Solveig whipped out her magic and forced her mate back, throwing up an invisible wall to keep him away. Her magic was winning the battle inside her as she began using Thor’s magic against him.
His grip was weakening, and soon Solveig would be able to overpower him—but not if she had to worry about her mate getting hurt in the crossfire.
Solveig!he called to her.
She was about to answer when Thor shimmered again and the handsome god’s face began to change. His features rippled, melting like the frozen cream dessert she used to eat in the palace as a witchling.
“What—”
Solveig gasped, attempting to take a step back, but in her shock, her magic stopped fighting and she was gripped again by her father’s power.
Her father’s face and body morphed. Losing its glamour.
Long blond hair turned short and black, so dark it absorbed the light around him. His black eyes pierced Solveig, calling to the darkness. Her darkness.
The darkness she was born with.
“Surprise,” he whispered.
Not Thor.
A feline grin spread across his face.
Loki.
Westleyslammedhisfistagainst the shield.
Solveig’s shield.
She had shut him out to keep him safe, but fuck that. Horror drenched his body as the vision of Thor, bloody Thor, the god of thunder, washed away to reveal a pale-skinned god—tall and lean, his dark hair like shadows in the light.
He physically felt the whiplash of each revelation.
The gods he’d believed in were alive but powerless.
Solveig was the daughter of Thor.
His grandfather was controlled by Thor.
But not Thor.
Loki.
Fucking Loki, the god of mischief, of darkness and shadows. The only god whose death was celebrated, considered a blessing of Ragnarök.
The trickster god pulled Solveig towards him, gripping her with an invisible force. Westley had felt her struggle with the shadows, but now that she’d blocked him, he couldn’t feel her, let alone help her.
Westley lost it, his magic swelling under his skin. He tried desperately to wield it, to break her shield, but it was no use. He wasn’t strong enough to help her.
Hel was not a place for magic. The fact that he could feel it at all showed how much the realm was changing under the influence of a god.
Westley’s mind spun with panic, dizzy with thoughts of everything he could lose. But he shoved the terror down deep—he’d be of no use to her if he continued to spiral.
One thing was for certain—he would not allow Solveig to be taken. She would not be held captive again.
He tried to break through over and over again, to no avail. Sweat dripped down the sides of his face as he channelled all his power into breaking free, all the while never taking his eyes off Solveig and her father.
Loki spoke so quietly Westley could barely hear, straining to listen. He’d wait for an opening, for one of them to slip up. The panic clawed at his heart, refusing to stay buried.
