THIRTY-SIX
ANNABEL
The trek up the mountain to Valhalla nearly broke me.
Just staying conscious had been difficult since before we'd passed through the portal into Asgard, and after just a few yards, my legs buckled.
Bjarni caught me before I faceplanted on the path and pulled me into his arms mid-stride. It seemed effortless, but I wasn’t fooled—I felt his exhaustion in our bond.
“Put me down, Bjarni,” I murmured, even as my head lolled in against his shoulder. “You’re injured too. I’ll walk.”
“I’m not so injured I can’t carry my mate,” he rumbled. “Just a short while and we’re there.”
Despite my body’s refusal to stay upright, a surge of adrenaline made my heart beat faster. Soon I would get to see Saga and Magni again, and the first, horrible step to stop Ragnarök would be over.
