Loki's Daughter Book 3

Valhalla

'Raven...Lokidottir,' a voice calls my name out. Surprised, I look around me. I'm in the signature Throne Hall I last saw on Asgard. I tilt my head and study the person on the throne. Odin. I step forward and keep walking until I'm at the bottom of the stairs. He merely glances down at me and snaps his fingers. A maid scurries up the stairs and hands him a drink.

'Why are you here?'

'I died dumbass. We...I am not immortal. My body is way past broken. It's been broken to many time to even be fixed this time,' I drawl out bored.

He groans, glances down at a sheet in his hand then back at me. 'Well you are in Valhalla. Routine says that those who come to the hall of Valhalla tell me their life story.'

I shrug.

'But I don't see why you should have to. You don't belong here.'

'No more than you do,' I reply.

He glares at me, leaning forwards in his seat. His wife appears by his side and lays a gentle hand on his shoulder.

'Follow the customs dear,' she tells him. He leans back and looks up at his wife.

'Why? Why should we? It's just a mere...Raven.'

I groan spin a full 360 on the spot, noting no one else in the hall. I scream, gaining both of their attention. Before either can speak, I cast one last spell that shows everything I have ever been through.

Dully I hear a cup drop as I drop to my knees, head bowed, panting. Tears flow softly down my cheeks. The hall remains silent even after I regain my posture, standing head straight face clear from all signs of emotions.

Odin looks from his wife to me. His wife walks down the stairs, stands in front of me for a moment before opening her arms. I stumble backwards shocked.

'What are you doing?' I snap.

She rolls her eyes and wraps me up in a hug. I struggle in her grasp but it only makes her hug me tighter. I give up struggling and close my eyes, relaxing.

'Raven...I-'

I look over at Odin who sits up on his throne like nothing ever happened. Just the one look at the person who chose his real son over his adopted. The person who chose his real granddaughter over his adopted. The one who said from the very start that I don't matter. That it doesn't matter if I die and it breaks through the mask I've been hiding behind my whole life. I turn my back to him, head up high and walk away from him. Only to be stopped at the door by a hand on my shoulder.

'I now pronounce you Goddess. Goddess of lies and magic and ice.' His soft voice is so different from his kingly voice.

Goddess of three things.

'Obviously unlike Valarie I don't have to teach you anything and it's probably for the best of both of us that we keep this short. I will let you know that you will have pain and your magic will be out of hand. Both your ice and your inherited magic. Best if you stay away for a bit until you gain control.'

'I never had control,' I smirk facing him. 'I never had control before. What makes you think I will have control now?'

'You have enough power to make an ice palace when losing control,' he warns me.

I merely nod before leaving.