Page 67 of Tyr

“Please,” Anton pleaded. “Take whatever you want. You want the girl? Take the girl. I give her to you. You can have her.”

Tyr smashed his head into Anton’s, breaking his nose and spraying blood everywhere, before smashing his fist into Anton’s jaw.

“You give her to me? You? A mere Midgardian? A man who is not more than a flea on the ass of this world, think you could give me a goddess like her?”

Tyr pulled Anton’s face so close Celeste was afraid he might bite Anton’s throat out the way he had the bodyguard.

“You cannot give what is not yours. And Celeste was never yours. She is mine. Not because you gave her to me. Not because I took her. Not because I forced her. But because she was born to be mine. And you put your hands on her. Your dirty, disgusting, human hands.” Tyr dropped Anton back onto the desk and slammed his fist into Anton’s second hand before he swung his fist across Anton’s cheekbone, jaw, and finally his temple.

A red aura swam around Tyr, and she swore with every swing of his fist, his aura grew brighter and his frame larger.

Celeste took a step forward. “Tyr!”

Something inside told her that if she didn’t stop Tyr, the people in that room wouldn’t be the only ones who would pay.

Tyr swung again, and Anton’s head cracked.

“Tyr!” She pushed a mental blast at him, and he shook his head before looking up at her. He squinted, and for a moment, she thought he might attack her as well, but he blinked twice, and then his eyes widened in recognition.

He looked at Anton and then at her again. He took a deep breath and stepped away. Anton lay on the desk, not moving.

“Do you really want me to stop? Or perhaps you want to exact your own revenge. Come,Fylgja. Let me help guide you.”

She wanted to say yes. Wanted to tell Tyr they’d torture Anton for the next twenty-four hours, make love in his blood, and it would still not be enough for what he had done to her. What he had tried to take from her.

But the vibes Tyr gave off told her she needed to calm him or risk the whole western hemisphere breaking into civil war. America struggled enough without that happening.

She walked toward him in slow, confident strides. He smiled, and she reached up and cupped his cheek. She needed to say something to get through to him.

“If you continue, he won’t be able to answer our questions.”

Anton moaned, and his eyes fluttered open and closed.

Tyr grabbed her hand where it touched his skin. He pulled it to his nose and breathed her in.

She laid her other hand on his chest.“You’ve done enough. You’ve avenged me. He can’t hurt me anymore. Can’t hurt anyone anymore.”

He closed his eyes for a long moment, and when he opened them again, something shifted, and he came to himself.

He slapped Anton’s cheek twice. “See that? See the woman you tried to break, tried to destroy. She just saved your life, you useless tick.” Tyr raised his fist again, but Celeste encased it with her smaller one.

“I need to know where my father is.”

Tyr nodded and pulled Anton off the desk with his free hand. “Where is Sylax?”

Anton groaned, and his eyes rolled, unfocused.

Tyr leaned his hand onto Anton’s broken arm, and Anton cried out, his eyes flying open.

“Where is he?”

Anton sucked in a shallow breath and muttered something so softly Celeste couldn’t hear.

“You’re lying,” Tyr said.

Anton’s head lolled from side to side, and he mumbled again.

Tyr licked his lips.

---