Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Maybe I was meant to break for her all along.
Thunder rolls, rattling the windowpanes, as if the world itself knows what’s happening.
I flip us, bracing her beneath me, my forehead pressed to hers as I reach for a condom, slip it on.
“This is right,” I whisper, because it feels like the truth. “Us.”
Her answer is a kiss so hungry, so affirming, I could come apart right there.
And then her breath is catching as I slide into her, and everything else ceases—no runes, no Gods, no betrayals.
The world could burn, and I’d still choose this.
I’d still choose her.
She moves with me, like the storm’s rhythm belongs to us alone. Every kiss I brand down her throat is answered with a shudder and a gasp, her body clenching around me and the thunder outside faltering like even the storm can’t keep up with our pace. She claws at my back, running her nails down either side of the runes. With a cry, I sink farther into her, losing myself to the rhythm, feeling her body grow taut, her legs and arms wrapping tighter around me.
When it happens—when we both finally let go—it’s not just release. It’s annihilation. The house rattles. The lights blow out. Outside, the music cuts off mid-beat. The whole world goes dark because of us and the intense sensations racking my entire body.
Because of our bond.
“That’s…not normal.” Rey’s laugh is breathless, wrecked, beautiful.
“No.” I sigh, brushing her damp hair back, pressing a lazy kiss to her temple. “Maybe next time we just start with the lights off.”
Her laugh bubbles again, softer this time, as she curls her arms around me. “Yeah. Good call.”
But the thunder still shakes the walls. Too loud. Too constant. And I know—I can’t control it. I also start to hear voices, lots of them, weaving up from downstairs. The storm’s clearly brought the party back inside.
“Bathroom?” she asks finally.
I nod toward the door. “Through there. Connected to my game room, where I keep all the fun stuff.”
“Nerd.” She slips out of bed and throws on a sweatshirt, giggling when she smacks into the wall before finding the switch. Light spills from the game room, warm and yellow against the dark.
Minutes pass, but she doesn’t come back.
“Rey?” I call. My chest tightens when I don’t hear her voice. I drag myself out of bed, still raw, still undone, then throw on some boxer briefs and stalk toward the bathroom.
I freeze.
Sitting in the corner of my game room, right next to my shelf of manga like it’s always belonged there—like I fucking put it there myself—is the cow. Audhumla. The cosmic cow, Ymir’s nurse, carved in stone, her ridiculous horns gleaming beneath the light.
“What the hell—” My throat closes. “That’s supposed to be in his office. I didn’t bring it here.” It’s ugly as hell and freaks the shit out of me.
Rey’s leaning against the farthest wall, arms crossed. “But that’s definitely it, right? Who would have put it in here? This seems too easy.”
“You’re right,” I admit. “But let’s not look a gift cow in the mouth. We got what we came here for.”
She doesn’t look at me. But her whole body is tense. Then suddenly, she thrusts her hand toward me.
“Bite me.”
“What?” My stomach lurches.
“Bite me, Giant. I mean that literally. We can’t exactly go grab a kitchen knife right now with everyone inside.”
Gods. It’s like the command itself threads through my blood. I know it’s out of necessity, but still. The second her wrist brushes my lips, I’m gone. My teeth sink deep. Her blood floods my mouth—alive, scorching, intoxicating. The monster in me roars awake, clawing for more, hungering for freedom.
She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t break eye contact. She pulls her hand away and slaps it against the rune on Audhumla. Her blood.
I want to stop, but it’s like whatever she awakened won’t be contained. In the next breath, I slice my teeth along my palm and slam it over the rune.
Othala flares.
The burn rips through me, searing down my spine, but it’s not just fire this time.
The world blinks out. My vision goes black.
And then—
I’m there.
At the beginning.
“Odinfather,” the voice whispers in my ear.
Another battlefield, the hammer flying across a bridge and into a giant fist. A man larger than the people huddled around him praying.
They’re covered in frost, and they’re moaning, crying out in loss, crying out for the hammer to avenge them.
The moment the weapon hits his hand, five of them die at his side like a sacrifice. His face is blurred, but he turns, and suddenly he’s in the basalt archway like he came through a portal.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It must be done.” Several others appear beside him. An infant and a few people in strange costumes, swords and arrows strapped to their backs. Everyone is covered in blood.