After a steamy encounter with Asgard's Dark Prince unlocks her genetics, an unsuspecting scientist discovers not only are Gods real, she is one.
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When Shannon boards her flight to London, she's stunned her seatmate is actor Tod Mogroddine. Their...
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Fucking hell. That's what this was. Hell. I'd been to Helheim, and while some of it was nice, other parts were your worst nightmare. Shannon closing the bond with me wasn't my worst nightmare, although it was close. The distance between us had me panicking. I was losing her. But she refused to talk about it. Yesterday, I'd tried when I found my pillow on the couch in our rooms after returning from filming.
Reluctantly, I'd slept on that damned couch, tossing and turning the entire time.
This morning, I'd again tried to talk to her, and when that failed, to kiss her. Shannon had stood there like a statue, not responding. That scared me down to the depths of my soul. Yggdrasil's roots, but I'd rather have her anger, have her yell at me, than have her be indifferent. If she truly didn't care, it was a death knell to our relationship.
For a soulmate to feel that way about their partner was... bloody hell, was it even possible?
With the bond closed, I had no way of knowing for sure.
Surely this wasn't just over the girls' weekend? Was she that upset about losing her career? Did she blame me?
I wracked my brain as I paced back and forth in our rooms, eyes drawn to that damn pillow on the couch.
Of course I knew she was annoyed I'd made a bad assumption about her going to Vancouver on her own, but this had to be a deeper issue. It had to be. I tugged at my hair.
Shannon had been angry with me before, but not like this. Never like this... except, the only other time she'd been this upset—closing the bond—had been when I fumbled explaining her new reality after her transition.
I stopped in my tracks, heart pounding. That had been about her career, too.
With the change in her circumstances, I thought she'd adapted to new priorities. But maybe her career was still more important than I'd realized. Lots of women on Midgard were mothers with careers. Given how much she had to learn, she hadn't really embraced her royal family duties to Asgard yet.
Had I pushed her to take on those responsibilities?
I started pacing again, kicking at the floor.
No, I didn't think so.
Instead, I'd focused on helping her develop her fighting skills—her battle, weapons, and monster knowledge. Those critical skills were the first priority right now to make sure she was safe. That they were both safe.
Staying in Asgard was the best way to ensure that. Norns, I just needed her to be safe.
Unbidden, the memory surfaced before I could halt it. Sigyn blue eyes blank with death, mouth still open in a soundless scream. Her blond hair sticky and streaked with darkest red in a halo around her ravaged, bloody body. The story of her suffering told in the bruises, bitemarks, and foul fluids polluting her nakedness. And the last final insult of her womb raggedly slashed open with our daughter's tiny dismembered form cast like dice upon the sacrificial stones.
