When Darkness Falls - LOKI - Book One (Editing)

8. Unprepared ✓

Athelia was no stranger to the consequences of her rage, but from the moment she stepped foot on Asgard to the moment she bid farewell to her father, something within her had changed. Her outbursts were no longer entirely contained by the metallic bands on her wrists, and the destruction of her anger had gone from a breeze to a cyclone, and it was one she tried desperately to contain to the darkest parts of the palace.

The dungeons had been her safe haven for months. Night after night, she would make her way down and release her anger within the safety of the cell at the far end of the corridor. Though tonight, she found the cell she had spent hours fighting illusions in, occupied by the one person who made her question whether or not she was indeed losing control of herself.

Loki lay on a cot, reading a book quietly as the prisoners from other cells continued to cause the ruckus she so craved. She watched him from the shadows for a short while as he slowly turned the pages, but the longer she stood there studying the young man, the easier it was for Loki to see through the shadows and the illusions.

"Well, don't you look lovely," Loki finally spoke, though he did not look up from the book.

Athelia's eyes widened at him, unsure what he was speaking of until she looked down at her form. To her surprise, the golden facade she wore to get through the dungeon doors had faded, and she was now standing in front of Loki, in nothing more than an emerald dress made of the most delicate chiffon. "How did you do that?" She asked him, taking a step towards his cell.

Loki lowered the book in his hand, and his dark brows furrowed as he looked over the goddess in front of him. A far cry from the warrior he had first laid eyes on, yet still, just as beautiful and bloodthirsty in this form. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He teased.

She stared at him through the golden prism that held him captive. Loki had nowhere to go and nowhere to hide, and Athelia was not leaving until she knew. "Tell me."

"Perhaps I'm stronger than you," he told her, still lying lazily on his cot. "Or perhaps I did nothing at all, and you're simply just not as strong as you pretend to be."

She closed her eyes, taking him by surprise as she appeared next to his cot. "Or perhaps I can you make you tell me," she threatened.

"I would very much love to see -" his words cut off as Athelia grabbed hold of his throat and pushed him back down into his pillow. She had half expected him to fight back, but regardless of how tightly she squeezed his thin neck, all he managed to do was chuckle and wrap his hands tightly around her forearm.

Athelia winced almost instantly. Pain was not something she normally endured unless it was self-inflicted, such as the burning of her binds, so when the skin under his hands began to burn, she pulled away and stepped back, staring down at the blackened handprint that quickly began to fade. "What did you do?"

Loki ignored her question and stood. He brushed his hands against the leather of his pants and let her dangerous gaze follow him as he shoved past her and began to circle the small cell. "I've heard stories about you," he told her, slowing his pace. "But I must admit, you are not quite what I had expected."

She continued to rub her arm as she followed him. "I am so sorry to disappoint."

Loki's gaze fell from her blue eyes to the golden embellishments over the chest of her dress and down the slight curve of her hips until he reached the floor where her bare feet were planted in striking position. "Believe me, love," he spoke softly, "There is not even a bit of me that is disappointed." He gave her a sly smirk as she scowled at him. "Though I must admit, I did imagine the famed warrior princess to be a tad taller."