Page 73 of Valkyrie Confused

The blade draws blood but doesn’t decapitate him, because Arnlaug stops Scarlett’s arm. He easily disarms her, sending the sword rattling onto the ground, before body-slamming her into the wall. I let go of Odin and turn to stop Arnlaug, but Odin grabs me in a headlock.

The situation is dire, but two things are glaringly obvious. Odin isn't as omnipotent as he used to be, or he wouldn’t have let Scarlett cut him—or use his actual arms to keep me in place. And Arnlaug isn’t that set on killing us, or he could have ripped her in half, instead of pinning her to the wall.

I scratch at Odin’s arm and try to pry his fingers off me, but he won’t let go. “Watch,” he says. “See him end her.” Glee and maybe a little madness spark along my skin, but I can’t sense more than that, no matter how hard I focus. He’s blocking me.

I don’t even feel Scarlett. Like at all.

I see her struggle, though. See the tension coiling in every muscle of Arnlaug’s unmoving body.

I need to help them both.

Also, I don’t feel as personally threatened as Odin must have meant for me to be. Maybe because I don’t need to breathe, so he’s not really choking me.

I reach behind me, aiming for his remaining eye, but he snatches my arm with a speed and agility no man who looks this old should manage, and shakes it like a rattler.

I call for the earth to suck him in, but this power is muted too. So I head-butt him, praying one of my horns pokes his eye out. I hear the crunching of cartilage instead, as I make contact with his nose. He lets go, but puts up a shield when I twirl around to punch him, and my hand is almost crushed.

A whimper reaches my ears, and panic threatens to drown out reason. Not my panic. Scarlett’s. Now that Odin isn’t touching me, her emotions are flooding in.

I throw myself at Arnlaug. Climb on his back and use my weight to pull him off her. “Let go. She needs air.”

He may as well be made of marble.

TWENTY-THREE

SCARLETT

We’ve practiced this before,but with me on the ground and Arnlaug on top of me.

This should be easier, without his weight pinning me down, but when I go for his nuts, he blocks me with his thigh.

He's crushing my throat but allowing me to draw breath.

“Kill her,” Odin hisses.

Arnlaug’s eyes roll back in his head. When he looks at me again, he squeezes harder.

He’s going to kill me.

The man who last night was telling me how perfect I am and how he can get lost in me is squeezing the life out of me.

And I can’t do anything.

My kicks have as little effect as my nails on his arms do.

I’m going to die in a cave in the middle of nowhere, looking into the dead eyes of one of my lovers and hearing the heartfelt pleas of the other one.

“Arnlaug, please come back to me.” How can Arnlaug ignore the agony in Pan’s voice? “If you do this, there’s no going back.”

“That’s it. Rip her head off,” Odin cries.

Oh right. This jerkwad, too.

Pan is no longer trying to rip Arnlaug off me. Did Odin get him?

God, please no.

“You don't want to kill me,” I whisper to Arnlaug.

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