Dana Bell - Morgan's Fate

They flew across the grass, right under the golden tree, racing for the stables and Sleipnir.

What they saw when they arrived at the stables drew a shocked gasp from Skye and a low, tortured moan from Logan.

Grimm was slowly and methodically whipping Sleipnir into a bloody mess. Sleipnir’s pale hair and skin were soaked with blood, his dark eyes glazed with pain. Sleipnir’s eyes widened when he saw them, hope banishing the despair that had covered his face. “ Pappa .”

Logan roared and knocked Grimm to the ground. The whip flew out of his hand, bright red drops arching away to stain the straw beneath them.

Grimm rubbed his jaw and glared up at Logan. “Somehow I knew you’d survive.”

Logan grinned viciously. “Rina didn’t.”

For one split second Skye saw such grief and rage on Grimm’s face that she thought he would go after Logan on the spot. When instead he dove at her, she was so shocked she didn’t get out of the way in time.

Grimm punched her so hard she fell into Sleipnir, who was swinging from the rafters by his wrists. Sleipnir cried out as she was knocked into him.

Magnus lost his famous temper. He swung at Grimm with the Mjolnir pendant.

A pendant that was suddenly a hammer, striking Grimm with such force that he broke through the stable walls, landing on the grass some twenty feet away.

“Cool.” Val pulled his blade and sauntered through the Grimm-shaped hole.

“Holy shit.” Skye, dazed that somehow Magnus had managed to change Mjolnir , pulled herself to her feet. She got out of Logan’s way as he freed his son from the bonds, gently holding him in his arms despite his whimpers.

Magnus stared at Sleipnir, his jaw clenched, rage burning in his eyes. A flash of lightning struck the ground out of a cloudless sky, startling them all. “Grimm will pay for this.”

Sleipnir held out his shaking hand to Magnus, who took it gently. “Be careful.”

Magnus nodded once before sprinting through the hole Grimm had made.

Skye had to see what was happening. Sleipnir was safe with Logan, Kir hovering protectively over them. Morgan was stepping through the hole, taking the path his brother had to Grimm.

She stepped into the shadow of the building—

And screamed as an arm came around her. A dagger pressed against her throat. “Your sisters send their regards.”

The knife slashed across her throat, the pain so sharp and bright she would have cried out if she could.

The twin sons of Thor scrambled toward her, Mjolnir flying through the air, but none of it could help Skye now. She was dead, doomed. Killing Grimm would bring them vengeance, but nothing more.

“Logan!” Morgan screamed the Jotun’s name so loudly the walls of Valhalla shook.

Skye’s vision began to fade. Crap. Crappity crap crap. She hadn’t told Morgan yet she loved him, and now she was drowning to death in her own blood.

“Shh. It’s okay, Skye. Logan’s coming.” Something dripped onto her face, blood or tears, she couldn’t tell. All she knew was the deep, masculine voice was not the one she wanted most to hear. As much as she cared for the Terminator, it was Morgan’s voice she longed for. “We’re going to save you.”

She tried to speak but couldn’t. She could hear the scissors snapping, threatening to end her once and for all.

“Shit. It’s not working, Kir.”

She struggled for breath, but it was too late. The darkness had closed in around her. The scissors were snipping her thread. She could feel them tearing at the cotton, shredding it, her sisters’ glee as they destroyed the one they felt had betrayed them.

She was done.

“Not yet, little sister.”

“What the fuck?” Kir’s tone had taken on that deep, godly timber. Baldur had roused.

“Logan, I thought you said it wasn’t working.” Val’s voice was rough with tears.

“It wasn’t.” Logan sounded baffled.

She could hear her friends arguing around her, but none of them mattered. Only the voice in her mind did. “Who are you?”

“I am you. I am Skuld, and it is not yet your time to go.” The voice was young, sweet and innocent, yet tinged with the knowledge of things to come. Skye had once spoken in that voice, used it to declare the fates of the gods themselves.

Skye took a shuddering, deep breath, rolling over to her side to vomit up blood. She could feel the threads of her life weaving back together, firming until they shone with a golden light reserved only for the gods. “How can you be me?”

“I am who you were, and who I will be.”

“That’s perfectly clear.” Had Skye been as annoying as Skuld?

The voice giggled. “I am newly born, yet old as time. I make my way to our sisters’ side, there to sit beneath Yggdrasil and speak of fates.”

The voice was fading, becoming distant as Skye regained her senses. “Do you know how I changed the prophecy?”

The voice sighed. “You will understand once more in the fullness of time. For now, enjoy your life with your love. You’ve both earned it.”

The voice faded away, leaving Skye to open bleary eyes. “Ow.”

Logan’s relieved smile was the first thing she saw. “Welcome back.”

“We didn’t think giving you Logan’s blood had worked.” Kir was leaning on Gungnir , his expression just as relieved as Logan’s. Sleipnir sat slumped at his feet, still bleeding profusely, but even as she watched his wounds were closing. His gaze was glued to something behind Logan, his full bottom lip between his teeth. “You should have his healing abilities now.”

“That’s not quite what happened.” Skye sat up, coughing up more blood in the process. “Ugh. Remind me to kill Grimm. I know just the pair of scissors to use.”

Sleipnir smiled shyly at her before turning his anxious gaze once more on the fight.

Fight? How had she missed the fight going on not ten feet away?

Morgan and Magnus were double-teaming Grimm, beating the holy hell out of him with Mjolnir . “They know they can’t kill him, right?”

Logan shrugged. “Sometimes you have to beat something until you’re satisfied.”

Kir tilted his head as Magnus got in a spectacular uppercut, the head of the hammer hitting Grimm so hard she could hear his jaw shatter. “I’d say they aren’t satisfied yet.”

Both brothers looked like the fierce Viking warriors they were. Their hair burned bright in the sunlight, the red strands almost glowing in the holy light of Asgard. Mjolnir passed between them as easily as breath, the hammer never failing to find its target before landing in an outstretched hand. No matter how many times Grimm reached for the weapon it eluded him, going to its masters like a well-trained hound.

She winced in sympathy as Grimm fell to the grass, so battered there wasn’t an inch of his face that wasn’t trashed. His nose looked broken, and both eyes were swollen shut. Even his mouth looked twice its normal size. His blond hair was just as matted with blood as Sleipnir’s.

Yet, before their eyes, he began to heal with a rapidity that made Logan swear. “Time to go, Blondie.”

“Not yet.” Magnus lifted Mjolnir , ready to land yet another blow. “I’m not done.”

Sleipnir tried to stand, crying out in pain and collapsing back on the ground.

Within seconds Magnus had the slim man in his arms, Mjolnir passed to his brother. “Shh. I have you.”

Skye blinked. The vicious warrior spoke with such pure gentleness she never would have believed he’d just been ready to pulp someone’s head if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes.

She gasped as she found herself in a similar situation. Morgan lifted her in his arms and began striding toward the gates of Valhalla. “Let’s go before the asshole gets up.”