Son of Mischief (Loki/Asgard Fanfiction - Selig's Story)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Selig was certain he'd never seen Celia look as beautiful as she did when she opened the door to her chambers that night. Not even on the night of her prom did she look as angelically perfect as she did gliding toward him, dressed in a gown of sapphire blue silk that perfectly matched her eyes and perfectly hugged her curves.

He couldn't help his low whistle and a delicate pink blush rose along her cheekbones. "Sel, don't. I feel weird enough as it is in this."

"You look amazing, though. Although, I see you didn't let anyone touch your hair."

She wrinkled her nose at him. "I thought you liked short Harpos with boobs?"

"I do." He crooked a finger in the gown's draping neckline to tug it from her. He caught her eyes and with a grin, let his gaze slide down. "And they are perfect."

"Selig!" She swatted him in the stomach. Unfortunately for her, he wore what was considered his formal armor again and it probably hurt her more than it hurt him.

He caught her hand in his and lifted it to his lips. "Did you break anything?"

"I don't think so, but it's entirely possible."

"That'll teach you to try to hit a god, sweetheart. No good ever comes of it."

"Demigod and careful or I'll aim lower next time. Somehow, I think even a demigod's boys are vulnerable."

He chuckled, tucking her arm through his. "They are, so treat them nicely or you can forget having any of those black-haired, blue-eyed babies you dream about."

She gave him a sultry grin and peered up at him in a way that had him fighting back a groan as she said, "I always treat them nicely, sweetheart. I like that part of you, why would I want to mistreat any part of it?"

He growled low in his throat, leaning over to whisper, "You do some evil things to me with only your eyes, beautiful girl. Do you know that?"

"I've worked hard to perfect it, Sel. I have to have some sort of advantage over you, you're being a god and all."

"Sweetheart, you should only know what you have over me. Anything you want, you name it and it's yours and I don't care what I have to do to get it for you."

She slid her arms about his waist and pushed up onto her tiptoes to brush his lips with hers. "Dangerous words, Selig. Very, very dangerous."

His heart seemed to skip every other beat each time her soft lips fluttered against his. She should only know the power she had over him. He couldn't remember the last time he willingly submitted to any woman and yet there was nothing he wouldn't do for Celia.

"Ugh. Enough already," Aislinn groaned from behind them. "I think I liked it better when you were just one of the guys, Ce."

"She was never one of the guys," Selig said, easing his arm about Celia's waist as they resumed walking and Aislinn fell into step beside them. "Where are the other two?"

"Already inside." She gestured toward the golden doors leading to the ballroom. "You know them, food and wine before anything else."

"It's a celebration. It isn't every day I ask someone to marry me."

"True." Aislinn's eyes glinted with mischief. "You still have time to back out, Ce. Really. Just say the word and Heimdall'll zap you back home like that!" She snapped her fingers.

Celia shook her head, her curls bouncing about with enthusiasm. "I've waited for this since I was fourteen years old, Al. I'm not leaving without him any time soon."