“What’s happening?” Annabel grumbled from behind me. She placed a hand on my hip to push herself into a seated position.
“Nothing,” I said, irritation sharpening my tone as I shoved my knives back into their sheaths. Freya was sitting cross-legged by our side with Mimir in her lap. She was idly combing her fingers through his coarse hair—a treatment he seemed more than pleased with, judging from his half-closed eyes. “Just a goddess getting her voyeuristic kicks.”
Freya laughed again and reached out to pinch my cheek with her free hand. “Such a saucy boy.”
“You seem… better,” Annabel said, her tone careful.
“Better?” Freya hummed. “I suppose.”
“I have managed to convince the goddess that there might be hope after all,” Mimir said.
“I am told you are soulmates,” she said, her smile br
