A dual pov narrative from both main characters-Loki and Annalise. If you enjoy slow burn, immersive stories, with a good plot and the long awaited spice, then stop your search. Here is the story for you!
As the newly crowned king of Jotunheim, Loki...
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A sinister laugh echoing in my ears jolts me awake with a scream, my eyes squeezing shut from the harsh sunlight that streams through the balcony windows of my chambers.
Before the panic can fully set in, I hear a familiar, soothing voice beside me. "Ssh, it's okay, sweetheart. Keep your eyes closed for a little bit. They just need to adjust to the light."
Am I truly hearing my beloved maids voice?
The gentle caress of Milda's frail hand on my cheek instantly calms me, putting aside my doubt, and I lean into her touch, my panic subsiding.
"Oh Milda, I had a terrible nightmare," I breathe.
"Dear child, what did I always say to you when you used to wake screaming?"
I pause, thinking back to my childhood. "You have to have a few nightmares before you reach your dreams."
"And you will reach your dreams, Annalise. Even if you cannot wake up from your nightmare."
Although her voice is warm and reassuring, Milda's words unnerve me, a frown forming on my brow. "Why would I not wake up?" I ask, a chill running down my spine as her warm hand suddenly turns icy cold.
"If you can't wake up from the nightmare, maybe you're not asleep. Reality can be just as garish." Milda's voice trails off, and her hand slowly slides away.
An immediate sense of dread rolls over me and my heart begins to pound. But I force myself to open my eyes, surprised when I do not see Milda in front of me. I gaze around my empty quarters, finding no sign of my much loved maid.
Something doesn't feel right, and I find myself shaking uncontrollably "Milda?" I call out, panic rising. "Father? Ivor? ... Leon!"
But there is no response, only the deafening silence that accentuates the growing unease within me. I rack my brain, trying to recall the events of the previous days, of the previous months, but the memories elude me.
I move my legs over the side of the bed, but a sudden, searing pain strikes every part of my body, causing me to still myself, fearful of experiencing more agony. I gasp when I look down and see my uncovered legs littered in a disturbing array of purple bruises.
"What is this..." I exclaim, tracing my fingertips across the outline of the discoloured marks. "How did I get these?"
I stand up, driven by a desperate need for answers, but the small effort proves too much and I fall to my hands and knees, my body wracked with weakness. I hear the twist of the door knob, and a small voice echoes out from behind me. Hands come to a rest on my shoulder and I flinch.
"It's okay, my queen, it's just me, Yasia, your maid."
A face suddenly kneels before me, and for a moment I cannot recall her features. But soon her appearance becomes familiar, and I recognise the kind, comforting visage of my loyal servant.
