A dual pov narrative from both main characters-Loki and Annalise. If you enjoy slow burn, immersive stories, with a good plot and the long awaited spice, then stop your search. Here is the story for you!
As the newly crowned king of Jotunheim, Loki...
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I move in and out of consciousness after I am picked up from the snow, free from the giant wet tongue of Fenrir.
I sleep not just from exhaustion, but because I feel so safe within the arms that hold me. So at peace within Loki's tender touch that I can't help but drift. I fight it, resist the call of sleep that urges me to surrender, because I want to remain looking up at him. I want to keep seeing his pale face as he looks straight ahead, focused on traversing the snow and getting us to safety.
I regret that in my distress, I reacted by pushing his hands away and telling him to stop fussing over me. In that moment, I failed to recognise that all he was trying to do was to keep me warm and cared for.
My emotions were raw and overwhelming, but that does not excuse the way I acted. I should have taken a moment to collect myself, to really hear what Loki and Joben were trying to convey.
Of course they were right.
In my grief-stricken state, my mind played a cruel trick, conjuring an image of my father before me. The worry I carry over the possibility of disappointing him manifested his very form, complete with that deeply pained expression I dread to see.
But I understand now that this was not reality - Loki was right to steer me back to the truth.
It's a relief to acknowledge the vision I witnessed was not grounded in reality. The alternative is simply too unsettling to fully confront.
The way my father's image had urged me to return home, and the silent, ominous words he mouthed as he faded from my sight — "Don't trust anyone"— fills me with a deep unease.
Thank the lucky stars it was not real.
I'm drifting again. I feel it. The steady rhythm of his movements lulls me, each stride a soothing reminder that I am safe, despite the cold and the endless expanse of snow around us.
No matter how much I want to watch him as the weather beats down heavy snowflakes, littering his black, majestic hair and making it appear speckled white, I simply can't.
I must have dozed for quite some time, because the next thing I know, I'm hearing the sounds of a conversation. I recognise Loki and Joben by the heated tone in their voices and I strain to hear, but only snippets reach my ears before my mind switches itself off again.
*
Feeling a great heat roll over my body, my limbs suddenly feeling vibrant and alive, I urge myself to move but my mind takes a little while longer to catch up. After a short moment, my conscious finally registers that I am awake, and I flutter my eyes open.
To my surprise, I am no longer staring up at the night sky of Jotunheim, or the black and white speckled hair of Loki as he carries me to safety, but the drapes of a bed. They are yellow and green, intricately patterned with the mix of those two vibrant hues. I am within a chamber, but this is not the bed I was assigned when arriving in Jotunheim.
