The earth blessed will fight.
The water blessed won’t run.
“Enough,” Odin shouts, projecting the same word telepathically too.
As if his father’s exclamation reminds him, Thunar strikes my back with the whip. I’ve survived being thrown in a volcano—twice. I’ve been in countless fights, including being poisoned by dragon venom. I was held underwater, a storm blessed raking his claws across me and crabs eating my flesh while my body cried out for oxygen. I’m no stranger to pain, but the splash of misery on my back, some of the whip’s shards actually striking my delicate wings, is far worse than I expected it to be.
In spite of myself, I cry out.
The second time he hits me, I whimper louder.
And then, before I can stop him, before I can tell him what a bad idea it is to replay one of Freya’s horrible nightmare sequences, Azar shifts forms. Suddenly, he’s Axel, and he’s the same size as Thunar. Just like Thunar, Axel also shifted with trousers and a belt, but no shirt. Axel’s not as burly, nor quite as tall, and he’s certainly not as brutal as Thunar, but they’re both human.
Which means Axel’s vulnerable.
And Thunar has always hated Axel. Thunar’s devilish smile when he sees Axel walking toward him sends a chill down my spine.
Thunar’s hand tightens on the bull whip. “You’ll do as I ask, now.” He doesn’t even wait for a response. He snaps the whip back and flips it at Axel, scoring his smooth, perfect back. Blood actually spurts out and then continues to dribble down his golden skin.
“No, strike me,” I say. Because if he kills me, they’ll be stuck here, forced to bond humans and protect the earth from the vanir. As bad as Odin is, after seeing the depraved vanir, I still think they’re worse.
Thunar ignores me, though. His whip strikes Axel’s back over and over, his smile steadily growing as the gore on Axel’s back worsens.
“Shift back,” I yell, tears rolling down my cheeks. “Please.” Force them to beat me, because they can’t kill me, or they don’t get what they want.
I can’t watch it. If I switch back, they’ll beat you instead.
Both of us feel the same way. It’s easier to be beaten than to watch the other. But if we relent, if I agree to start shifting the blessed so they won’t need humans to bond, then what? Then they leave the earth, either forcing those of the blessed who bonded humans to kill their bonded humans when they go, or abandoning them to live here with the vanir threatening, slowly attacking as we move further and further south, away from their reach?
I think back to what Freya asked me. Did I want the power to dominate or the strength to endure? I asked for strength to endure, not power to dominate.
I must have chosen wrong.
I should always have chosen the way to win. The way to defeat those who are evil and bad in this world. I’m a warrior. Gullveig might endure. Liz dominates. That’s why Freya was surprised. Right in front of me, I’m watching as Axel endures. . .for love. He stands there and he suffers so I don’t have to.
Because he doesn’t want me to have to suffer as I try to modify the essence of eighty thousand blessed. He doesn’t want his father and their people to abandon my people. He will endure so I don’t have to.
He’s trying to do what’s right.
And it’s killing him.
His back looks like a bloody, fresh version of the hamburger packs they sell at the grocery store, pink chunks of meat, tenderized and ready to cook into tacos.
And Thunar’s laughing about it. “No matter how brave you are, brother, she’s next. Eventually, in this weak form, you’ll die.”
Axel can’t even talk. He just grunts.
In that moment, I soften. The others will fight for us. It might be a losing battle, but we wouldn’t leave humanity entirely alone. Maybe some of the other blessed would choose to stay. Water blessed—earth blessed. I could try to give them different powers instead of the chance to shift. I could power them up and ask them to stay.
One thing I know I can’t do is watch Axel die, one hit at a time, to spare me. I can’t do it any more than I can abandon all the people of earth to the vanir.
There has to be another solution.
Agreeing to slowly shift the blessed will at least buy me more time.
Thunar brings his hand down even harder this time, as if he’s really working into this. When it strikes, Axel cries out, blood from his mouth spattering the ground in front of him. The ground behind him’s already tacky with gore.
“Cry for me, brother. Cry!”
