Page 26 of Vicar
“Because it’s not big enough, huh?” Jade sighed. “I told Thor we should’ve gone bigger, but he assured me this was the best size to slip in her pocket if need be.”
Trinity frowned. “Again,whendid you see Thor?”
“Here and there before we left the Alfheim cave.” Jade, in turn, frowned at Loki. “I’m right, aren’t I? Yet again, bigger is better.”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “It seems larger would have likely been better, but there was no way to know that until it was given to Trinity when she was under the influence of her inner Múspellsheimr.”
The last thing Vicar had expected in a possible mate was that she might be influenced by dragonkind’s homeworld too. It made for both daunting and intriguing possibilities.
“The Alfheim stone will only help Trinity for so long, then?” Vicar deduced. He glanced from Trinity to Loki. “Because it’s so small, it can only keep her inner Múspellsheimr at bay for a limited time?”
“That would be my guess.” Loki looked at him again in warning. “Which means, whether in your Sigdir or Múspellsheimr state, you’re truly the only thing standing between her and the enemy. The only one who can keep her from giving herself over to him the moment her Múspellsheimr surfaces enough and he latches on.”
“You can’t be serious.” Vicar narrowed his eyes at the god. “Did you not catch the pact my Múspellsheimr side made with her Múspellsheimr half? A pact that means I’ll willingly let her go to keep my standing in this tribe. To remain head alpha just beneath Leviathan.” He shook his head. “My dragon will have it no other way.”
“Or so you think.” Loki considered him in that cunning godly way of his. “When just minutes ago, it occurred to you that your dragons shared a stronger connection than your human halves. That your dragons are more in control of your connection than you realized.” He nodded once, surprisingly serious for Loki. “Use that, Vicar.” He looked from Trinity back to Vicar. “Until I can retrieve a larger stone, use that when her inner Múspellsheimr inevitably tries to surface. Use that to keep her safe.”
He was about to reply, to ask exactly how he was supposed to do that when her Múspellsheimr side was just as strong, but in typical Loki fashion, the god vanished before he could.
“Great.” Trinity frowned and sighed. “So now we’re trapped here praying the stone keeps me steady or else.”
“No or else,” Vicar vowed, meaning it. He urged her to sit in front of the fire and manifested not a horn of ale but a glass of chilled white wine. “Violence will take you over my dead body.”
Stunned, she looked from the glass to him. “How did you know I like wine?” She sniffed it and narrowed her eyes. “More so, how did you know exactly what kind?”
He had no idea. But he could speculate. “I can only assume because I knew you as well as Jade and Thorulf knew each other at one time.”
“Right.” Jade shot Thorulf a teasing look and sat next to Trinity. “Count your blessings you didn’t start your journey with warm, bitter ale.”
“Well, technically, I did.” Trinity reminded, shooting Thorulf a sympathetic look before she perked a brow at Jade. “Besides, you could have manifested yourself a cold beer just as easily as Vicar did chilled wine for me.” She took a small sip and offered him a small, much-welcomed smile. “Thank you. This is more appreciated than you know.”
Drawn by her smile, Vicar skipped manifesting himself ale and joined them by the fire. In a strange way he’d never admit to, either in Sigdir or Múspellsheimr form, he wanted more of that. More of the way her simple smile made him feel. It was unfamiliar. Or was it? Because he felt like he instinctually knew it every bit as much as what she preferred when she drank.
“Because you didn’t usually,” he murmured, staring at the flames, trying to grab hold of a memory just out of reach.
“Didn’t usually what?” Jade wondered, eyeing him curiously.
“As you mentioned earlier, Trinity was never a big drinker.” He met Trinity’s eyes. “It was too risky because it might have thrown off your balance which meant you wouldn’t have been able to help your sisters.” He kept following the memory. “Not just that, but it wasn’t something you craved regardless.”
“That’s right.” Trinity narrowed her eyes. “But how do you know that? When did I tell you?” The corners of her mouth pulled down. “It’s so frustrating not knowing.”
He shook his head, sure one second then clueless the next. “I wish I knew.” He rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the fire. “I feel like I know you better than anyone else, yet at the same time, you’re a complete stranger.” His throat thickened with unexpected emotion. Powerful emotion that his Múspellsheimr side would detest. “You were never supposed to be a stranger, though, Trinity.” He met her eyes. “Whatever happened, we weren’t supposed to forget each other...” He blinked against stark certainty. “But I had no choice.”
Though Trinity was quick to hide it, he felt the same emotion swell inside her before she pushed it back down and looked at him with what most would see as simple curiosity. “Why, Vicar?”
“I don’t know,” he whispered, drawn to the flames in the fire. The volatile nature of them. “It was the only way I could...”
“Could what?” Trinity prompted when he trailed off.
“Could save you,” he replied, echoing Loki’s words. He dragged his eyes from the telling flames back to Trinity and told her about the last thing she probably wanted to hear.
