I bury my face in her neck, breathing in that intoxicating scent that drives me wild—honey and sunshine and pure fucking Dani. "Fuck, I love you. You know that, don't you?" The words rumble from my chest, rough with emotion I can't contain.
"Mmm," she hums, melting back against me as her fingers continue to trace patterns on my forearms. "Let me think... Is it the way you growl when other men look at me? Or maybe it's how you can't keep your hands off me for more than five minutes?" She turns her head, mischief in those sparkling honey eyes. "I love you too, Sexy Fossil Face. More than your ancient ass will ever know."
Her head falls against my shoulder, exposing more of that delectable neck. "Ancient ass, huh?" I growl against her skin, letting my teeth graze that sensitive spot that makes her shiver. "Didn't hear you complaining about my age last night."
"Mmm," she purrs, arching into me like a cat. "Or the other day." Her ass grinds deliberately against my cock, making me hiss. "Though I have to say, for such an old man, your stamina is... impressive."
Fuck. My hands slide up hersides, cupping those luscious tits as she gasps. "Keep talking shit, baby," I rumble, thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples. "See where it gets you."
"Is that a threat or a promise, Thunder Buns?" Despite her teasing tone, she turns her head, her eyes dark with desire. She turns in my arms, water sloshing as she straddles my thighs. Those perfect tits press against my chest as she loops her arms around my neck.
My grip tightens possessively on her hips. "Both." I capture her mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing her sassy comeback as she melts against me. Odin and his fucking evening audience can wait—my mate needs a proper reminder of precisely what this ancient ass can do.
Odin strides into the hall like a thunderstorm, Frigg gliding beside him with ethereal grace. And trailing behind them? Baldr, the golden shitstain himself.
My jaw clenches at the sight of him, molars grinding like millstones. Across the table, Erik's eyes narrow to slits, his hand twitching toward his sword. Bryn's gaze could freeze a lesser man's blood in his veins.
It takes every ounce of self-control not to launch across the table and introduce Baldr's ass to my boot. Repeatedly.
Odin settles into his seat, his presence filling the room like a physical force. "Þakka þér öllum fyrir að mæta." His voice rumbles. "Let me make this clear—Baldr's actions are not to be questioned. He cannot—"
"Baldr lacks the power to engage in direct combat," Frigg interjects, her melodic voice countering Odin's growl. "Ensuring his safety is paramount."
"Precisely." Odin's single eye fixes us with a stare that could make mountains kneel. "His knowledge of the realm is crucial to your quest."
Silence descends, broken only by the collective sound of jaws hitting the floor. Dani recovers first, her eyes wide with mock innocence. "No worries, your godliness." She says with false sweetness."We managed just fine without Prince Charming over there."
Odin drains his mead, either oblivious or ignoring her sarcasm. "Good. Then we understand each other." His gaze shifts to Bryn, something ancient and unfathomable in his eye. "Brynhildr, mitt barn av vinden." His voice softens, heavy with sorrow. "Once my proudest Valkyrie, now grounded by sacrifice. Yet perhaps..." He leans forward, power crackling in the air. "Sometimes we must fall to rise higher. Your new path awaits, dóttir, one written in stars older than my wisdom. Trust your heart's flight—it knows the way."
Bryn inclines her head, a warrior acknowledging her king's words: "Þakka þér, faðir." Her voice is steady, but I catch the slight hitch in her breath.
Under the table, Erik's hand moves, a subtle shift that would go unnoticed by anyone not watching for it. But I see the way Bryn's fingers twitch, the almost imperceptible lean of her body toward his. A silent communication passes between them, a language of touch and breath and heartbeats that speaks louder than Odin's proclamations. In this moment, I clearly understand what the old man means about Bryn's new path.
It's not about wings or battles or destinies written in the stars. It's about finding strength in unexpected places, about forging bonds that even the gods couldn't predict. It's about love, plain and simple. The kind that weathers any storm, that rises from the ashes of what was to build something new and unbreakable.
And from the way Erik's eyes soften as they meet Bryn's, the way her lips curve into the ghost of a smile meant only for him? They're already walking that path, wings or no wings.
Odin's eye fixes on Dani and me. "I have heard of your triumph over my fallen champions. To capture the essence of both Skadi and Vidar?" He smiles, fierce and proud. "Only the true saviors could achieve such a feat."
He tears into a hunk of boar meat, the sound of his teeth rending flesh a reminder of the predator beneath the king's finery. "On the morrow, you will journey to the Elemental Nexus." He swallows, fixing us with a stare. "I trust you are prepared to seize this relic and continue your quest?"
Dani's head bobs up and down like a cork in a storm, her mouth half-full of food. "Mmph, absolutely." She swallows hastily, sun-kissed eyes wide and earnest. "I'm so ready to go home, I'm practically vibrating."
I hide a smirk behind my mead, but I can't disagree. Ásgard may be my ancestral land, the birthplace of my divine blood, but it's not my home. My place is with my chosen family—with Dani, with my brothers. With the ones who stand by me not because of destiny or prophecy, but because of the bonds we've forged through blood, battle, and unwavering loyalty.
I'm ready to get the fuck out of this gold and ice realm and back to the messy, chaotic, beautifully imperfect world we've built together.
Odin's words hang in the air like storm clouds as we finish our meal in tense silence. The mead flows freely—too freely maybe, as I'm ten horns deep and the golden halls have started to blur at the edges. Dani kissed me goodnight ages ago, and Erik fucked off to his chambers, probably face-down in his bed by now. My boots echo against marble as I stumble through corridors that shift and twist.
I find myself in an alcove, staring up at Magni's statue. My father's stone face gazes sightlessly ahead, his nameplate gleaming like an accusation in the torchlight.
"Beautiful craftsmanship, isn't it?"
Fucking hell. I don't even try to hide my eye roll as Baldr materializes beside me, offering another horn of mead. "You look like you could use this."
I snatch it, taking a long pull to avoid conversation. The mead tastes off—sharper, more bitter than before.
"What do you want?" I growl.
