Page 36 of Loki's Enemy Mate

“Hey!” he shouted. “Bring that back here!”

Like any animal would, I ignored his request and sprinted out of the alley. Heimdall was at my side the moment I turned the corner, and he let out a little bark of excitement as he saw me. But when his eyes narrowed in on the bag, he began to drool uncontrollably. He made a move for it, but I shouldered him, blocking his attempt. When he looked at me confused, I just nodded back toward the mountain. He seemed to understand and together we headed back to the edge of town.

Once we were there, I let him take the lead. With his head held tall, he took me through the woods and up the mountain on the side furthest from the Skoll village. It was an easy twenty minutes of trotting uphill and weaving through the trees before I finally saw our destination. There, tucked deep into the woods at the edge of a small creek, was what looked to be a house. As we got closer, I realized it was less of a house and more of a shack. The roof was in bad shape and the walls themselves looked to be made of the thinnest wood imaginable. It was weathered and gray from the many winters it had seen, and I doubted it would survive another.

However, it was secret, dry, and there was freshwater mere footsteps away from its front door. As we neared, Heimdall shifted back into his human form and pulled the door open, the hinges squealing angrily against the rust that tried to hold them tight.

“Come on,” he said, nodding toward the interior. “Nobody knows this is here. Not anymore anyway.”

I placed the bag on the ground and forced myself to shift back. It was getting more difficult thanks to the amount of times I’d done it and my lack of food. But that was about to be remedied momentarily.

“What is this place?”

“It used to be a storage shed for the pack when my grandfather was Alpha. The patrols would keep supplies here in case someone was hurt or needed rescuing. But it hasn’t been used in decades. My father actually helped me turn it into a sort of playhouse when I was little…”

His voice trailed off as his gaze slipped to the ground.

“He… He used to be more…fatherlyI guess.”

It was hard for me to imagine Tyr being a great father, even for a moment or two. But from the look on Heimdall’s face, I knew he was telling the truth. There was a sense of loss there. Not just for his childhood when the days seemed rosy and unending, but for all those good memories he’d had with his father. It was all too obvious that those days were long gone, and he didn’t understand how or where they’d gone.

“Come on,” I said, grabbing the bag and his hand. “We can talk about things once we’re done eating.”

He nodded. “Right. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I want to know everything about you. The good.” I reached up a hand and tipped his chin up so his eyes met mine. “And the bad.”

A sad sort of smile filled his face. It made me realize how long it had been since this man had heard a kind word from anyone.

“I want to know everything about you too.”

“Well, then you better strap in because I’ve got a lot to say.” I gave him a soft kiss and pulled him into the shack behind me.

“Fucking christ that smells amazing,” he said, pushing the door closed. He crossed the tiny room to a bench in one corner that turned out to be some sort of chest. Lifting the lid, he pulled out an old, ratty woolen blanket. “Well, looks like the mothballs did their job and kept the rodents away.” He shook it out, the room filling with the weird chemical smell of the mothballs. “It stinks, but it’ll keep out the cold.”

“You know what mothballs are, but you’ve never had a french fry?”

He nodded, looking rather sheepish.

I rolled my eyes, wandering over to him with the bag in hand. “In that case, I’m about to blow your fucking mind.”

Both of us took a seat on the floor as Heimdall wrapped the blanket around our shoulders. I ripped open the bag and pulled out the clamshells, flipping each one open in turn.

“Well, what do you want?” I asked. “A burger, chicken strips, a turkey club, or a pastrami sandwich?”

He stared down at the food, only a single word leaving his lips.

“Yes.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yep. Me too.”

And without another word, we dug in, eating like the two starved wolves we were.

Chapter Twenty: Loki

Iwas about halfway through my fries when I could stand it no longer. Pushing my food aside, I practically pulled the chicken strip out of Heimdall’s mouth and replaced it with my lips. He seemed surprised and maybe even a little irritated at first. But as I pushed him down on the ground, climbing my naked body on top of his, he leaned into the moment.

His musky yuletide scent filled my nostrils and with the snow falling outside, it sort of felt like I was trying to fuck a Christmas tree dipped in cinnamon. But I didn’t care. I’d wanted him so bad since our first time in the cave, but I resisted, trying to conserve all the energy I had for getting free. But now that we were out and I had a handful of carbs in my body, I wasn’t going to waste another minute.

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