counsel in the trials ahead."
The pretty boy has the nerve to look smug like he's just been handed the keys to the kingdom. Great. Just fucking great. Another immortal complication we need to add to this shit.
Dinner drags on like a fucking funeral march, the silence broken only by Odin's sporadic interrogation of Dani.
He's grilling her like she's on trial—her take on this cosmic shit-show, and how much she looks like Bryn.
That name alone sends Dani's emotions ricocheting through our bond like a pinball.
"So, any chance I could get a face-to-face with this long-lost sister of mine?" Dani asks, her casual tone barely masking the hunger for answers.
"Indeed. Bryn commands Valor's Watch, training our Valkyrie warriors," Odin rumbles. "That should be your next destination."
I can practically taste Dani's anxiety through our link, and the unspoken questions about her father clawing at her insides. But my girl's too bright to poke that hornet's nest now. Instead, she focuses on the issue hanging over us like a guillotine.
"Okay, I have to ask. The Soul Stone," she says, her voice steady as a sniper's aim. "Rhyland told me of its origins—how it was made. But how did it end up broken?"
Damn, good question. One I should've thought to ask when they dropped that bomb about my mother's power.
"An excellent question, indeed, Little Huntress," Erik nods, his tone as stiff as his posture.
Frigg sets her silver fork down, her voice soft. "Loki," she breathes, like the name itself is poison. "That trickster shattered the stone, scattering its pieces across the Seven Realms like seeds of chaos."
Of fucking course. Leave it to that trouble-loving prick to turn a simple task into a realm-wide scavenger hunt.
"I'm assuming he had a reason—"
"He sought to thwart our victory over the Shadow Lord!
" Odin's fist crashes against the ancient table with thunderous force, making the vessels dance.
His single eye blazes with the fury of a thousand burning worlds.
"Once again, the Trickster's poisoned words and serpent's schemes wound the halls of ásgard deeper than any giant's blade.
The prophecies were known to him, carved in the roots of Yggdrasil itself!
" His voice drops to a rumble. "Yet he chose the path of Chaos, betraying not just his kin but all Seven Realms. Even now, his treachery echoes through Ginnungagap's depths. "
The pieces click into place like a jigsaw puzzle made of pure fuckery. Leave it to Loki to turn a weapon of mass destruction into his personal game of hide and seek. That sneaky son of a bitch probably sat back and laughed his immortal ass off while watching everyone scramble to find them.
"Well, on the bright side, we've managed to snag all three pieces," Dani offers, but I can feel her nerves fraying through our bond. "Well, sort of…" She lays out the truth that might blow this feast to Hell.
"This outcome was foreseen," Frigg intones. "The path to reclaiming what was lost shall be fraught with peril. I have witnessed it in the threads of fate—a great battle, an enemy reborn, and a sacrifice that shall shake the very foundations of the realms."
Yeah, no fucking shit. When has anything in our lives been simple? At this point, I'd be more surprised if the universe didn't try to bend us over and—
"You must tread carefully," Frigg warns. "The forces you face will test you in ways you cannot imagine. But remember, even in the darkest of times, hope remains. You two are the key to salvation—never forget that."
I watch Dani swallow hard, plastering on that fierce smile I know too damn well. But I feel her terror spike at Frigg's words.
"What of the Zephyrite stone?" Erik inquires, his refined tone cutting through the doom and gloom like a blade. Trust Mr. Stoic to keep us focused on the mission.
"The Elemental Nexus," pretty boy Baldr finally decides to grace us with his voice, speaking like he's announcing the second coming.
His perfect face lights up with excitement.
"Getting there isn't exactly a casual stroll through Zephyria's elements and beasts.
You'll need warriors—real warriors—to reach it. "
The way he emphasizes "real warriors" makes my teeth itch like this pampered prince would know jack shit about actual combat. However, something in his tone suggests he knows more than he's letting on like he's been waiting all night to drop this particular bomb.
"Beasts? What kind of beasts are we talking about here?" Dani asks.
"Oh, you didn't think our realm would be all rainbow bridges and golden halls, did you?" Baldr's lips curl into a knowing smirk, and I fight the urge to introduce his face to the table. "There are... dangers."
"Gee, thanks for that detailed intel." Dani fires back, her warm amber eyes sparking. "Any chance you could be a bit more specific about these 'dangers,' or should I just assume everything is trying to kill us?"
"Frost giants, for one," Heimdall interjects.
"But they are far from the only threat you may encounter, lightborn.
" He leans forward, ancient eyes gleaming.
"Draugr—the undead—roam the icy wastes of Valhalla's Veil, their hunger for living flesh insatiable.
Trolls lurk in the surrounding areas, their strength rivaling even the mightiest warriors.
And the great eagles of Hraesvelgr..." He shakes his head, golden armor glinting.
"Pray you do not draw the attention of those mammoth, sky-darkening terrors. "
Fuck. Sounds like this little field trip is gonna be a real walk in the park—if that park was filled with undead assholes, angry giants, and oversized pigeons from hell.
"The likeness you bear to your sister strikes deep," Odin's voice rumbles, his single eye blazing with ancient pride.
"You both possess the same fire in your spirits, that warrior's tongue that fears no god nor giant.
" His piercing gaze shifts to me, a weight of centuries behind it.
"And you, heir of Magni—by the Norns themselves, it is as if my grandson stands before me once more.
The same fire burns in your eyes, ready to shake the very foundations of the Seven Worlds. "
He rises like a mountain stirring to life, power radiating from him. "Rest well this night, for when Sól's golden chariot breaks the veil of darkness, Baldr, Heimdall, and Bryn shall guide you through the paths of Yggdrasil. The road ahead demands strength that only sleep can restore."
Without another word, he strides from the great hall, each step echoing with authority. Even after his departure, the weight of his presence hangs in the air like the aftermath of a storm.
"Where the hell is Loki now?" I demand, focusing on Frigg.
God knows I'd love to run into that slippery bastard on our quest.
"The Trickster vanished like morning mist after his betrayal," Frigg conveys, ancient wisdom dancing in her summer-sky eyes.
"Odin's fury shook the very roots of Yggdrasil itself when he discovered his treachery.
" Her delicate fingers trace patterns on the ancient table as if reading the threads of fate itself.
"With the realms sealed by Elysium's power, Loki's path became hidden even from my sight.
.." She pauses, knowledge and concern mingling in her ethereal features.
"Yet whispers reach us still, carried on winds as old as time—tales of the Serpent's Child weaving his schemes from shadows where even Heimdall's gaze cannot pierce. "
Shit.