Dana Bell: Howl for Me

“That Fen isn’t the wolf who will kill Odin?” Val sighed wearily. “Shit. I really hate it when I’m right.”

Jeff stared up at his mate and tried not to laugh. Fen hovered over him, arms caging Jeff in his chair, his expression furious, and all Jeff could think of was Fen as a furry. If he laughed in his mate’s face right now he’d be in even more trouble, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to hold out.

“You deliberately put yourself in danger.”

“I had good reason.”

Fen’s jaw clenched. His arms trembled. Jeff figured he was holding off a shift. “Grimm could have killed you.”

Jeff nodded.

“Killed. You.” Fen’s eyes closed, the fear and anger mingling in his expression killing some of Jeff’s laughter. “ I can’t lose you. ”

“You won’t.” Jeff reached up and caressed Fen’s jaw. “I knew you’d come.”

“You don’t understand.” Fen opened his eyes, picked him up and carried him to bed. Jeff had never enjoyed being carried before, but Fen somehow managed to do it without making him feel like a total twink. “How do I make you understand?” He curled up around Jeff, spooning him close. He buried his nose in Jeff’s curls and breathed deep. He shuddered, and Jeff could sense his mate’s fear slowly draining away.

“Stay.”

The word was whispered so softly Jeff almost couldn’t hear it. So Jeff gave his lover the one thing no one else could. He picked up Fen’s hand and kissed it, hoping it would convey the sentiment he still had trouble saying out loud.

“Forever, elskede .”

“We’ve won.” Grimm laughed and spun Rina in his arms. “We won!”

Rina giggled like a young maiden and clutched him for dear life. “No one can defeat the mighty Odin!”

He set her on her feet and kissed her, ravaging her mouth until she was reduced to nothing but moans. “I want inside you.”

Rina nodded eagerly, her hands on the zipper of her pants. Who cared if they were in some disgusting old house whose walls dripped with his blood? He’d won ! The wolf had done his best, but Odin was still here.

Still alive .

And if the wolf couldn’t kill him… Grimm laughed again and thrust into Rina hard and fast, taking and giving in equal measure.

As Grimm reached his climax in the heated embrace of his lover, he’d never felt more in control of his destiny. Gungnir would be his again, as would the Aesir.

Rina was right. No one could defeat him.

Morgan stared at the two women currently sitting under Yggdrasil, the World Tree. Both were beautiful in their own way, but they seemed to be missing something.

Oh yeah. Their third. Where was the Norn of the Future?

“We cannot give you that which you seek, Son of Thor.” Redheaded Urdr didn’t even look up from the root she was examining. The Norns of Fate were responsible for keeping the World Tree healthy, and they took their duties very seriously. “We cannot see the future without Skuld present.”

Magnus cursed, earning a glare from Urdr. “I’m sorry, but why isn’t she here ?”

Morgan winced at his brother’s cry. His twin’s temper was legendary. For some reason people were more afraid of him than they were of his older brother, but Magnus took temper tantrum and turned it into an art form.

Dark-haired Verdandi, Norn of the Present, shrugged, staring sheepishly at her sister. “I have no clue.”

“She is lost to us.” Urdr sighed and patted the root. “We know not where she is.”

Morgan’s brows rose at that. “The Norn of the Present can’t find her sister?”

Verdandi glared at him from under dark hair. “Nope. Her ass would be here if I could. It’s her turn to weed.”

“Why?” he drawled.

Urdr shrugged. “She was lost in the past.”

Magnus turned and glared at Urdr, while Morgan turned his attention to Verdandi.

Verdandi grimaced. “Don’t look at me, I can’t find her either.”

Urdr grumbled at her sister under her breath, but Morgan couldn’t quite make out what she was saying. He was too busy staring at her hair. Her impossibly bright hair that was tinged with…purple?

There is no way that hair color is natural.

“Oh save it.” Vervandi rolled her eyes. “You’d thee and thou everyone to death if I let you. I almost wish you spoke nothing but ancient Egyptian again.”

Verdandi sniffed disdainfully and turned back to Magnus. “Our sister took off after something, or some one , but she wouldn’t tell us what. When she didn’t return we tried to find her but had no luck. We asked Heimdall—”

“But the son of a whore refused to tell us what we wanted to know.” Urdr sighed. “And without Skuld, without the future?”

Magnus and Morgan stared at one another as the awful truth hit them both.

The truth echoed between them. “We’re doomed.”

Dana Marie Bell wrote her first short story when she was thirteen years old.

She attended the High School for Creative and Performing Arts for creative writing, where freedom of expression was the order of the day. When her parents moved out of the city and placed her in a Catholic high school for her senior year, she tried desperately to get away, but the nuns held fast, and she graduated with honors despite herself.

Dana has lived primarily in the Northeast (Pennsylvania, New Jersey and Delaware, to be precise), with a brief stint on the U.S. Virgin Island of St. Croix.

She lives with her soul mate and husband Dusty, their two maniacal children, an evil, ice-cream-stealing cat and a bull terrier that thinks it’s a Pekinese.

You can learn more about Dana at www.danamariebell.com or contact her at danamariebell@gmail.com.