Page 76 of Rune

If I was not immortal, it meant a god was protecting me here, as shown when they allowed me to drink jravn without perishing. And quite likely, whatever deity was protecting me was also the one whoorchestrated the events to bring me here. They had a purpose for me, and I needed to know what.

Or I needed to get out before their plan could come to pass.

But would I ever be safe on Earth? Or would the gods find a way to drag me back to them again, keeping me on a leash I could never be free of?

I wanted to stay to solve the puzzle. But I wanted to live more. And doing so required something I was quite hoping to avoid.

Ve needed the truth.

It had been put off long enough, but I wanted someone in Asgard who knew I was not a goddess and who could find answers where I could not. More than that, he needed to know why I desperately needed to return to Danmark, and how much danger I was in by staying here. As much as I wanted to fix this on my own, I needed help.

There was another reason I sought to tell Ve the truth. My heart was too close to him. I needed to see the look on his face when he realized I was not his fiancée, and that I’d lied to him about being a goddess, and see how his expression melted into betrayal, then anger, then regret. Only then would my stubborn feelings fade.

A grumble in my belly reminded me how long it’d been since I’d eaten. A small throb took root in the back of my skull, growing more demanding by the moment. It was like every part of my body was banding together to all scream out the same thing—things were not going well.

“They really aren’t,” I grumbled.

Then, from the east, a low rumble crept forth.

I paused. “Please let that have been from my stomach,” I whispered.

A growl replied. One that was most certainly not from me. It was followed by the snap of a branch, and the low rustle of leaves shifting. The hairs on my arms stood on end. Not my stomach. Beast.

I knew the sound of a predator when I heard it. It was the low sound of paws dragging across the ground, and of crawling through branches. Slow, calculated, and often deadly. I was being hunted.

My calloused hands tightened over the worn handle of my axe, twisting until the blade glistened with sunlight. My surroundings were built of brown and green that swayed gently with a breeze, but I searched for anything else. The noise had stopped, but the pit in my stomach didn’t go away.

My feet moved toward the sound. It would not get the chance to sneak up on me. I would force it to come out.

With my next step, a creature lurched from nearby brush, almost materializing from the air. It was a wolf, with narrowed eyes and sharp teeth bared at me, followed by a body three times the size of a normal creature. He would easily dwarf the one our chieftain had slain.

I swung the axe low, aiming for the heart. Enormous paws snapped at the blade, shoving it away effortlessly with a force that nearly ripped the weapon from my hands. I had no choice but to throw my body against the ground, slamming my chin on the rocks, as the wolf jumped to snap his deadly jaws at my neck.

He landed. His body hunched; yellow eyes gleaming hungrily.

“Go away,” I shouted, kicking back as I shuffled to my feet. I hauled my heavy axe in an upward strike. The wolf retreated a few paces, but as soon as the weapon passed, he lunged.

I’d been prepared, and yanked the axe back. It dug itself into his shoulder, but as I tried to twist away, his claws found my side and embedded themselves there.

An ear-shattering cry ripped from my throat. The pain was immediate, swelling from my side and wrapping to my stomach as he tore his claws from my skin, ripping it open. Sticky blood ran down my hip.

With difficulty, I brought my axe around again, clipping his hind legs. He snarled in a low, haunting sound. Then he pounced again. His eyes flashed in a way that said he grew impatient. The hunt was over. It was time to sink his teeth into his prize. My heart pounded. I rolled on the ground, tucking my knees in and my axe against my body, then shifting to my knees to fling my blade around. It took all my effort, both to move the axe and to see as darkness clouded my vision. The pain was unbearable. The fear just as great.

The gods didn’t need to take me down. A wolf would do it by himself.

I wondered if this beast was sent from Odin—my punishment for attempting to interfere with the games. If it was, I’d never get to know. The wolf prowled closer, licking his hungry snout, as I fought against passing out. My clammy fingers held the axe close, waiting for him to come near so I could make a final effort to strike him down. But my strength grew thin. Blood was leaving me, quicker than it ought to. I wavered in my stance.

The wolf looked at me like he knew he only needed to wait, and he could have me without a fight. I swung the axe anyway. It made no contact.

This would be the end. It was only a matter of whether I’d fall unconscious first, or if I’d be awake to feel his teeth rip me apart. Before all went dark, a horn sounded to the right. The wolf snapped its head to the sound, then lowered into a prowl.

It was Ve. He appeared, throwing himself from the side to barrel into the beast. They furled into a tangle of limbs and clashing teeth, while I clawed my way closer to help, willing myself to stay awake.

Ve tore at the creature’s limbs, dodging as it went in for a bite. Ve had landed on his back. His legs came up to kick the wolf away, who rolled briefly before coming up faster than I thought possible. Thankfully Ve was on his feet in time, and had a narrow-tipped sparring sword drawn.

I found the strength to sit upon my knees and hold my axe before my body.

The wolf lunged, paying little mind to the glare of steel before it. Though Ve swung, and connected, the beast still sank its jaws into Ve’s shoulder. He let out a cry.

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