Chapter Eleven
Hack
“What the fuck just happened?” It may be Slash’s out of breath question, but I don’t need to look around to know we’re all wondering the same damn thing.
For a while there, I had to share my attention between a giant, not-so-friendly furball killing machine trying to decapitate us, and my chosen, who was clearly in a trance, white pupils and all.
My first instinct was to run back to her until I remembered this motherfucker with teeth as long as my femur. Lathuneh was there, doing her job and protecting Dei Hekate’s daughter. I had to concentrate on being the barrier between me and Sage. That was it, that was the job.
And it’s a good thing, too, because we needed all weapons on deck in order to keep the fenrir at bay. We had speed on our side because, clearly, these beasts may be strong as fuck but they lack some serious hand-eye coordination, which is where we excel.
It was on a particularly brutal swipe of his massive paw across my torso that I decided we needed a new strategy.
Once I caught my breath, my ribs working overtime to heal themselves, I ran up behind the beast and slid my way beneath him.
The entire time, I’m shooting dozens of arrows up at its underbelly.
It took him by surprise, giving my brothers the time to jump up on him and stab him in a few good places.
But we weren’t the ones who made him freeze, made him stop all movements with his eyes aimed straight at my chosen.
It was one word. One command. One loud, threatening order that had all of us come to a complete standstill.
As a whole, we turned toward the earth-shaking sound and stared.
Where just minutes ago I’d checked in on Sage, who was wearing ripped up bits of clothing, hair in disarray and a pallor that screamed malnutrition, she was suddenly dressed like some badass superhero from an adventure video game. Knives at her hip and all.
So, yes, Slash’s question is valid and we’re all wondering what the fuck just happened.
Then it hits me.
“Sage just passed the threshold.” Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever experienced joy before because the weight that’s been lifted off my shoulders and the warmth that’s infused the very fabric of my being is nothing short of perfection, pure and unfiltered.
It feels eternal and exponential with every breath I take.
Despite all of this, I’m rooted to the spot.
We all are.
Facing Sage, like an army ready to serve at her feet, we wait. For what, I’m not quite sure. She’s officially a witch, yes, but she’s more than that, isn’t she?
The goddess in her is like a beam of moonlight outlining her silhouette. Everything about her is mesmerizing and calls upon our duty to follow, our duty to fight for her.
“Shit, she’s got the gift of the gods.” Slay’s words ring truer than anything I’ve ever heard. As the daughter of the Dei of Witches, the goddess of witchcraft and magic, of the moon, the night, and the souls that wander the Earth, Sage is in line to, one day, inherit the throne.
It’s unlikely since Hekate will live until the end of time, but the heir to the Dei, she is. Not to mention, we have no idea who her father is, which will probably complicate shit, but that’s a question for another time.
“Hack.” I stand when she beckons me because, no matter how much power she’s just had bestowed upon her, she’s scared and probably feeling out of her depth.
Little does she know that, aside from standing beside her during this transition, there isn’t anything I can do to help her.
And for someone like me, that thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
Make no mistake, I exist to protect and love my chosen, but to do that, I must step back and, at best, watch her transcend into something bigger than all of us combined.
“Satapti.” My chosen one. The air I breathe and the reason I breathe it. “Happy Birthday, my queen.”
I don’t miss the slight, blooming blush at the crest of her cheekbones. The way her eyes soften when I address her. How her body begs her to run to me, leaning in my direction, ready for me to hold her and consume her.
Despite my soul-deep need to make sure she’s all right, to check on her with my own two hands, I go to war with myself and stay rooted in place.
This is her show. This is her moment. She’ll come to me, or I’ll go to her, when the time is right. When she decides.
In my peripheral, I’ve got the fenrir in my sights just in case it has a change of heart and rejects Sage as its master.
If I can anticipate its movements, as slow as they are, I can take advantage of its position and, with the help of my brothers, grab hold of its upper jaw and tear apart its mouth.
Anthros have long believed through legend that there was only one Fenrir, son of Loki and his giantess, Angrboda.
Truth is, they had several—the rumors of their sex lives make Slash look like a fucking altar boy.
When Loki got bored, as he often does, and made it clear to Angerboda that her presence in his bed was no longer wanted, she forced the dark witch, Scarr, to help her get revenge.
From what I’ve heard throughout the centuries, Angerboda couldn’t bring herself to kill Loki herself—not that she could, to be fair—so she had Scarr cast a spell on one of her fenrir to destroy its father.
Plot twist…Scarr wasn’t a fan of threats, so instead of sicking the fenrir on Loki, she aimed it at Odin, which made the god of all Viking gods not only pissed off at Angerboda, but paranoid of dying at the hands of the giant wolf.
To appease him, Loki forbid his fenrir to act out of their own free will or else die at his hands.
Legend has it, Odin tried killing Angrboda a few times but she, like we, had the power of self-healing and kept coming back to life. She finally died when Sutr lit the Earth on fire with his sword.
Scientists today attribute that event to a meteorite crashing on Earth. We all know it was the gods acting out when they were bored. Anthros didn’t invent reality TV, trust me. We’ve been living out the drama for thousands of years.
My guess is, Loki fucked up with his wording and now we’ve got ill-intended creatures out there acting as masters to these beasts, and because they’re compelled to it, fenrir bow down and obey.
Which is exactly what it's doing for Sage.
“Hekate will want to meet with you…” With a furrowed brow, Sashayne’s sentence fades out and I realize it’s because she has no idea how to address Sage.
Pride has my spine straightening to its limits and the corners of my mouth tipping upwards into a smile that feels a lot like a smirk. My chosen has become next level, and because it’s never been seen before, she’s shattered the glass ceiling of supernatural power.
“Sage. Just call me Sage. It’s not like I’m a completely different person.
That would be weird.” When our eyes meet, she shrugs, and it’s telling of how uncomfortable she is with people treating her like she’s somehow better than, more than, other.
“Also, the only place I’m going is home where I can shower, eat, and… ”
So, fuck my good intentions. As far as I’m concerned, that little pause at the end was her telling me it’s time.
I go from standing between Slash on one side and the fenrir on the other, to throwing my fierce and hot-as-fuck woman over my shoulder and heading for the nearest portal. The others can follow or not. I don’t give two fucks, to be honest.
“Zelos! My ass is in your face!”
“Exactly where it should be at all times.” I slap said ass and revel in the squeak that echoes from behind me. “Except for when I’m eating out your pussy, and even then…there are some great positions.”
Using her fists, Sage punches my ass and I grin at her useless attempts. “Put me down, you brute!”
There’s no bite in her words. In fact, she’s laughing, the sound echoing around me, giving me life because she’s here. She’s alive and laughing. Happy. Fucking finally.
When I put her back down, her neatly braided hair is not so neat and her serious, almost shocked expression is not so much either.
Sage is beaming at me but I don’t need a mirror to know my face has intensity written all over it, and when she bites her bottom lip—because she fucking knows what’s brewing behind my eyes—I lose my ability for self-control.
The portal is just feet away but it doesn’t matter. My need to taste her is greater than anything else.
My hands reach out, fingers curling around the two dark braids that fall over her chest and tickle the peaks of her nipples. “Where did you find this outfit, Satapti?” My lips graze the column of her neck until my nose caresses the lobe of her ear so I can whisper for only her.
“I conjured it.” Of course she did.
“How very Lara Croft of you.” She jumps when I dig my teeth into her lobe, letting her know exactly how I feel about the way her skin is in view to every other being with eyes. I’ll now want to scoop them right out of their sockets.
“She was the first badass to come to mind.” With a shrug and a smile so coy it makes my dick harder by the second, she takes a step closer to me so our bodies are flush.
We’re teasing each other, an impromptu choreography of the hearts, where she gives, but not enough for me to take. I lean in and she tilts her head so our lips are no longer aligned for a kiss.
“Did you miss me, Hack?” I love that she calls me my given name, but for some reason, when my demon name whispers off her tongue, it makes a fire burn deep in the recesses of my anthros being.
It calls out to the beast that I keep hidden from her.
Because my love for her should be about my anthros side, my demon is too violent. Too selfish. Too…much.
“It’s a bad idea to tease the Horseman in me.”
Her hand slides down to my cock, hard and fucking aching, then squeezes. I moan and she grins in victory. “Feels like a great idea to me.”