Page 92 of The Fanged One

Fenris let out a defeated sigh. "You will check in regularly. You will not start a war, a cult, or a fashion trend without telling me first. I'll come to Oslo in a week to see for myself that the city is still standing." He paused and looked at Von. "And you better make sure that Von comes to no harm."

"Fenris, you wound me. I would never do anything to hurt my savior. We are going to have the best time!" Loki blew them a kiss, spun a bewildered Von around, and pushed him through the portal ahead of him before stepping after him. The doorway snapped shut on the last of the neon like a mouth closing.

"Sooo," Layla said slowly. "What just happened?"

Fenris looked at the place where the portal had been. "It would appear that my father has taken a liking to Von. It's best not to argue with him when he gets like this."

"What, he's imprinted on him like a baby duck?" Layla asked, already laughing.

"Exactly like a duck. Loki won't hurt him, I swear." Fenris turned, and his gaze came down to Linnea. "What now, my mate?"

This was the part Linnea hadn't let herself imagine, because imagining it felt like daring the Norns to take it away. No trial left. No serpent, no bridge, no hall of the hungry dead. Only the two of them, and the whole rest of a life, and a choice that was hers to make.

She smiled up at him. "Now, Mister Lokisson, I'm going to take you home and have my wicked way with you."

Tor and Ciara ended up driving them all back to Ulfheim before the sun had fully risen. He got out of the car and held Linnea for a long moment.

"I'm so proud of you. I don't tell you enough, but I am, little sister. None of us would have survived in Niflheim if it weren't for you, so never doubt your worth again, understand me?" Tor said, holding her face in both of his hands.

"Thanks, big brother," Linnea whispered and hugged him again. "I love you."

"Love you too. Now, go and get your mate settled in your house. We will have a party soon to celebrate it," he said, patting her on the back.

Linnea and Fenris waved goodbye to Ciara and Tor and headed up the snow-covered path to her cabin. Fenris looked about at the woods and the mountain behind them, his nose lifting to catch the scents.

Linnea stopped at the front door and retrieved the key from beneath a dead pot plant.

"This is stupid," she said, her hand resting on the handle.

"What is?"

"I'm… nervous." Linnea looked up at his beautiful eyes, full of love and magic. "This is my safe place. It's the only thing in the whole world that has ever been only mine. Now I'm about to walk a literal god into it, and I don't know why my hands are shaking."

Fenris didn't laugh at her. "I'm not a god to you, love. I'm your mate."

"I know. That's what is terrifying." Her wolf stirred in her, warm and certain, nudging at the door as if to say get on with it. "I want it to be ours, not just mine."

Fenris kissed her. "It will be. As long as you are here, it will always be home to me."

She lifted the latch, pushed the door open, and pulled her mate over the threshold. She whispered a word, and the fire bloomed in the hearth, throwing gold up the log walls.

Fenris straightened in a space built to fit exactly one small woman and her solitude. He was big, but instead of making the cabin feel smaller, it made it feel as if it had been waiting all along to have him standing in the middle of it.

Linnea's wolf pressed up under her skin, delighted that her mate was in her den. She wanted his scent on everything. The furs, the door, the very air. She wanted to come home for the rest of her life, to catch the smell of forged steel and silver dust under her own roof and know he was hers.

"Take your shirt off," Linnea said, dropping her pack and jacket to the floor.

Fenris's brow rose, a smile touching his lips. "Giving orders already, little singer?"

"My house. My rules." She stepped in against him and placed her hands on his chest. "We don't have anyone around, and nothing is trying to kill us. I'm going to be greedy while I can, and I'm going to have every single thing I told myself I couldn't have. Starting with the shirt, so get it off before I rip it off."

Fenris reached back one-handed and dragged the shirt off over his head. He was scarred and enormous in the firelight, and he was looking at her like she was the best thing that had happened to him.

Linnea traced the old silver scars down his chest with her fingers and her mouth, finishing what she had promised herself that first night in Hel's hall. Not one of them was a monster's mark to her. Every one was only him.

"You are killing me," Fenris growled.

"Good." Linnea went to work on his jeans. "Let your mate give you a welcome home present."