They all look like they just stepped out of a Norse mythology documentary—all furs, shields, and leather that've seen better days. The kind of outfit that screams 'we've been realm-hopping through frozen wastelands and living off dried meat and determination.'
No wonder Dani's ready to commit murder for a decent meal.
The girl has probably been dreaming of Rosa's cooking while choking down whatever passes for food in the land of eternal winter.
Dani's stomach growls loud enough to wake the dead—the sound carries the promise of violence if food doesn't materialize in the next ten minutes.
"Anything."
"Rosa!" I call out, already moving toward the kitchen. "Emergency protocol—Hungry Human! Break out the good stuff—we've got a famished firecracker who hasn't seen proper food in weeks!"
The exhausted group trudges upstairs, their footsteps heavy with too many miles and insufficient rest. As they disappear to freshen up, Rosa materializes in the kitchen like a culinary genie summoned by the promise of hungry stomachs.
"¿Dónde está ese maldito demonio?" she demands, her eyes narrowing. "Where is that damn demon? He better stay out of my kitchen while I cook!"
Ah, Rosa. Always ready to throw down with the forces of darkness, armed with nothing but a rosary, spatula and a fiery temper.
"Relax, Rosalita," I grin, holding my hands in mock surrender. "Brax is currently cosplaying as Captain America in the living room. Your kitchen is a demon-free zone, scout's honor."
"¡Ay, Dios mío! Thatpendejostill owes me three new sauce pans from last week!" She starts pulling ingredients from the pantry like she's arming for culinary warfare. "And tell him if he shape-shifts into Gordon Ramsay again while I'm cooking, I will stuff him with holy water tamales!"
That incident was both hilarious and traumatizing. Who knew demons could hit such high notes?
"Yes, ma'am," I salute, backing away from her domain. "Though you have to admit, his Jamie Oliver impression was spot-on."
She huffs, her expression softening slightly. "Bueno. Now, what do these poor dears need after their little interdimensional road trip?"
Leave it to Rosa to make realm-hopping sound like a weekend getaway gone awry.
"The works, mi amor," I reply, already salivating at the thought of her legendary cooking. "Dani hasn't had a proper meal in weeks, and you know how she gets when she's hangry."
Rosa nods sagely, tying her apron with the determination of a general preparing for battle. "Say no more. I'll whip up a feast fit for a king—or a cranky superhuman, in this case."
God bless this woman and her magical kitchen skills.
"Have I told you lately that you're my favorite person in this madhouse?" I grin, dodging the playful swat she aims at my head.
"Flattery will get you nowhere, mi diablito," she smirks. "Now get out of my kitchen, vampiro! And keep that demon away, or I swear by all the saints..."
Time for a tactical retreat. Even immortals know better than to argue with Rosa on a mission.
Erik
69
Ilead Bryn through Lucian's sprawling mansion, her eyes widening at the sleek modern lines and high-tech amenities. It's a far cry from the ancient stone and rough-hewn wood of Valor's Watch. She trails her fingers along the smooth walls, her steps slowing to take in the foreign wonders.
"Careful, you'll catch Lucian's interior decorator." My lips twitch as she jerks her hand back. "I hear minimalism is contagious."
Bryn snorts, her eyes rolling. "Please. I'd rather catch fleas from Geri and Freki." She eyes a particularly abstract piece of art. "Though this place could use a few more weapons on the walls."
I key in the code to my room, the door swinging open silently—revealing walls lined with weapons—blades, axes, and spears from every era of my long life. Bryn steps inside and freezes, her jaw actually dropping. I'd laugh if I weren't so busy memorizing the look on her face.
"Ved Odin's øye!" Bryn makes a beeline for the weapon wall, her fingers hovering over a rare sword. "Now, this is what I call a collection." Her eyes sparkle with appreciation as she examines the blade. "A man after my own heart."
My lips quirk up, watching her move from weapon to weapon with expert precision. Just hours ago, this fierce Valkyrie had launched herself off a cliff after me, her wings forgotten in that split-second of pure instinct. The memory tightens my chest—her reaching for me, fear blazing in those mismatched eyes as we plummeted together.
Thank fuck for Gullfax. That magnificent bastard had appeared beneath us like golden lightning, snatching us both from death's greedy fingers. Now here she stands, this warrior who'd risk everything to save my sorry ass, admiring my blade collection like a kid in a candy store.
