Chapter 89
Westley slammed his fist against the shield.
Solveig’s shield.
She had shut him out to keep him safe, but fuck that. Horror drenched his body as the vision of Thor, bloody Thor, the god of thunder, washed away to reveal a pale-skinned god—tall and lean, his dark hair like shadows in the light.
He physically felt the whiplash of each revelation.
The gods he’d believed in were alive but powerless.
Solveig was the daughter of Thor.
His grandfather was controlled by Thor.
But not Thor.
Loki.
Fucking Loki, the god of mischief, of darkness and shadows. The only god whose death was celebrated, considered a blessing of Ragnarok.
The trickster god pulled Solveig towards him, gripping her with an invisible force. Westley had felt her struggle with the shadows, but now that she’d blocked him, he couldn’t feel her, let alone help her.
Westley lost it, his magic swelling under his skin. He tried desperately to wield it, to break her shield, but it was no use. He wasn’t strong enough to help her.
Hel was not a place for magic. The fact that he could feel it at all showed how much the realm was changing under the influence of a god.
Westley’s mind spun with panic, dizzy with thoughts of everything he could lose. But he shoved the terror down deep—he’d be of no use to her if he continued to spiral.
One thing was for certain—he would not allow Solveig to be taken. She would not be held captive again.
He tried to break through over and over again, to no avail. Sweat dripped down the sides of his face as he channelled all his power into breaking free, all the while never taking his eyes off Solveig and her father.
Loki spoke so quietly Westley could barely hear, straining to listen. He’d wait for an opening, for one of them to slip up. The panic clawed at his heart, refusing to stay buried.
What if he failed?
The answer was easy. If he failed and Loki took Solveig, he’d amass a fucking army and drown the world to find her.
Solveig’s voice cut through his racing thoughts.
“How?” she breathed, her eyes still wide with shock. She’d stopped struggling when Loki revealed his true nature.
Fight, Solveig, fight back, he urged, though she couldn’t hear him.
“Again, simple. It is truly boring sometimes, outsmarting everyone,” Loki said with a sigh.
“After Ragnarok, most of the Aesir had perished, like the prophecies foretold. But Thor, bless his little heart, Thor saved the universe at the last second, even as my beloved wolf attacked, throwing his little hammer and tying the essence of the universe to it.”
Westley absorbed the information. Was it true, or more falsehoods?
Loki continued. “He didn’t realize that his spell would steal the power from each god and goddess who remained alive at the end.
Without our magic, we were not susceptible to the end of gods—we’d fallen from grace, tied to this new world.
It is our magic that fuels your lands, our magic that was taken from us. ”
Solveig’s eyes widened at the revelation. Westley desperately wanted her to drop the shield, to let him help her. He pleaded with his eyes.
“Only blessed Thor retained his power,” Loki spat, clearly still bitter.
“Once the dust settled and we realized what had happened, he rallied the other living gods and goddesses to follow him. As the sole Aesir left with magic, he ruled the world, everyone bowing to him. I simply could not have that. I bided my time, learning that I could steal my own power back from the land itself.” Loki smirked, pride emanating from his sullen face.
“Ever wonder why Midgard doesn’t have any magic? Because of the weakness of that pathetic race, the realm succumbed to me. Not even Thor could save his precious mortals, not when he had no idea what I was up to. He never had before.
“The other realms were more difficult, better protected. With Idavoll’s newest religion, the gods and goddesses were being powered again, and I realized why. Prayers were gifting the magic back. That’s when the idea struck me, and I whispered in Ragnvald’s ear.”
Westley swallowed hard. This war wasn’t about the realms at all—it was a fucking consequence of Ragnarok. A game of the damned gods that had begun the moment this new Yggdrasil had formed.
Loki continued his monologue like he had all the time in the world. Westley’s gaze was locked on Solveig’s as they listened to her father.
“Thor always had a soft spot for me, so it was easy to convince him that I had remained powerless. He believed that no one would pray to me and took pity on me. Fool. I wasn’t sure it would work, but I gave it a try. What would happen if one god prayed to another?”
“You made him pray to you?” Solveig asked.
Loki’s grin was wicked. “Yes. But I couldn’t hold it.”
“It was too powerful for you?”
“No!” Loki boomed. “Thor’s magic is my opposite, and this weakened body couldn’t hold both powers at once. I had to place it into someone in hopes that they would gift it back when I found a way to wield it.
“It took a while—even the other Aesir, and I realized why. His magic was too powerful because it was pure. He’d never lost it like the rest of us had. The person who held it had to be extraordinary, untouched by Ragnarok.
“The Aesir had vowed not to make any offspring as we were unsure what the repercussions would be. Most of us are greedy, and we didn’t know if we would lose power to our spawn. Little did they know, I had already tested the theory when I tried to find someone to give Thor’s magic to.
“The offspring I created with each race did nothing to quell my power. But the little mutts couldn’t hold Thor’s power, so they were of little use to me.
“Knowing none of the Aesir would let me impregnate them, I had to muster enough of my magic to transform into Thor and make a goddess sleep with me. It took a few tries, but eventually I was successful.”
Loki paused dramatically to let that sink in. Westley’s hands dropped to his side, barely able to stand as his knees buckled.
Not a demigod.
Holy fucking shit.
“No,” Solveig breathed. “My mother was Vanir.”
“In a way, yes,” Loki said, his eyes twinkling.
It was obvious he’d held this in for centuries—millennia, even—and it was all pouring out. He had a captive audience and was milking it for every second of attention, like he needed someone to finally witness his brilliance.
“She didn’t have much magic at the time, only Sight, so she’d been able to live a normal life. Well, as normal as it could be as the strongest Seer to ever live. But Frigg was happy in the life she’d made for herself.”
Frigg.
Holy fucking shit.
That’s why Koa’s Sight was so strong. She was a bloody demigod, daughter of Frigg.
And Solveig was . . .
“Yes, you are the daughter of two gods,” Loki said, delight evident in every word he spoke. “I went to Frigg as Thor and bedded her until you were conceived—my little treasure.
“I sent the magic into Frigg when I impregnated her, hoping it would take root in our spawn. I gave you Thor’s power to hold, gifted it to you, and you took it beautifully. I watched you grow and train, and then when I came to you, centuries ago, to ask for it back, you said no.”
Loki’s triumphant demeanour turned to rage as he stared at his daughter.
“You became mistrustful of me—as did the other Aesir. My carefully laid plans, plans I’d orchestrated for thousands of years, were unravelling. The magic I was syphoning from Idavoll slowed as the Fae began to doubt, their belief in our lies waning until you trapped me.”
During his speech, Westley watched with bated breath as Solveig tried to break free. He saw it in the concentration on her face—she was building her magic inside to be able to blast through. He knew because that’s exactly what he was trying to do.
“And I am tired of waiting, daughter.” He dragged her closer. “You will give me Thor’s magic,” he demanded.
“What happened to Thor?” Solveig whispered.
“Oh, I killed him,” Loki said with a wave of his hand.
“Without his power he could do nothing, and my wolf finally got to tear him apart. I have been living as Thor ever since. But it does come at a cost—the power it takes to keep up this transformation.” He briefly wore Thor’s mask again before his sallow face replaced it.
“This whole time,” Solveig breathed.
Her disbelief filtered through Westley’s mind and he jolted, realizing what that meant—her shield was weakening.
He might actually have a chance.
“Yes, yes, this whole time it was me, the puppet master. It is a relief to finally get the recognition I deserve.”
Solveig spat in his face.
Loki laughed. “Will you change your name, Solveig Tordottir? Solveig Lokidottir has a much nicer ring to it, don’t you think?”
He laughed again, cold and cruel. A chill raced down Westley’s spine.
Loki would rip that power right from Solveig if he had his way, but he hadn’t been able to yet—she was stronger than he thought. The power may have been Thor’s, but it belonged to Solveig now. It answered to her, and both males knew she wouldn’t give it up without a fight.
And that was exactly what Westley was worried about.
“Now, daughter, let’s have it,” Loki said. Without warning, he struck her with his shadows. The tendrils formed hands as they disappeared into her body.
“SOLVEIG!” Westley yelled. She fought against the shadows as Westley slammed his shoulder into the shield. The shield she had fortified again. Stubborn witch.
Stubborn goddess.
Loki appeared amused at Solveig’s fight, like he’d been expecting it, hoping for it. The god winked at him. Fucking winked and began to disappear into shadow, taking Solveig with him.
“NO!” Westley banged on the shield. “NO!”
She looked back with pain in her eyes—a silent goodbye.
“SOLVEIG, PLEASE!” he bellowed. “DROP YOUR SHIELD!”
I’m sorry. Her tone said everything. She was resigned to this fate.
“No, Solveig, please!” Westley dropped to his knees, pounding his fist against the shield until his skin cracked and bled. He pushed his magic with every ounce of strength he had to fight for her. A tidal wave appeared, crashing into the barrier, reverberating off it.
He sent it again and again until his clothes were soaked through, but he didn’t care.
You have to stop, she said, her voice struggling. That gave him hope—he was weakening her shield.
I will not let him take you, he vowed.
Loki halted his escape, cocking his head to the side, watching Westley’s display of power.
He will not break me, she said.
He will not get the chance, he replied, renewing his onslaught. His magic surged, alive—his mate was about to be taken from him and he could not let that happen.
Only you can break me, West, she said with a sad smile. Loki’s eyes lit up.
Another blast of Westley’s power broke through the shadowed bands holding the remainder of his magic at bay. Her shield was no match for the tsunami of power he unleashed, breaking through at last. Westley stumbled through the broken barrier, rushing towards her.
Loki’s shadows wrapped around his body, bringing him to his knees.
“No!” she cried.
“Interesting,” Loki muttered.
“Take me instead,” he said to Loki, still heaving from the exertion of breaking the Block.
“No!” Solveig’s protest went unheard. She was trying desperately to free herself from Loki to no avail.
“Your power is great, Prince of the Sea, but it is not the one I want.”
“It’s better than nothing. She will not give you hers, but I will gift you mine,” he vowed, bowing his head.
“Westley!” Solveig shrieked, her magic fighting to break loose.
Loki laughed, throwing his head back as the sound boomed through the wet cavern. “You are a fool.”
Westley’s heart clenched. He was failing. He couldn’t fail her, not again.
But when Loki spoke, with that twinkle returning to his eye, Westley didn’t know what to make of it.
“I accept.”
“NO!” Solveig bellowed.
Loki vanished from her side, reappearing beside Westley. The god wrapped his large hand around his arm in a grip so tight, he couldn’t move. Not that he dared to. He’d done it. He had saved her.
Solveig let out a blast of light directed right at Loki, but he banished it easily. She was weakened from the struggle.
“I control the shadows of Hel, daughter. Now, say goodbye to your mate.”
“Never,” she vowed. Her copper eyes danced like fire. The intensity of her stare held Westley’s entire soul. He only had eyes for her as she wielded another bolt of lightning and thunder shook the realm. Thor’s thunder.
Solveig’s thunder.
His soul purred in response.
I’ll love you even after my last breath, he whispered into their bond.
“I will find you,” she vowed, sending the threat to her father.
“I’m counting on it.” Loki laughed, and the sound was so sinister that the victory Westley thought he’d won sank low, his stomach churning.
Solveig’s scream rang in Westley’s ears as his lungs breathed in Loki’s shadows. The last thing he saw before the shadows took him was his mate on her knees, tendrils of lightning covering her entire body as she roared.
But her light did not reach him—only her last words.
I love you.