"Where's Heimdall?" Dani's brow furrows.
Baldr's smile doesn't reach his eyes, a serpentine curve that sets my teeth on edge. Every instinct screams that something's off with this pompous deity. "He awaits our arrival at the Cloud Palaces." He sweeps his arm toward the horizon with theatrical flair. "If you would do us the honor, Lightborn."
Gullfax snorts,stamping his hoof as Dani mutters under her breath, clearly engaged in another battle of wills with the stubborn stallion. She turns to Baldr, frustration evident in her stance. "I need more than just 'Cloud Palaces.' My portals require either firsthand knowledge of the location or a detailed description. Otherwise, we could end up scattered across the seven realms."
"Ah, of course." Baldr says with false humility. "Simply focus on Ásgard itself. We can navigate to the Cloud Palaces once we arrive."
Dani's eyes drift shut, brow furrowed in concentration. The air around her seems to vibrate, the scent of ozone and stardust rising. The space before us ripples, then tears open—a window into another world. Through the shimmering gateway, Ásgard sprawls in breathtaking majesty: emerald fields rolling toward the horizon, crystalline waterfalls cascading from impossible heights, golden spires piercing the clouds like arrows of light.
After witnessing it countless times, watching Dani bend reality still steals my breath. She makes the impossible look effortless, as natural as breathing.
"After you," she gestures, a hint of satisfaction in her voice.
The Cloud Palaces hover upon islands of solidified light, suspended amidst an eternal twilight firmament. Crystalline spires transpierce cotton-candy clouds, with pink, lavender, and gold hues intertwining like an ethereal artist's palette. Cascades of liquid starlight descend from one floating island to the next, their mist creating an endless array of rainbows in the otherworldly luminescence.
The palaces seem carved from living glass and solidified clouds, their walls shifting between opacity and transparency with each passing breeze. Gardens spiral up impossible towers, exotic flowers blooming in mid-air, their petals catching the light like scattered gems. Bridges of pure light arc between the floating sanctuaries, their surfaces rippling like water yet solid as steel beneath our feet.
"Wow." Dani's whisper carries on the ethereal breeze as we traverse the floating gardens, each step taking us closer to the towering glass palace.
Bryn appears ather side, her stride purposeful. "The Cloud Palaces rose from Ragnarök's ashes," she explains, her eyes distant with memory. "When the realm fell, the Aesir gathered what remained of their divine power. They wove it with fragments of broken rainbows and solidified starlight, crafting these sanctuaries among the clouds. Each palace holds a piece of the old realm's soul, preserved in eternal twilight."
Her voice softens. "The gardens sprouted from Freya's tears, they say—flowers that bloom on starlight and need no soil to grow. Each cascade of water flows upward as easily as down, defying laws that bind the lower realm."
"That's incredible," Dani breathes as we ascend the massive stone staircase, each step worn smooth by millennia of divine footfalls. The palace doors loom before us, towering slabs of living crystal that pulse with inner light.
"Who holds dominion here?" Rhyland's question cuts through the ethereal silence, his boots echoing against the luminescent stone.
Bryn's eyes scan the towering palaces above us. "The Cloud Palaces answer to no single ruler. Each palace houses different Aesir families, their powers maintaining the very fabric of this realm. The highest palace belongs to Odin's bloodline, but they serve more as guardians than monarchs. They all share equal standing with their fellow Aesir. It's a delicate balance of power, each family contributing unique gifts to keep these islands afloat and the eternal twilight burning."
She gestures to the shimmering towers around us. "Each palace serves a different purpose—healing, learning, crafting, and more. They work in harmony to preserve what remains of the old ways and foster growth and prosperity for all who dwell here."
We cross the threshold, and my breath catches in my throat. The interior defies even my centuries of existence. Light dances through the translucent walls, casting ever-shifting patterns across floors of polished moonstone.
Columns of solidified clouds spiral upward, their surfaces rippling with internal auroras of blue, silver, and gold.
The grand hall stretches before us, its ceiling merging with the eternal twilight visible through the transparent dome. Floating orbs of pure light drift through the air while staircases of spun crystal curve impossibly upward. Tapestries woven from threads of pure light ripple along the walls, their images shifting and moving as if alive.
"Even the libraries of Alexandria pale compared to this architectural marvel," I observe. "This is... beyond words."
"Indeed, it is a marvel to behold," Baldr agrees, golden strands falling across his brow as he inclines his head. He turns to a young man clad in a finely tailored Nordic suit—a deep blue tunic trimmed with intricate silver knotwork, paired with fitted black trousers and polished boots. "Gorm, would you be so kind as to guide our esteemed guests to their chambers? See that they are provided with all they require."
Gorm smiles, dark eyes sparkling sincerely. "Of course, it would be my pleasure. If you would follow me, please."
The crystal staircase stretches before us, and Bryn ascends several steps ahead. From my position below, every step offers a maddening view of her leather-clad curves. The supple material clings to her ass, the muscles flexing with each upward motion. My fangs ache as I recall how that perfect ass felt in my grip, the weight of her breasts in my hands, how they fit against my palms—the intoxicating scent of her arousal as I explored her with my mouth.
I can almost taste her on my tongue, hear the breathy moans that spilled from her lips, my cock hardens instantly.
As if sensing the heat of my hungry stare, Bryn pivots, her eyes burning into mine. "Enjoying the view, warrior?" Her tone walks the razor's edge between seductive and threatening, a challenge sparking in her gaze.
I clear my throat, forcing my eyes to the shimmering walls. "Yes. This is indeed stunning," I deflect, though the knowing smirk tugging at her lips tells me she's well aware it's not the architecture commanding my attention.
The hallway stretches before us, its walls shimmering. Gorm's smirk suggests he knows exactly what game he's playing. "Two chambers for the four of you," he says, gesturing to the ornate doors. "I trust you can... arrange yourselves accordingly."
Before Rhyland can stake his claim, Bryn's already commandeering one room, dragging Dani with her like a protective mother hen. My brother's mate shoots him an apologetic look, those gold eyes pleading for understanding.
Rhyland's growl is pure frustration. His hand clamps around my bicep as he practically throws me toward the other chamber. "Move your ass," he orders, his tone promising violence. "Apparently, we're having a fucking slumber party."
I stumble into the chamber, catching myself against a wall. Behind me, Dani darts back through the doorway, launching herself into Rhyland's arms. Their lips meet in a heated kiss that has me averting my gaze. Let them have their moment—I've got a bed calling my name and Grave Warden's weight heavy on my back.
