Page 2 of Loki's Enemy Mate

“We?”

“Thor and I.”

I grunted in disgust.

“It’s true,” Baldr continued. “We both miss you. The pack misses you. And there is new family at home that would like to get to know you.”

“I don’t want to get to knowthosehumans.” I glared at Baldr, a threatening finger pointed his way. “How can you stand to live under the same roof as werewolf hunters? To let them walk among us as trusted equals?!”

“Flynn is no hunter. He was never trained or even made aware until recently. He’s well past the age of initiation. There’s no threat from him.”

“What about his grandmother?!” I spat. “Sheisa hunter.”

Baldr lifted an eyebrow. “She’s nearly eighty-five years old, Loki. Are you telling me you’re afraid of an old woman?”

“I don’t care what you say! She’s a hunter and thatboyhas werewolf hunter blood in his veins!”

“Thatboyis the reason Tyr didn’t kill our brother.”

I scoffed again, crossing my arms over my chest. “Thor took Tyr’s hand off. That’s what saved them.”

“Thor bit Tyr’s hand, that’s true,” Baldr nodded. “But it was Flynn’s silver sword that severed it. And the only reason that Tyr hasn’t attacked again. With a wound like that, he’ll be maimed for some time. The healing powers of our race are negated by silver.”

“I know how it fucking works, Baldr. I’m not an idiot.”

“Could have fooled me.”

I ground my molars, the muscles in my jaw quivering under the tension. “If anything, the fact that Flynn knew to use that sword makes him even more dangerous. And I refuse to share a roof with a werewolf hunter and mytraitorof a brother.”

Baldr stepped closer, putting his hand on my shoulder. “Then I’m afraid I have news for you.”

“News?” I pulled away from him. “What news? Has our brother outcast me for good now in favor of his newbitch?!”

“No,” Baldr said simply. “I came here tonight to try to talk you into coming home because I’ve had a vision. One that will come to pass if I can’t get you back to the hot springs before tomorrow night.”

“I don’t care about yourvisions. Father never should’ve bedded a witch in the first place. Their union is an abomination to our race.”

I saw the hurt in his eyes, and for a moment, I regretted my words. It only occurred to me after I said it that I’d just called my brother an abomination. And even though I fought with Thor my entire life, Baldr had always been my confidant and friend. He was my little brother, the one that I always protected from the other wolves when we were growing up. He’d always been smaller and weaker than the others with his half blood, but that had never bothered me before.

But now, before I could take back the words I didn’t mean, his eyes flashed brightly as he took a step back. The wind picked up, swirling dead leaves around him as if he stood in the center of a whirlwind. The woods darkened and I watched as crackles of magic filled the air, the electric taste of it burning my tongue.

“This path of hate you’re on will only lead to darkness, Loki. The mountain will open up and swallow you whole if you don’t turn away from anger. There are secrets on both sides that precious few understand. Ones that you ought not meddle in. And should you still pursue your aspirations despite all of this, something precious to you will die. Beyond that, my vision ends.”

I reached out, calling out for him to come back. But before my words could penetrate the wind and magic filling the trees, there was a loud crack, and everything suddenly went quiet. I looked up, thousands of dry leaves floating lazily back to the forest floor. Where Baldr had stood a moment before was now empty. The only thing left was a small bare patch of earth with a strange golden symbol carved into it. No sooner had I laid eyes on it than it faded and was covered once more with leaves.

My brother, it seemed, was far more powerful than I could have ever imagined.

Chapter Two: Heimdall

“Why haven’t you taken a mate yet?” my father barked the moment I stepped into his home.

I just sighed, carrying the bowl of stew over and sitting it down in front of him at the table. He’d been sitting in the hard wooden chair for over two weeks now, the bloody stump of his right hand wrapped in bandages that looked like they needed changing again. In his left hand was a lit cigarette, probably his twentieth one of the day, if not more. Granted, werewolf healing usually stopped us from getting things like lung cancer. But my father was doing his damnedest to get it anyway.

“There are no women in the pack that aren’t already mated,” I replied, just like I had every day for the past year.

“There’s a few coming of age soon. Take one of them.”

Sixteen was hardlyof age, even in werewolf packs. Most wolves weren’t even considered adults until their early twenties. Besides, taking a child bride wasn’t an option, no matter how much he pushed. On that subject, I would not budge.

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