She laughed. A low and melodic sound that sent a shiver down his spine. Not a laugh meant for show or politeness; it was genuine, warm in a way that made him want to hear it again to see if it would feel as good the second time.
“Well, I’m glad I am not your millionth conquest this decade.”
“Have I conquered you then?” he teased.
Her smile widened- a real smile now- and for the first time since approaching her, some of the tension left his body. Maybe he wasn’t hopeless after all.
“Sadly, it takes a lot more than getting me a mug of mead and helping me out of a house and down some steps for me to be conquered.”
“A lot more?”
“Yes. After all, what kind of lady do you think I am?”
All he focused on was her. The way her presence filled every empty space around him as though she belonged there. The way her eyes invaded him while her words remained teasing.
A moment passed. Then another, and finally her cheeks burned a beautiful shade of rose.
“So,” she said. “Are you going to keep staring at me? Or is there something you came here to say?”
He blinked, startled back to reality.
"I... I'm glad you made it back safe last night," he blurted.
What the hell was going on? That’s not what he wanted to say.
"Thank you." She folded her hands in front of her and shivered.
"Are... are you cold?" Without thinking, he ran his hands up her bare arms, making them pebble.
Their gazes connected, and something inside him moved. A piece of him he'd buried away. One he'd sworn he'd never allow out again. A part of him he'd thought he'd lost under the years and years of fighting and killing and drinking. But somehow, the beautiful, timid creature brought that piece of him back from the brink of death.
She dropped her gaze to where his hands rested on her arms. "Why... does it feel like that when you touch me?"
"I don't know. Has it never happened to you before when someone touched you?"
She shook her head. "I've only ever been touched by two other people. Val and... someone else. And neither of them ever made my skin feel like embers were burning from underneath it."
Thor swiped his calloused thumb over her skin and waited for it to burst into flames.
"Where did you come from?" he asked.
"You're a god. And you have children of your own, so I'm told. I would think you'd know where babies come from."
He caught the tickle of a smile cross her lips again. "Is that a joke? Did you make a joke?"
She chuckled.
"You know what I mean. Where were you before you came here? Why did you decide to come to Midgard?"
She shrugged. "I'd never been. I wanted to see what it was like. Wanted to see what humans were like. I'd heard many tales of them throughout my life. I wanted to see for myself. Why did you move to Helheim?"
"Valhalla grew boring. I was restless. Centuries of fighting aren't erased because you go to paradise." He lifted a strand of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers.
"Why are you doing that?"
He peered into her bright eyes. "Do you want me to stop?"
Her eyebrows scrunched together. "I... I'm not sure."
