Fall (The Ragnarok Prophesies Book 2)

by A. K. Morgen

  “Are they shifters?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Oh.”

  I adjusted my position on the bed, the silence between us tense and uncomfortable.

  “They were werewolves.”

  “Were?” My frown deepened.

  “Were,” Ronan said, his voice cold. He cut his eyes in my direction. “They were supposed to watch her for me. She died. So did they.”

  I swallowed, my heart jumping. “You….”

  I couldn’t bring myself to ask outright if he killed them.

  The bleak look in his dark eyes was answer enough, anyway. Part of me was horrified he’d killed people he considered friends in cold blood. The other part though, well, that part understood his pain in some perverse way. If it was Dace, if he’d been killed on someone else’s watch…. could I let that go?

  I didn’t think so.

  The thought unnerved me, but I couldn’t deny it, and I couldn’t really judge Ronan when I knew there was even the slightest possibility I might be capable of doing the same thing. We were warriors, and this was war. I guess that changed things, even if the thought did make me sick to my stomach.

  “I’m sorry you lost her,” I said softly.

  He met my gaze full on. “Me too.”

  I settled back against my headboard, closing my eyes. There were a thousand more questions I wanted to ask, but I didn’t have the heart to push. I didn’t necessarily like Ronan, but that didn’t mean I wanted to pick at his still raw wounds. He’d earned my respect if not my friendship, and I honestly didn’t want to make things worse for him.

  I let my mind drift as I waited for Dace to finish his shower, trying to find a little quiet in the storm in my head. I focused on the pack, listening for the slightest murmur or stir from Buka, but as usual, I found nothing. They were too far out, hiding in the thick press of trees that extended for miles in every direction throughout central Arkansas. My weak connection with them didn’t extend that far.

  “You know it’s only a matter of time until they stop hiding in the shadows,” Ronan said.

  I wasn’t sure if his words were a statement or a question, and I didn’t need to ask to know he wasn’t talking about Buka and her pack mates. “I know.”

  “Dace isn’t ready.”

  “I know that, too,” I whispered. Dace wasn’t ready, and that worried me. If Sköll and Hati came for us… would he even fight, or would he trade his life for mine? I think Ronan and I both knew the answer to that question. Dace would move Heaven and Earth to keep me safe. I felt naïve for ever believing that was a good thing. It wasn’t, and Ronan and I both knew that, too.

  Dace was losing it. Big time.

  “I won’t let him risk Dani’s sisters,” Ronan warned. For once, he didn’t sound cold or distant. He sounded almost apologetic.

  “You need him,” I whispered, my throat raw and my eyes wide.

  Ronan met my gaze again and nodded. “I do.”

  But not as much as he needed Sköll and Hati to die, or Chelle and Beth to live. If Dace got in the way of that….

  I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself. “I’ll stop you.”

  “You’ll try,” he said.

  I narrowed my gaze on him, then sighed. I didn’t have the energy to fight, not when we both knew how things would end if it got that far. Freki lived inside me, but, even now, she was little more than a ghost. Without her strength, I couldn’t stop Ronan any more than I could Sköll or Hati.

  “He needs time, Ronan.” I doubted my plea would do any good, but there was no way I would let Ronan hurt Dace. I’d find some way to get through to Dace first. I didn’t have a choice.

  “We’re out of time. If you can’t get him under control, I will.”

  I opened my mouth to ask what Ronan expected me to do when Geri roared.

  The violent, unexpected sound split my head open with a fierce, tearing pain.

  I cried out, reaching up to cradle my head between my hands.

  Freki twisted and fluttered inside me, too weak to do anything more than howl faintly for her mate.

  Dace tore the bathroom door open, slamming it against the wall outside my bedroom. The bed shook beneath me from the force.

  Geri roared again, raging at some unseen threat. He refused to stop long enough for me to follow the disjointed thoughts skittering this way and that or to question Dace.

  Something was happening though. Something big.

  A chorus of howls sounded from the woods behind the house. They were faint, far away, but full of the same anger working Geri into a frenzy.

  A soft huff whispered through Freki’s cage, which only served to make Geri howl louder.

  Dace poked his head through the door. Water dripped from his hair, down the sides of his face, and over his bare shoulders. His muscles were tense, his jaw clenched. He strained hard, trying to keep Geri from wresting control away from him.

  To his credit, Ronan didn’t ask a single question.

  I wasn’t built the same way.

  What’s wrong? I demanded, pushing the thought at Dace as hard as I could.

  His gaze fell on me for an instant. His eyes were pools of liquid emerald flame, burning brightly. “The wolves are under attack,” he said.

  “Oh my god,” I whispered, fear turning my blood to ice.

  Dace held my gaze for a moment, trying to convince himself, I think, that our friends needed him more than I did right then. Fear flickered in his eyes, fighting to reclaim its place at the forefront of his mind. I couldn’t let that happen.

  Sköll and Hati no longer hid in the shadows.

  They were out there right now, hurting our friends.

  “Help Kalei and Buka,” I said. “Please.”

  Dace stared at me for a moment, deliberating, then nodded.

  He disappeared down the stairs as quickly as he’d appeared in the doorway.

  I didn’t move. I was too scared to even breathe deeply. I felt sick to my stomach. Wrecked. Like I had the night I learned about Geri, the first time I sensed Freki living deep inside me. Nothing made sense, and then it became frighteningly clear

  Geri still roared, fighting Dace for control. But this was personal for Dace. Last time Sköll and Hati crawled from the shadows, Geri held the reins. This time, Dace wanted to look the monsters in the eye himself. I think, if he could, he would rip them apart with his bare hands. It didn’t work that way though. At least I didn’t think it did.

  I also didn’t think Dace would listen if I tried to tell him as much. Like I told Ronan, Dace wasn’t ready.

  Please, don’t hurt him, I prayed, unsure who I hoped heard my plea. Odin? God? Sköll and Hati?

  Ronan paced around the room, clenching and unclenching his hands. He rolled his neck. Paced again.

  “Sit down, please.” If I had to watch him pace until Dace returned, I’d lose my mind.

  Ronan turned to look at me, opened his mouth, and then closed it with an audible snap. Hatred burned in his dark eyes, black shining almost as brightly as the emerald of Dace’s.

  I shivered and looked away.

  Half an hour later, Geri stopped roaring as suddenly as he started.

  The pack’s howls slowed and then halted altogether.

  I strained, listening for any hint of sound. The clock on my bedside table ticked. Breath rushed in and out of my lungs. Ronan’s boots scrapped against the carpet. But no sounds came from beyond my window. And none came from Dace and Geri.

  Dace?

  He didn’t answer.

  Panic fought for a foothold. I forced it down, closed my eyes, and focused on my boys.

  They both felt calm to me. Calmer, at least. And I couldn’t say for sure, but I think Dace’s shifters were with him, wherever he was.

  The world was too silent for so much uncertainty, though.

  Dace? Talk to me, please. What’s going on?

  My cell phone rang.

  I yelped and then grabbed for it, my heart pounding.

>   Ronan stopped pacing and turned toward me.

  “Dace?”

  “We’re fine,” he said.

  “Oh, thank god.” My shoulders slumped, and then shook as healing fingers of relief worked their way through me, unknotting cramped muscles and loosening fear’s stranglehold on me. “What happened?” I asked.

  “They killed a wolf two miles outside of town.”

  My heart immediately leapt into my throat again. I felt weak, like I might pass out. “Oh, god. Who?”

  “I don’t know him, and neither did the pack. He wasn’t one of ours.”

  Not one of ours. Not Kalei, Buka, Fuki, or any of the others I’d come to love in the last months. I drew a deep, grateful breath, and then felt bad for it.

  A wolf died today.

  We didn’t know him, but that didn’t make his death any better.

  “Was it… Did they―?” I didn’t know how to word my question.

  “Yes,” Dace said anyway, seething. “Buka and Kalei went out to meet him, but Sköll and Hati found him first. Once the pack showed up to help, the cowards fled.”

  Sköll and Hati were careful, but I didn’t think that was because they lacked courage. Every move they made had a purpose. They weren’t natural wolves like the pack, or even like Geri and Freki, but they acted like wolves. They hovered on the edges of the battle field, never expending energy chasing us down. They waited until they could pick off the weakest of us, those of us alone and defenseless like Dani and me, or Chiran and this poor wolf. When they attacked, we never saw them coming.

  “What now?” I asked.

  “The pack will mourn him like they do their own, I guess.” Dace sighed into the phone. “I’m so tired of this shit.”

  I ached to reach through the phone and wrap my arms around him.

  Ronan cleared his throat.

  Crap. I’d forgotten about him.

  I covered the receiver and filled him in. “Dace thinks he was coming to help.”

  “It’s happened before.”

  “It has?”

  Ronan nodded.

  “Ronan says it’s happened before.”

  “Put me on speaker,” Dace said.

  “Dace….”

  “Arionna….”

  I hesitated, certain I’d live to regret putting him on speaker phone, but I did it anyway. Reluctantly.

  “You’re on,” I told him, shooting Ronan an apologetic smile.

  “What do you mean it’s happened before?” Dace asked immediately.

  “Do you really think you and Ari simply go out and enlist an army of wolves to help fight Sköll and Hati when they appear?” Ronan asked, his voice level, but somehow full of scorn. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

  I cringed.

  “No,” Dace snapped. “I assumed we sent you since you’re completely useless otherwise.”

  “Are you pissed because I remember or because you don’t?” Ronan asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t look mad, exactly. But, then again, he rarely looked angry when he and Dace fought. That made his earlier threat even more real to me.

  If Ronan thought killing Dace would save Beth and Chelle, Ronan would kill him.

  “You―”

  “I swear to God I’ll hang up,” I warned before Dace could insult Ronan again, sick and tired of hearing them snipe at each other over everything. If I lived another thousand lifetimes, I didn’t think I’d ever really understand why they hated each other as much as they did. Well, I knew why Dace hated Ronan, but I didn’t understand why they couldn’t let their animosity go. They’d agreed to work together already. Why they hell couldn’t they knock off the alpha-male bullshit and cooperate for once? They didn’t have to be besties, but they could at least try to deal with the situation we were in instead of making it harder.

  Please let it go, I said to Dace.

  Fine.

  I sighed, relieved. “How did he die?” I asked when Ronan retreated to the far side of the room.

  “Same way Chiran died.” Regret and sorrow for the slain wolf whispered through Dace and Geri.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  His response stung. I couldn’t remember the last time he let me comfort him.

  I twisted my hands in my bedspread. “You’re sure it wasn’t a hunter?”

  Geri pushed an image into my mind of the dead wolf. Just like Chiran, the unknown wolf had been ripped apart. He lay lifeless on the hard ground, his dark gray fur matted with blood and other fluids. Deep gashes ran up and down his side in a familiar, sickening way.

  My own matching wounds throbbed in memory.

  Geri let the image fade.

  I swallowed around the painful lump in my throat and whispered, “I guess they really are back, aren’t they?”

  “I guess so.” Dace laughed harshly, then swore. “Let’s hope the pack finds them.”

  My eyes widened, shock rippling through me. “You’re sending the pack after them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they’re mine to command,” he said, almost dismissively.

  “Since when?”

  “Since Sköll and Hati appeared. Since Dani died. Take your pick.”

  “They’re already in danger because of us, Dace,” I said, speaking as calmly as I could. I wanted to shake him. He knew they wouldn’t find Sköll and Hati out there, but the hunters could find them. Since when did he risk their lives so recklessly? So carelessly?

  “And you almost died because of Sköll and Hati. I want them dead.”

  “At the expense of Kalei and Buka? Of Fuki?” I demanded, stunned.

  “If that’s what it takes.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “Don’t I?” He paused. “I didn’t ask for this war, Arionna. Sköll and Hati did. I’m doing what needs to be done to keep you safe. Don’t ask me for more than that.”

  “Then don’t ask me to watch our friends die so I can live.”

  “I’m not asking you,” he said. “I’m telling you: I’m not letting them get near you again, no matter what it takes.”

  “And I’m telling you, I won’t let you risk our friends for me,” I snapped back, infuriated he could even think that was an option. It wasn’t, not by a long shot.

  “That’s their choice. Not yours.”

  “You can’t do this, Dace. Dammit.”

  “I’ll do whatever I have to do, love. And so will Geri.”

  “Then I’ll do whatever I have to do to stop both of you,” I warned him.

  He didn’t say anything for a long moment and then, “Fine.”

  “Fine.”

  The line went dead.

  I stared down at the phone, ignoring the weight of Ronan’s gaze on my back. I felt sick to my stomach, defeated. Dace was losing it.

  “He’s getting worse,” I said.

  “I noticed.”

  “He needs a break.”

  “So do you.”

  Yeah, I did. But I didn’t see that happening any time soon.

  “Do you really think me leaving would help him deal with this?” I turned to look at Ronan.

  He hesitated, looking at me with a thoughtful frown on his face. “I think you need to go,” he said then, almost apologetically. “As long as you’re here….”

  “He’ll never get over this,” I finished when Ronan didn’t continue. He was right. I knew he was, but accepting that meant leaving Dace for god only knew how long. Weeks. Months, maybe. I didn’t want to think about that.

  “Dace is the strongest of us,” Ronan pointed out.

  “Meaning you need him more than you need me.”

  Ronan gave me an odd, assessing look.

  “You know it’s true,” I said. Denying the truth wouldn’t change anything. I couldn’t help them fight Sköll or Hati this time, and we all knew it even if no one wanted to admit it.

  “Maybe,” Ronan conceded with a slight nod, “but Dace needs you
.”

  No, Dace needed me out of his way. But…. “He’ll never let me go,” I said, feeling numb and cold in turns.

  “I don’t blame him.” For a minute, Ronan looked haunted, and I knew his thoughts were with Dani again, with how he hadn’t been there to protect her when she needed him. She died completely alone. I think that hurt Ronan more than he’d ever admit.

  He and Dace had a lot more in common than they liked to think.

  paced slowly around my room, focused on placing one foot in the front of the other. Little by little, my strength was returning, but my legs still wobbled beneath me, threatening to send me toppling to the ground if I moved too quickly. I refused to give up and crawl back into the bed though.

  In the two weeks since Sköll and Hati killed that poor wolf, Dace had become an overbearing dictator. Everything set him off, and watching me stumble and fall wasn’t helping him. I needed to regain my strength, sooner rather than later. Call me crazy, but I kind of doubted Sköll and Hati would call a time-out on Ragnarök until I felt better.

  Ugh. I was over the apocalypse. So beyond over it.

  Unfortunately, that didn’t change anything. The Weather Channel called for snow by the end of the day. It wasn’t supposed to snow in Arkansas in the spring. Arkansas wasn’t supposed to be the chosen field for the freaking apocalypse, either.

  “Maybe that’s why we’re here.”

  I glanced up to find Dace leaning against the door jamb, watching me. He looked exhausted, but calm.

  “Perhaps we sent the Michaelsons’ ancestors here to hide in our last life because the state is so unlikely. Arkansas,” he said the name in such a simple, matter-of-fact way, the entire state sounded perfectly ordinary and boring. “It’s the last place in the world anyone would expect to find a situation like this.”

  “Possibly.” Maybe we did pick a random, middle-of-nothing spot on a map and tell Mani’s human children to hide there, or to keep running. So much of our past lives were lost to us. That sucked. I felt like we were only getting torn pages when we needed an illustrative guide. An instruction manual would have been nice. Ragnarök for Dummies, perhaps.

  “You still mad at me?” Dace asked.

  “I’m not mad at you.” I shuffled over to the bed and sat carefully on the edge, eying him. “I’m worried about you.”