"Can't two warriors share a drink?" His perfect smile makes me want to introduce it to my fist. "Though I must say, the show you put on at the ball the other night was far more... entertaining."
The horn freezes halfway to my lips. "What the fuck did you just—?"
"Oh, you know." He examines his nails, casual as discussing the weather. "When you had your mate pressed against the wall. The way she fell apart around your cock was quite... spectacular."
Red bleeds into my vision. It was this piece of shit who watched? Watched her intimate moments meant only for me?
"Tell me," his voice dropslike venomous honey, eyes gleaming with malevolent mischief, "does she always scream quite so... enthusiastically when you claim that tight little ass of hers? Or was that performance just for my benefit?" His smile pisses me off. "Such a responsive little thing. Makes one wonder how she'd react to arealgod's touch."
"You son of a bitch." My muscles coil as I swing, ready to remove his fucking head—
The room tilts violently. My knees buckle as the alcove spins like a carnival ride from hell. Baldr's golden form stretches, darkens, and transforms. In his place stands a taller figure, cloaked in shadows. His horned helm gleams with unholy light, black as the depths of Unbra. His smile is a slash of white in the darkness, cruel and sharp as a blade.
"Allow me to introduce myself properly." His voice slithers like oil on water. "Loki, God of Mischief, at your service."
What the fuck?
I try to speak but my tongue feels wrapped in wool, my mind swimming in a toxic haze.
"Ah yes, that would be the mistletoe extract." He examines an empty vial with theatrical interest. "The same herb I used to orchestrate dear Baldr's demise. Such a delightfully toxic little plant." His laughter ripples like black silk. "Poor, precious Frigg—so desperate to protect her golden boy that she made every plant and creature swear an oath never to harm him. But she forgot onetinydetail." His eyes gleam with cruel satisfaction. "One insignificant little plant she deemed too young to swear. Such afataloversight for her beloved son." He tilts the empty vial, watching it catch the light. "Though I must admit, it won't kill you like it did him. No, no—you're made of... hardier stock. Just enough to keep you... compliant."
He grabs my arm, his touch burning cold like frost-bite. Reality shreds apart at the seams—we're moving through darkness, through nothing, through everything. My stomach heaves as colors and sensations assault me from all sides.
"Consider this a lesson in mythology, Commander," his voice echoes through the void. "Sometimes the oldest poisons are still the most effective. Even demi-gods can fall to a simple plant... when wielded by the right trickster."
We materialize on a cliff beside a frozen lake, my legs giving out entirely as Loki produces heavy chains from nowhere. "Welcome back to Valor's Watch." The metal bites into my flesh as he works, my limbs too heavy to fight back. "The wards are up," Loki purrs, tightening the chains. "Your precious mate won't hear a thing."
My mind screams at my body to move, to fight, but the bullshit poison he slipped me has turned my muscles to lead. The chains wrap around me like serpents, cold and unforgiving. My powers—the ones that could level a fucking mountain—stay locked away, as frozen as my traitorous body.
"Sweet dreams, Commander of Dark Skies." His grin splits the night. "Try not to drown too quickly."
He shoves me backward. I fall and fall until ice water hits like a thousand knives. The chains drag me down as my body locks up, refusing to fight. Water floods my lungs with the first involuntary gasp, each spasm bringing fresh agony.
As darkness creeps in, one thought burns brighter than the pain.
"Dani."
Gods,please...
Then there's nothing but the cold, dark, and endless drowning cycle I know is to come.
Lucian
59
Right. Because my night wasn't already a supernatural shit-show. Now I've got a baby vamp with bubblegum hair to deal with.
"Everyone stay still!" I bark, moving faster than Damon's lovesick ass can react. "No sudden movements, unless you want to be tonight's juice box."
I shift my stance subtly, angling my body to create a living shield between Sable and Seraphina. Her breath comes in quick little puffs against my back, but she's holding it together like a champ.
Emily's still sprawled on her ass, looking like she just witnessed the second coming of Pink Jesus. Seraphina's wings are now practically strobing with divine light—hello, migraine—and Brax is doing his best impression of a demon who's seen too much.
"Sable," I keep my voice steady, like talking to a spooked horse with very sharp teeth. "Focus on my voice. The hunger you're feeling? That's normal. But if you eat Emily, you'll feel really bad about it later."
Her head snaps to me, andholy shit—those eyes. Black as midnight with a ring of electric blue.That'snew. Most of us get the standard-issue red-and-black combo, but apparently Little Miss Pink decided to go custom.
"That's it, Bubblegum. Eyes on me. Though maybe ease up on the 'I'm-going-to-eat-your-face' look. It's not your best angle."
