Awakening (8-chapter challenge)

- Ingrid "the Wolf" Falk -

"That is something you could have sent via text." Erik leaned forward, clasping his hands together. "Get to the point, Ingrid, before you lose my patience."

"Oh, alright." Ingrid sighed and studied her manicure. "At the mansion, I noticed something was... off... about our friend Gabriel."

Erik squinted, but she had his attention. "Off, how?"

She shrugged. Though she acted nonchalant, there was a squirming worm of unease in her stomach. "Do you remember how it would feel whenever the Aesir would appear? That anger and irritation? Like a gnat buzzing around your ear." Erik nodded. "It was that feeling. Like an Aesir was close by. But there was no one except Gabriel."

"Perhaps it was a phantom feeling," Erik shrugged. "A memory from the past."

"But we don't know where the gods have gone," Ingrid argued, "Odin did warn us that they would return. After they locked Loki away, they disappeared, but what if they're here, on Midgard, only hidden?"

Erik contemplated his words with care. He knew the cost of angering Ingrid, even if he enjoyed a good fight. He got up and crossed over to the expensive bar he custom-built for his pleasure. If there was one thing Erik liked, it was the most expensive bottles of liquor.

"Ingrid, you are looking for signs where there aren't any. If the gods were here, they would have shown themselves long ago. They certainly would not pick a thug like Gabriel. He's about as far from a god as possible." Erik smirked and said into his glass, "Even his nickname, the War God, is pretentious and gaudy."

"We can't let our guards down. They have had centuries to regain their strength, and the world has been unbalanced for so long. You know that was the only thing keeping them at bay—"

"Enough," Erik snapped. His cold, blue eyes struck Ingri. "All of this is based on superstitions. Have you been speaking to Sofie again?"

"Sofie has intimate knowledge of the Aesir," Ingrid shot back. "She may not know where they are, but she is attuned to them as a goddess herself."

Erik made a noise that resembled disgust. "Pretending to be a goddess, that is. She always was too gentle and weak to be one of us." He did not know Sofie as well as he wanted Ingrid to believe. "Don't let her fill your head with nonsense. She will always take the gods' side, so what makes you think she's not toying with you?"

Ingrid's vein in her neck pulsed heatedly. "Because I know what I felt. I am just as old as you are, Erik. I'm not a foolish child."

Erik shrugged and sipped the amber whiskey as if to say she was a foolish child. Ingrid leapt to her feet with a snarl. "If the gods do come back, the blood of our kin is on your hands, Erik."

"Such a drama queen. Without Thor, the gods will never be as powerful as they were." Erik raised his glass as Ingrid stormed to the door. "And without Loki, Ragnarok will never happen."

Ingrid slammed the door shut and slumped against it. Her body trembled with ferocious anger sparked by her giant blood. There was a time when Erik welcomed the notion of Ragnarok. Even just a hint that the gods were stirring would excite him. If he were becoming complacent in the human world, he would no longer be of any importance to Ingrid. The giants were owed a war, and the gods disappeared. If they were coming back, she would be ready.

In the warm comfort of her Mercedes, Ingrid leaned her head on the headrest and stared up at the penthouse suite as her driver pulled away. The giants knew it was a risk to become more like the humans, but there was no longer a place for them in the frosted world they called home. After the gods left, there was no balance. The worlds were in flux, and the giants needed an outlet. So, they went to the one place they could blend in and channel their energy. Over the centuries, giants moved into positions of power and influence, from politicians to rich tycoons to celebrities to cartel royalty. Humans were so easy to manipulate and bend to their will that the giants had solidified their power by the time they noticed the damage being done to their world and their civilization.

Giants craved chaos and were free to do as they pleased, but Ingrid was starting to find that level of freedom boring. There was no challenge. They were not the soldiers on the ground fighting wars. They were the puppet masters. So, perhaps Erik was right. Maybe she was bored and trying to find something in the monotony, even if it were traces of the gods.

"Are you still going to the club, Miss Falk?" the driver asked, cutting through her simmering thoughts.

With an irritated sigh, Ingrid glanced at her driver. He was a good man, quiet and unreadable. She liked being able to read people, but with Henry, she felt relaxed. Even when he interrupted her, she never bit back or punished him. He only spoke when he had something to say, which she appreciated.

"Take me home, Henry, and fetch me one of my pets," she replied, her nails tapping on the door. Her lips curved in a hungry smile. "I need to unwind."