Coming Home (Sequel to This Time Around)

Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

The nursery was dark and quiet, and Loki smiled as he rocked Nicholas, snuggled against his chest. McKenna dozed in the rocking chair between the two bassinets, exhausted from nursing twins. Nicholas fussed when he was finished, so Loki took him from McKenna and swayed gently until the infant fell asleep.

It was so easy to forget how small infants were, even ones who were half-Frost Giant, and although this was his third child, Loki still marveled over ten little fingers and ten little toes and so much perfection wrapped up in one small, somewhat wrinkled person. It never ceased to amaze him, that he helped create such perfection. He gazed over at his sleeping wife-so serene and beautiful even when so obviously wiped out-and fell in love with her all over again. His wife. His soul mate. His Midgardian.

They'd come so far since the sticky June evening when he crashed into her apartment, battered and on the run. Back then, all he wanted was to get as far away from her, from Midgard, as possible. Now? He couldn't imagine his life without her. Without their children.

Five years ago, his main goal was to reclaim the throne he felt was rightfully his-Asgard's throne. Now, with Thor having officially chosen Midgard over Asgard, that throne was in Loki's grasp and would one day be his.

"And one day, you will hopefully be your brother's advisor. It's my hope you will be close, closer than my own brother and I were until recently. And you will all rely on one another, trust one another, and know you are all always there for one another." Loki pulled Nicholas closer still, cradling his son's head in one hand, letting his fingers graze lightly over his silky black hair. "And your mother and I love you to the ends of the universe."

Nicholas mewled in his sleep and Loki simply gazed down at him. As an infant, he'd been cast out by his own father, Laufey. Cast out onto a frozen rock and left to die. He was small for a Jötunn. Frail. Weak.

He would have died on that rock, had Odin not found him. Although Odin's motives had been purely political and selfish-his plan had been to use Loki as a political tool one day to keep Jotunheim under firm control-Loki no longer cared about them. They no longer mattered the way they once did. Before McKenna came into his life and taught him was love truly was, Loki had come to hate Odin. To hate and mistrust. That hatred drove him to almost complete self-destruction.

But McKenna saved him. Saved him in every way he could be saved. Showed him how to love. How to trust. Loved him when he hardly deemed himself worthy of anything but contempt. She showed him kindness when no one else did. A pure kindness, where the only this she asked for in return was that he not kill anyone.

He smiled now, as he watched his newborn son sleep, as he glanced over at Kyra, sleeping peacefully in her bassinet. His firstborn son and heir slept just down the hall, his daughter just a few doors down. His wife dozed only a few feet away. So much change, so much wonderful change, when he never dared hope for it.

The door opened then and Odin poked his head in. "May I?"

"What are you doing awake at this hour?" Loki whispered over Nicholas's head.

"I'm not entirely certain." Odin came into the nursery. He looked worn out and tired, but as he gazed upon his newest grandchildren, a smile came to his face. "They are beautiful, Loki. You and McKenna should be quite proud."

"We are, of course. Would you like to hold him?"

Odin nodded. "I would."

Loki carefully shifted to place Nicholas in Odin's arms without waking him. Odin smiled down at the sleeping infant. "I forget how small newborns are."