The God and the Siren (Loki Romance)

Chapter Thirty-Three

The roof of our tent is bright the following morning, and the outside world is dead silent. The need for a bathroom rouses me slowly, and I sit up in the bed—shuddering at the brisk air cascading over my exposed skin. Nothing I wasn't expecting, though. It was bound to get colder through the night.

I lean over the side of the bed and take my clothes off the floor, throwing the main part of the dress over my body—leaving the shawl behind—and grabbing my coat. The air outside bites as I step out into the coldness. Judging by the damp ground and the glinting surfaces of the trees and tents, it seems it rained at some point during the night as well.

The clouds haven't abated, so I can't tell exactly what time it is—only that it's seriously cold as hell. The chill penetrates my coat bit by bit, and I tremble slightly as I head toward the bathrooms. I suppose I didn't really need to come out here, I didn't need the bathroom that badly. It was more a matter of habit than anything else.

Still, despite the cold, I'm glad I came out here anyway. The festival is just as beautiful as it was the night before, and the Asgardians managed to keep the area remarkably clean. Not a single stray bottle or plate in sight—save for the myriad of near-empty plates still lining the tables all around us.

A sudden movement catches my attention, and I stop, snapping my head to the right—glaring into the empty space between two tents. The shadow was too big to be an animal, and suspiciously quick. I remain frozen in place, waiting for some other giveaway to jump out from behind the bushes.

No movement, but another quiet sound breaks the silence. A chirp? No... Too quiet to be a chirp.

My eyes widen when I realize what it is—ticking. I stumble back as I gasp, preparing to scream out into the quiet space, but a forceful explosion suddenly sends me flying back onto the ground—rolling into someone's tent.

The burst of noise shatters the tranquility from moments before, but I can barely process anything outside the ringing in my ears. My face feels hot, stinging in several places, and I roll over slowly, barely managing to open my eyes. My vision clears slowly as the smoke abates, and the area is slowly filling in with people who'd been slightly further from the explosion. My eyes snap to some movement down the path, where someone jumps out from behind a tree.

Clad in black clothes and a black face mask, he raises a hand up, addressing all the people who've filled into the area, holding a red flag with three white water droplets—the terrorist group. I watch as he drops it on the ground and bolts in the other direction—disappearing into the fog.

Shit, I rub my forehead, trying to steady myself. My fingers slide against the dirt as I sit up slowly, registering the multitude of voices crying in a panic, hearing my name being cried out somewhere. I look around the area in a daze, until Loki appears on the path, wearing his pants and loose undershirt—followed by Sif and Thor.

He falls to a knee at my side. "Are you alright!?" he exclaims, tilting my chin and looking me over intently.

I nod. "Yeah... yeah, I'm fine," I murmur. "Is everyone else okay?"

"Loki!" Thor interjects before he can answer, and Loki turns and glances over his shoulder as he stands.

He looks back at me, kneeling down and again. "Wait here for me, alright?" he says, laying both hands on either side of my face.

I nod my head briskly, and he presses his lips against my forehead before standing, and walking off briskly in Thor's direction.