Why did you think I earned such a notorious reputation as the general?
Solveig breathed a sigh of relief. She’d been with males who were intimidated by her power and tried to prove themselves to her. It was exhausting. There was no way they’d be more powerful than her given she was a—
Holy fuck.
Just putting the pieces together now?
“Yes, yes, she’s a demigod.” Thor’s wicked smile curled with a hidden secret. This was the worst part of her father, though not much was good about him to begin with. He was almost always one step ahead, always scheming and plotting.
With the exception of his daughter putting him in a prison of his own making, he’d always had the upper hand.
“Now, back to what I need,” he said. “The problem, my dear Solveig, is that as a fallen god, unless magic is gifted to me, I have none.”
“Isn’t it a bit rude to ask for presents?” Solveig snarked, causing Thor to laugh.
“I haven’t cared about being rude my entire existence, and it seems I have passed that trait on to you. It does have to be gifted, but not freely. So you see, I can force you to give it. But that would not be so good for you.”
Solveig and Westley stood tall, bracing themselves for whatever he was about to say or do next. She tried to steel her heart, but she could not get Gerrie’s betrayal out of her mind, the look in her eyes.
Forgive me, Solveig.
Forgiveness. So much easier said than done.
Under all the emotions of Gerrie’s betrayal she knew there had to be some reason, some cause for the people closest to her to make decisions like this. First Laeknir, now Gerrie. None of it made any sense.
Knowing the reason wouldn’t make the sting of betrayal hurt any less.
Thor’s fingers sparked, but not with lightning—with a dark power, reminding Solveig of Ragnvald. She narrowed her eyes.
“We had it wrong,” Solveig whispered.
“What?” Westley asked, looking between her and her father.
“Your kind usually does,” Thor said with a sigh. He seemed content to let Solveig talk, apparently in no rush to steal her magic.
“We thought Thor would know how Ragnvald is getting magic, how to stop him. We thought he was the key.”
“Yes, a good thought. I do have the pulse of this realm under my fingertips.” His fingers disappeared into shadows. A yawning darkness woke inside Solveig at the sight.
“Ragnvald is working for you. Collecting realms and magic for you,” she accused.
“Almost, daughter, almost. You see, Ragnvald is too greedy to truly work for me, as you put it. But he was easy enough to manipulate.”
“How did you trick him?” Westley asked.
“I simply told him I would make him a god.” Thor’s eyes twinkled with mischief.
“You can’t do that,” Solveig said.
“You are very intelligent, daughter. I am proud.”
“Keep your pride,” she spat back.
“So if he can’t be turned into a god ...” Westley trailed off.
“He’s a vessel for magic. He’s out there running around conquering all the royal families, keeping himself busy and amassing power. For me.”
Solveig laughed, big and full, at the utter preposterousness of the situation.
