She reared her head back before their lips could meet. “The next time?”
“You don’t think we’re going to start a war without encountering any more brushes with death, do you?”
“We did not start this war. Your dear old grandfather did.”
It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Speaking of that bastard, is he here?”
“I’m not sure. But if you’re okay to stand, we need to get going.”
“I just need one more thing.”
He pulled her face back to his and kissed her fiercely. Her relief at finding him, at him being alive finally escaped as his mouth met hers. That consolation bled through their bond and in return she felt his love surge towards her like a wave, mixing with his relief at her relative safety.
Their bond.
“Did you feel that?” she asked, her eyes widening.
“Our magic likes it when we kiss. Maybe we should ...” He let the sentence trail off with a waggle of his eyebrows. Solveig snorted.
“You know that’s not going to happen, first and foremost because we’re in literal Hel right now. Completing our mating bond wouldn’t exactly help maintain cover.”
“Why not? I can be quiet,” he said, bringing her mouth close to his.
“I don’t want to be quiet,” she whispered, dropping the tenor of her voice. His eyes darkened. “When we mate, West, I want to be able to scream.”
“I fucking adore you,” he said, resting his forehead against hers as she chuckled softly.
Solveig breathed him in for a few moments before sighing and pulling away. “We have to go.”
Westley nodded and they got to their feet. Solveig supported him when his legs still shook from the effects of the lake.
She wanted to ask, but not here—not while he was still clearly haunted by what happened. It was in his eyes, in the hollow planes of his face. She wouldn’t push, not yet.
They made their way back up the steep hill. Solveig told him about the spirits and the beings of her people and how they’d ledher to him.
He didn’t look angry at the revelation, only nodded. She asked if he remembered anything after he fell into the water, but he just said he saw her light and then woke up in the cavern.
When they reached the top of the hill, they were both heaving from the exertion. Solveig caught most of her breath first.
“So, where to?” he asked, still huffing.
“The deepest part of Hel.”
“Fantastic. How do we get there?”
“To be honest, I’m not sure.”
Solveig kept her eyes focused ahead of them, wondering if her people would be there and if they were a danger to Westley. She couldn’t tell if they’d sent her to the lake to watch him die or to save him. She looked around but saw no signs of the spirits.
“Do we just start wandering around Hel until you recognize something?” Westley asked.
“Do you have a better idea?”
“I really hate it when you ask me that.”
Solveig didn’t like it any more than he did—not having a direction to go, no faster way to cover ground than walking. She missed Helle and wondered if she and Njord had gotten to Asgard safely. It made no difference, she knew, but she sent a prayer to the gods anyway.
Just in case.
