And I remembered that kiss.
The one we'd shared in the transfer room when we'd arrived back in Asgard from Muspell, the one that told me how much he cared despite everything that had happened to us, the one we shared only minutes before Loki stabbed him with his poisoned dagger.
Everything flashed through my mind, and Aidan just held me until I was all cried out.
"Okay now?" he asked when I’d finally gone silent. And the gentle softness to his voice made me want to start all over again.
I took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah, and you? How are you feeling?" I cleared my throat and stepped away from him. I suddenly needed a bit of distance from his arms and his warmth.
"As good as new." His eyes sparkled as he grinned. I stared at him, suspicion rising in an invisible tide. I knew that look.
"Been into the Mead, I see?" I raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh.
"Yup, it's delicious." He winked and strode to his bed, where a low table had been set up. "Want some?" He held up a goblet.
I laughed, joyously happy to see him well. "Why the hell not?"
I shut the door and plonked myself down beside him, taking a goblet of the divine golden milk of the goat Heidrun. Amazing stuff. Cotton candy delicious, filled with healing magic and a sparkle of happiness.
We sipped in a happy, comfortable silence. Which made me want to cry all over again. I snorted silently, pretty disgusted with this new crybaby Bryn.
"So you saved me, hey," Aidan said. "You're pretty good at keeping your word . . . for a girl." He grinned, and I elbowed him in the ribs. Then I gasped in horror. His stab wound. "It's fine, Bryn. It's all healed."
I frowned. Not too long ago it wasn't healed at all. "Really?" I didn't try to hide the fact that I found that pretty hard to believe.
He nodded. "Yup."
"Let me see."
He shrugged as if to say have at it. I did, pulling his shirt up to reveal the healed edges of the wound. His skin was back to a healthy color, with no sign of awful purple and yellow. I let the fabric fall. "Wow, that's something, isn't it? I just looked at that last night and it was hideous and raw."
"Hideous, you say?" He stifled his laughter, trying to look offended. Gee, Aidan, you so need to brush up on your acting skills. Then he sobered in all of three seconds. "So fill me in."
I didn't need to ask him what he meant. I launched into my tale, briefly running over everything that had happened since Freya left me on the floor of Odin's hall, covered in Aidan's blood, listening to Loki's laughter. I even brought him up to speed on the black Warrior-killing goop.
"Woah, you don't waste time, do you?" Aidan's eyes went wide. They widened further when I told him about Astrid's little stunt when I'd arrived with the elixir. "You mean she actually tried to kill you?"
"Pretty much wanted to slice me and dice me. And it wasn't the first time, so I didn't have much trouble believing she wanted me dead. She did put up a fight, though." But I hadn't wasted time in showing Astrid who was boss. I remembered the hatred that glowed in her cold eyes as she sat on the floor of Freya's Hall, defeated.
"Well, she'll know not to mess with you again." Aidan threw an arm around me. The furs beneath me reminded me that we were sitting on Aidan's bed. I smiled a small sad smile. The last time we'd sat together on his bed and talked had been back home in Craven, the night Brody died. The night my whole world had slowly begun to crumble.
Another comfortable silence passed, in which more Mead was drunk and in which the heat generated from our thighs, as we sat so close together, became almost unbearable.
I wriggled, intending to move away from him to give us both some space, but somehow I found myself within the circle of his arms instead.
No time or action or intention made sense in that moment as he lowered his head and captured my lips with his. This heated meeting of lips was filled with promise. Not only the promise of entwined arms and racing pulses, but also of longing and loneliness, and of sacrifice.
This time, it was I who was lost in him, lost in the heat of his lips and the feel of his living body beneath my searching fingers. It was so good to have him back, healthy and alive.
I couldn't say who pulled away first, or why. But we did. Eventually. I looked away, straightened my hair, patting it neatly just to make use of my jittery fingers.
Aidan cleared his throat and broke the silence with the best response ever. "So when do we leave?"
"Just say the word."
"Okay then, what are you waiting for, Valkyrie?"
Chapter 37
Freya delivered us straight into Odin's Hall, and we arrived amidst the shadows and the dust motes. The goddess inclined her head to Aidan and then to me: a regal farewell. Then she shimmered into nothingness, becoming part of the shadows in the blink of an eye.
I barely registered her departure as I turned to Aidan to check on him. These god-guided Bifrost trips were not easy on the body, and he had a strange, almost drunken expression in his eyes.
Of course, that could just be the Mead.
"You alright?" I gripped his arm.
He nodded, although even that slight movement looked shaky. After clearing his throat, he said, "Yeah. I'm fine." And then he proved it by standing on his own two feet and brushing my hand off.
Before I could think about being hurt by his rejection, the chatter of a rather noisy group of people approaching the hall disturbed us. They crossed the huge threshold, which could easily have accommodated eight abreast, and I grinned at the sight of Fen and Joshua and the rest of the scout team. Deep in conversation, they ambled down the aisle, their muted words echoing softly in the gigantic hall.
Their discussion came to a grinding halt as soon as they caught sight of us. Joshua and Aimee ran forward, and a flurry of hugs and excited questions ensued. Aidan received a round of slaps on the back as the Craven kids celebrated his return to the land of the living.
Behind me, someone cleared his throat. I turned to face Fen and met his enigmatic gaze.
"Hello, Brynhildr." His expression remained cool, almost aloof. "I see you have had a successful mission."
I felt a stab of guilt that Fen had had no part in my mission; he was, after all, my superior, and I hadn't even told him my plans. Would Thor or Odin have passed him a message? I hoped he wouldn't hold it against me.
I pasted a bit of happiness on my face. "Yes. Aidan is well, and the Nidhogg's daughter will be well soon enough."
In the lull of laughter and questions, Fen injected a question that wreathed the room in tense silence. "Brynhildr, what happened in Swartelfheim?" An odd frown formed on his face.
I bristled, my own guilt making Odin's expression accusatory instead of enquiring. I gave the group a condensed version of the events, skimming quickly over Mika's attack and her death at my hands, hoping they wouldn't ask for more details. I should have hoped harder. At the mention of her death, everyone in the team exchanged strange glances, their faces seeming to burst with further questions.
"What did you say about Mika?"
I thought it would've been Fen who asked that question, Mika being his child, but the speaker's voice boomed around the hall, and the chattering group fell silent.
I bowed to Odin before I answered. "My lord, I was forced to defend myself against my Ulfr partner when she attacked me and tried to take the goblet from me. She was so desperate for me not to have it that she destroyed it."
Odin mulled over my answer, his face a granite profile. He said, "Fenrir, is Mika able to walk?"
I almost choked at the god's question. Mika able to walk? Was he crazy? Mika was dead.
I'd killed her.
I was sure I'd killed her.
I glanced at Fen over my shoulder, disbelief pasted on my face, but he just patted my arm and answered Odin. "Yes, my lord. She is well enough to walk." Odin nodded and turned to a Huldra, who trotted off, probably to fetch Mika. Inside my chest, my heart catapulted. Mika had been very dead when I'd left her on the floor of Odin's hall.
"Is she really okay?" I asked Fen, terrified that he would bite my head off, literally. I'd mortally wounded his daughter. Or so I'd thought. Apparently I'd been mistaken in thinking myself a murderer.
"Yes, Brynhildr. It is a natural ability of the Ulfr. We are fast, strong, and we heal faster than humans do. Faster than Valkyries do, too."
"But she was dead." I shook my head, still unable to process what he was saying.
"Not dead. Our bodies go into a stasis. We regenerate, healing damage to organs, regaining our health. Mika will be weak. But she will soon be healthy again." And though his voice held a touch of comfort for me, the tone was all business, and one hundred percent fury.
I wasn't sure what to say. About to respond, I met Joshua's suddenly angry eyes over Aimee's shoulder and stopped. Now what the hell was that about? Sure, I'd sliced and diced the love of his life, but she'd meant to kill me. Was I suddenly not allowed to defend my life, just because Joshua had the hots for my traitorous friend? But as angry as I was, Joshua's anger hurt more than anything else did. I never thought I'd ever see such resentment in my best friend's eyes. My heart ached.
Mika's entrance into the hall distracted me from my self-pitying thoughts. The Huldra servant led her to the dais, where she stood before Odin, awaiting his word. Her skin gleamed a milky, colorless hue, while her face appeared demure.