The Beginning Of An End

Chapter 30

A thousand questions tore through my mind, each one sharper, heavier than the last. My pulse spiked, panic clawing at my chest, but I forced myself to stand, to breathe, to appear steady.

Why was he here? Had he come to gloat, to mock my defeat, or worse... to finish what the Devil had started?

I couldn't move. Couldn't speak. The man I had once loved—the one I had fought so hard to forget—was standing right in front of me. Stripped of everything, I didn't know whether to feel anger, relief, or despair.

His eyes met mine, and something flickered there. Recognition? Regret? A sliver of the man I had once known? Before I could even begin to untangle the storm inside me, he was closer, his presence pressing in like a tide I could neither resist nor escape.

We stared, silent, endless seconds stretching into eternity. His gaze—soft, piercing—seemed to unravel me, thread by thread. Every look reminded me of what I had lost. Of what we had lost. My chest tightened, a vice of longing, fury, and grief that left me gasping for air.

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms, grounding myself. Memories, broken promises, and shattered hopes surged to the surface, fueling a heat I couldn't quench. I was on the edge of crumbling, of breaking entirely, yet I refused to let him see it. Not now.

I drew in a deep, shaky breath, jaw set, eyes locked on him, daring him to underestimate the fire still burning inside me.

"Why are you here?" I whispered. The words scraped their way out of my throat, barely audible even to me. Hurt and rage coiled together inside my chest, choking me. "Did you wait patiently for me to be stripped of everything just so you could waltz back in? And how did you even know I was here?"

Loki didn't answer right away. He watched me, cautious, as if waiting for the storm to pass. It didn't. I kept glaring at him, fury the only thing anchoring me upright.

"Odin saw it coming," he said finally, his voice careful, almost gentle. "When I saw the Devil drag you away, I knew what it meant. Everything is falling apart inside."

The words hung between us, thin and fragile, like a thread stretched too far. He sounded sincere. Measured. And I hated him for it.

He'd known.
He'd known.

I stared at him, the anger burning hotter now. "So what?" I snapped. "You stood there and watched? Watched while everything I fought for was ripped apart?"

Something flickered in his eyes. Regret. Guilt. I couldn't tell which, and it didn't matter.

"I didn't come to watch," he said, stepping closer. "I came because I couldn't let you be alone in this."

"Oh, fuck off!" I shouted. The sound cracked, raw and sharp. "You left me once before. You could've stayed gone!"

He froze, confusion twisting his expression. He didn't understand. Of course he didn't. Everything had changed, and he was still standing in the past.

I didn't give him time to speak.

"Because of you," I continued, voice shaking with fury, "I'm dethroned. Powerless. And I couldn't even finish what I started."

The anger boiled over. I shoved him hard.

Loki stumbled back, surprise flashing across his face. Only then did it hit me—not everything was gone. My power, maybe. But my strength? That was still there.

Annoyance flared in his eyes, quickly chased by something far more wounded. "So now you're blaming me?" he shot back. "Asmo, this is your fault!"