I know, and I’m so sorry I can’t be more forthcoming. Trust that everything I’ve told you is true.
But you’ve left things out.
Because I had to.
Westley nodded, his apprehension lingering. He leaned his forehead against hers.
How amazing would it be if the hammer was real?he asked, some of the tension between them easing.
It would be incredible. It’s a lot bigger than Booth’s hammer, she quipped.
That’s true. You’d be unstoppable.She could see the awe and love in his eyes.
Only if I could wield it.
“Do you think you could?” A deep voice rumbled from the darkness of the cave, making Westley and Solveig jump, hands flying to their weapons.
Chains rattled alongside heavy footfalls. A figure came to stand right at the fringes of the shadows.
“Do you think you could wield it, Solveig Tordottir?” the voice asked again.
Solveig dropped to one knee, Westley immediately following suit as an ethereal being came into view.
Larger than a Giant, her father stood tall, his head almost scraping the ceiling of the prison. His thick blond hair was matted into braids, a film of dirt coating his skin. Muscles bulged through the rags he wore—the same clothing that Solveig had last seen him in.
Plain clothes not befitting his stature.
His feet were bare as he stepped out of the shadows, the rays from the ceiling reaching towards him.
Unmistakable even with the state of his appearance, he turned his face to greet the light. Solveig risked a glance at Westley to see his eyes widen with recognition.
Thor.
“You have brought me the sun, daughter.”
Westley’s head whipped towards her. He’d find little resemblance between them—only the shape of her face. Her father’s colouring was deeper than hers, golden, even in the dark.
“I have waited quite some time for your return,” he said before his gaze fell on Westley. Her father inhaled, breathing in their scents. “And you brought your mate, though you have not yet bonded.”
“Yes, Father,” she said, bowing her head.
“A strong Fae male. I am proud.” There was no affection in his golden eyes.
Solveig refused to let that irritate her. “Thank you.”
What’s going on?Westley asked, his mind racing with trepidation he wasn’t able to hide from her.
Please trust me, she replied.
“He should not trust you,” Thor boomed, inserting himself into their private conversation. How he was doing that, Solveig didn’t know.
“Why not? She’s my mate,” Westley finally spoke, his emotions swelling.
He was wary, but not of her.
“She did not tell you who I am.”
Westley scoffed and Solveig stiffened. “She was bound, I presume, by you.”
